In 2002 I participated in a mountain bike ride with friends at Kettle Moraine South State Park in Southern Wisconsin. I woke up around 6am, ate one PowerBar Harvest Bar and drove an hour and a half to the park.
Joining the rest of the group in the parking lot, I laced up my shoes, strapped on my water-filled CamelBak, and eagerly awaited the ride. The whole group was more experienced than I. But I was younger and had more to prove. As we pedaled off into the woods I was full of energy.
Eighteen singletrack miles later, after countless climbs, numerous bone-rattling descents, and a handful of spirited sprints, I started to feel funny. I could no longer kick it into high gear whenever the need arose. I was out of water and felt hungry.
As the group took a brief break at the Emma Carlin trailhead, I asked if anyone had any extra food I could have. I never ask for food. I’ve never really been in a position where I needed to ask for food (besides at Denny’s or White Castle). But this was different. I could tell we were still deep into the Kettle trails, miles from the parking lot, and my energy was fading. Much to my disappointment, no one offered up any morsel of grub.
I was a little annoyed, but I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want these guys to think I wasn’t strong enough to finish the ride. After all, this more experienced group was impressed with me so far and I was hoping to be picked to compete with them in an upcoming 24-hour race. With no offers of food, I shrugged and hopped back on the saddle to finish the ride.
Less than a mile later, I met the big wall. I bonked in a way that I have never experienced before or since.
I fell to the back of the group. They quickly pedaled out of sight. My head lowered, and my posture went limp. I could no longer think clearly. My control of the bike was almost gone as I wobbled along the path struggling to avoid the most obvious rocks and trees.
It had been five hours since I ate that Harvest Bar and 16 hours since I had dinner the night before. My body was closing for the day. I coasted down hills and walked up others. When I finally reached one of the four road crossings on the trail, I sat down and thought about taking a nap. All I wanted to do was fall asleep. It seemed like such a good idea. It was warm and the grass felt comfortable enough…
“What the hell are you doing?!,” Mike asked. He volunteered to go back and find me when the group realized I was missing. They all thought I had crