post by Corrine.
Eric looked at me quizzically, wondering if I was serious.
The race would require at least 10 long days of riding on a fully loaded bike over 1,000 hilly miles – more than 70,000 feet of climbing. But I had been feeling more tired than I felt I should be. Was it physical or mental? I’d been in a funk for the last few months and had spent way too much time watching other people having adventures on YouTube instead of being out on my own.
I am retiring in less than five months. And while I’m looking forward to giving up the 12-hour days and the stress of taking care of my patients, much of my identity for the last 35-plus years has been being a doctor. A strong part of my identity has also been as an endurance athlete, and those days are numbered. Could that be weighing on me, too? Who am I if I’m not a doctor and an endurance athlete?
I had just asked him, “What do you think about me not doing the race and us just going on a vacation?”
It was just a few weeks before our planned trip to Arkansas, where I was entered in the Arkansas High Country Bikepack Race. I had been talking about the race for a couple of years and had been getting in a good amount of riding. But I wasn’t sure my head was in the race. I had done only two overnight trips in preparation. And my excitement about the race had waned.
The race would require at least 10 long days of riding on a fully loaded bike over 1,000 hilly miles – more than 70,000 feet of climbing. But I had been feeling more tired than I felt I should be. Was it physical or mental? I’d been in a funk for the last few months and had spent way too much time watching other people having adventures on YouTube instead of being out on my own.
I spent a lot of time wondering why I was feeling so down. Was it work burnout? Was it a summer of less-than-ideal weather? Do I not want to suffer as much as I get older? Maybe I just needed a couple of weeks of doing nothing. Or is it something deeper? Am I losing my identity?
I am retiring in less than five months. And while I’m looking forward to giving up the 12-hour days and the stress of taking care of my patients, much of my identity for the last 35-plus years has been being a doctor. A strong part of my identity has also been as an endurance athlete, and those days are numbered. Could that be weighing on me, too? Who am I if I’m not a doctor and an endurance athlete?
Of course, I’m more than that. Among other things, I’m also a mom, a wife, a quilter, and an insatiable reader. But the subconscious mind is not always rational. Maybe my upcoming life changes are more unsettling than my rational conscious mind is willing to accept.
Part of me still wants to do endurance bike racing. I love riding my bike and seeing new places. And I love seeing what I’m capable of doing. I find that pushing my limits helps build resilience in my life, not just in sport. I also love the people who do these races – they are my tribe. We get each other. We don’t have to explain why we do what we do. We share a passion for being physically active for ridiculous amounts of time in the outdoors. I have made some amazing friendships doing bikepack races. I will miss that when I quit.
Despite my mental state, I was still signed up for the Arkansas High Country. I had time off work, and we had all the necessary reservations. I decided I would take things one day at a time. Eric was coming on the trip, so he could rescue me if I dropped out.
A few weeks before the race, I asked Eric what he thought the chances of good weather for the entire race were. We both figured the chances were close to zero. I had already decided that I wasn’t starting the race if the forecast was for several days of rain. It would be a good excuse to not do the race. But as the race got closer, the weather forecasts for the first week of the race were looking really good: No rain, highs in the mid 80s F, lows around 50, and low humidity for Arkansas. The temperature the first couple of days might reach 90F, but otherwise the forecast couldn’t have been more perfect. I should have been ecstatic, but instead I felt resigned to just start the race and see how it went. Where was my enthusiasm?
This year the race started in Russellville. The pre-race meeting was fun. I got to meet several bikepackers including Meaghan Hackinen. I had been following her for several years since she won the BC Epic 1000 bikepack race in 2021, setting a new women’s FKT (fastest known time). She also won the Tour Divide this year and almost beat Lael Wilcox’s record. Besides being an amazing racer, she is a phenomenal writer. I highly recommend her books. Check out her latest, Shifting Gears: Coast to Coast on the Trans Am Bike Race, about her first bikepack race across America.
I also met the oldest male doing the race, Chuck Lee, who is 74. We laughed about being the slow, old ones out there and having the same initials, which might confuse people watching the race on Trackleaders! But we were doing the race in opposite directions (you can do it either clockwise or counterclockwise) so we wouldn’t get to ride together. He has done many long distance bike races and we realized we are both doing the Bike NonStop US bike race next summer. (I haven’t totally given up on endurance bikepack racing yet!)
The race has several iterations. This year you could choose between three different distances around different loops and choose to go either direction. The race started at 7 AM Saturday morning with over 60 of us lining up for the start, with just 18 doing the full 1,000-mile race. It was a perfect day, and I was able to ride with Meaghan for a couple of miles during the neutral start before she and everybody else surged ahead. Soon, I was left alone at the back of the pack. I was still not gung-ho about the race, but I was feeling better. I love being out riding my bike in new beautiful places.
The first 30 miles were mostly flat. The route followed a paved road along Lake Dardanelle before hitting some rolling gravel roads. We had plenty of shade and minimal traffic. I felt good but was still having misgivings. I remember thinking (and possibly wishing) that maybe I would get a mechanical and would be forced to quit. But then I decided I didn’t want that.
Be Careful. . .
Next was a long climb up to Mount Magazine, the highest point in the race and in Arkansas. The climb wasn’t difficult. It was on pavement with a consistent 6 percent grade and plenty of shade. I was making good time and knew I would be on top around lunchtime. The race has several places where you must get a selfie and post it to Instagram. Mount Magazine was the first selfie spot, so I decided that would be my first rest stop of the day.
But about three miles from the top, my chain started making noise. It sounded like it was rubbing on something. But I hadn’t changed gears. I hadn’t stood up and cranked harder. I hadn’t done anything different. I had just been pedaling at an even cadence when it started making noise. I stopped briefly but couldn’t find anything wrong, so I kept going. The noise continued. I tried changing gears but that didn’t fix the problem. Was my chain rubbing on the front derailleur? I stopped again but couldn’t find the problem. My shifters were working smoothly. Could it be my bottom bracket? I’m such an idiot when it comes to bike mechanicals. I took a class several years ago but have pretty much forgotten everything I learned. I tend to trust my bike mechanic to keep my bike running smoothly. I had no cell service so couldn’t call for help. I just kept riding.
A little later I got to the Mount Magazine State Park Visitor Center, which had WIFI. I texted Eric telling him that I had a mechanical and might need help. I flipped my bike upside down but still couldn’t figure out what the problem was. I chastised myself again for not being more mechanically inclined. I thought of messing with the front derailleur screws, but I was too worried about making things worse. I texted Eric again that I was going to need him to come get me. I told him to meet me at the lodge (1.5 miles off course) where I could get lunch while waiting for him. I was frustrated that I had a mechanical after only 50 miles, but surprisingly I wasn’t feeling too disappointed. Still, I would be totally embarrassed if it was something that I should have been able to fix, so I kind of hoped it would be something major.
I had a nice lunch and enjoyed the view and mulled over my options while I waited for Eric. Maybe I could get the bike fixed and have Eric take me back to Mount Magazine to continue, but I wasn’t excited about that idea, and I wouldn’t finish in time to be an official finisher. I could get my bike fixed and do the shorter 450-mile Central Loop as an Individual Time Trial. That sounded more appealing. I texted with the race director, and he said I could do either one.
Eric is more mechanically inclined than I am, but he’s not an expert bike mechanic. Rather than have him look at my bike, we decided to head back to Jackalope Cycling in Russellville and have them look at it. We needed to leave right away to get back before the shop closed. As it was, we made it back to Jackalope Cycling with only 20 minutes to spare.
I decided to bike the two miles back to our hotel while Eric drove the minivan. It’s a good think I did. Less than half a mile from the shop, the wheel pulley seized up again. That made the decision for me. My race was over after barely starting. Surprisingly, I was only mildly disappointed. Maybe that says something about where I’m at with long distance races?
While in Bentonville, we reassessed our vacation and ultimately decided to head to New Mexico to visit our son Riley and his wife Sam in Albuquerque, exploring a bit of Oklahoma on the way. But I’ll write more about that later. As I write this, we’re still on that adventure. If all had gone as originally planned, I’d still be slogging it out in the Arkansas High Country, feeling exhausted. I am not at all sorry at how things turned out.
Next summer I still plan to do the Bike NonStop US bike race, a 3,500-mile bikepacking race across the continental United States. And I’m still excited about doing it, so I guess I haven’t completely burned out on endurance cycling races.
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| Selfie with Chuck, the race director of the Arkansas High Country Race- another crazy biker |
Despite my mental state, I was still signed up for the Arkansas High Country. I had time off work, and we had all the necessary reservations. I decided I would take things one day at a time. Eric was coming on the trip, so he could rescue me if I dropped out.
Perfect Conditions?
A few weeks before the race, I asked Eric what he thought the chances of good weather for the entire race were. We both figured the chances were close to zero. I had already decided that I wasn’t starting the race if the forecast was for several days of rain. It would be a good excuse to not do the race. But as the race got closer, the weather forecasts for the first week of the race were looking really good: No rain, highs in the mid 80s F, lows around 50, and low humidity for Arkansas. The temperature the first couple of days might reach 90F, but otherwise the forecast couldn’t have been more perfect. I should have been ecstatic, but instead I felt resigned to just start the race and see how it went. Where was my enthusiasm?
This year the race started in Russellville. The pre-race meeting was fun. I got to meet several bikepackers including Meaghan Hackinen. I had been following her for several years since she won the BC Epic 1000 bikepack race in 2021, setting a new women’s FKT (fastest known time). She also won the Tour Divide this year and almost beat Lael Wilcox’s record. Besides being an amazing racer, she is a phenomenal writer. I highly recommend her books. Check out her latest, Shifting Gears: Coast to Coast on the Trans Am Bike Race, about her first bikepack race across America.
 |
| Meaghan is on the right and Kayla, another bikepacker I met, is in the middle |
I also met the oldest male doing the race, Chuck Lee, who is 74. We laughed about being the slow, old ones out there and having the same initials, which might confuse people watching the race on Trackleaders! But we were doing the race in opposite directions (you can do it either clockwise or counterclockwise) so we wouldn’t get to ride together. He has done many long distance bike races and we realized we are both doing the Bike NonStop US bike race next summer. (I haven’t totally given up on endurance bikepack racing yet!)
 |
| Chuck and me at the pre-race meeting |
The race has several iterations. This year you could choose between three different distances around different loops and choose to go either direction. The race started at 7 AM Saturday morning with over 60 of us lining up for the start, with just 18 doing the full 1,000-mile race. It was a perfect day, and I was able to ride with Meaghan for a couple of miles during the neutral start before she and everybody else surged ahead. Soon, I was left alone at the back of the pack. I was still not gung-ho about the race, but I was feeling better. I love being out riding my bike in new beautiful places.
 |
| Meaghan and I ride together for a few minutes. She went on to be the overall winner of the race setting a new women's FKT (fastest known time) also! |
The first 30 miles were mostly flat. The route followed a paved road along Lake Dardanelle before hitting some rolling gravel roads. We had plenty of shade and minimal traffic. I felt good but was still having misgivings. I remember thinking (and possibly wishing) that maybe I would get a mechanical and would be forced to quit. But then I decided I didn’t want that.
 |
| Lake Dardanelle |
Be Careful. . .
 |
Next was a long climb up to Mount Magazine, the highest point in the race and in Arkansas. The climb wasn’t difficult. It was on pavement with a consistent 6 percent grade and plenty of shade. I was making good time and knew I would be on top around lunchtime. The race has several places where you must get a selfie and post it to Instagram. Mount Magazine was the first selfie spot, so I decided that would be my first rest stop of the day.
 |
| Selfie at Mount Magazine |
But about three miles from the top, my chain started making noise. It sounded like it was rubbing on something. But I hadn’t changed gears. I hadn’t stood up and cranked harder. I hadn’t done anything different. I had just been pedaling at an even cadence when it started making noise. I stopped briefly but couldn’t find anything wrong, so I kept going. The noise continued. I tried changing gears but that didn’t fix the problem. Was my chain rubbing on the front derailleur? I stopped again but couldn’t find the problem. My shifters were working smoothly. Could it be my bottom bracket? I’m such an idiot when it comes to bike mechanicals. I took a class several years ago but have pretty much forgotten everything I learned. I tend to trust my bike mechanic to keep my bike running smoothly. I had no cell service so couldn’t call for help. I just kept riding.
A little later I got to the Mount Magazine State Park Visitor Center, which had WIFI. I texted Eric telling him that I had a mechanical and might need help. I flipped my bike upside down but still couldn’t figure out what the problem was. I chastised myself again for not being more mechanically inclined. I thought of messing with the front derailleur screws, but I was too worried about making things worse. I texted Eric again that I was going to need him to come get me. I told him to meet me at the lodge (1.5 miles off course) where I could get lunch while waiting for him. I was frustrated that I had a mechanical after only 50 miles, but surprisingly I wasn’t feeling too disappointed. Still, I would be totally embarrassed if it was something that I should have been able to fix, so I kind of hoped it would be something major.
 |
| View from the Mount Magazine lodge |
I had a nice lunch and enjoyed the view and mulled over my options while I waited for Eric. Maybe I could get the bike fixed and have Eric take me back to Mount Magazine to continue, but I wasn’t excited about that idea, and I wouldn’t finish in time to be an official finisher. I could get my bike fixed and do the shorter 450-mile Central Loop as an Individual Time Trial. That sounded more appealing. I texted with the race director, and he said I could do either one.
Eric finally replied. He had just finished his own fun mountain biking adventure at Mount Nebo State Park. So, he drove over to Mount Magazine. Right away he asked me how I was feeling. I had a slight emotional hitch, but then I was fine. No tears. My head was really not into this race.
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| Eric to the rescue. Here here is on top of Mount Nebo before getting my text |
Eric is more mechanically inclined than I am, but he’s not an expert bike mechanic. Rather than have him look at my bike, we decided to head back to Jackalope Cycling in Russellville and have them look at it. We needed to leave right away to get back before the shop closed. As it was, we made it back to Jackalope Cycling with only 20 minutes to spare.
The mechanic there took a few minutes to diagnose the problem: a seized-up wheel pulley on the back derailleur. It was old and the bearings were shot. The other pulley was really worn, too. It was not something I could have fixed in the field (whew). Unfortunately, they didn’t have replacements, but he loosened it, and it seemed to work fine.
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| Worn out wheel pulley |
Back On the Road – Sort Of
I decided to bike the two miles back to our hotel while Eric drove the minivan. It’s a good think I did. Less than half a mile from the shop, the wheel pulley seized up again. That made the decision for me. My race was over after barely starting. Surprisingly, I was only mildly disappointed. Maybe that says something about where I’m at with long distance races?
Eric had a several-day Airbnb reservation in Bentonville, a hotspot for mountain biking, so we headed there the next day (with a stop to do a short hike out to Hawksbill Crag). The town has several bike shops, and I was able to get my bike fixed. We spent three wonderful days there, exploring the trails. I even got to ride the course of the 100-mile Big Sugar Classic gravel bike race, which will be held October 19.
While in Bentonville, we reassessed our vacation and ultimately decided to head to New Mexico to visit our son Riley and his wife Sam in Albuquerque, exploring a bit of Oklahoma on the way. But I’ll write more about that later. As I write this, we’re still on that adventure. If all had gone as originally planned, I’d still be slogging it out in the Arkansas High Country, feeling exhausted. I am not at all sorry at how things turned out.
 |
| Biking to the Balloon Fiesta to watch the dawn balloon ascension with Riley and Sam |
Next summer I still plan to do the Bike NonStop US bike race, a 3,500-mile bikepacking race across the continental United States. And I’m still excited about doing it, so I guess I haven’t completely burned out on endurance cycling races.
After that, who knows? But by then I’ll be retired and maybe I’ll be more comfortable about what my new identity will be. In any case, Eric and I will still be having adventures and writing more blog posts.
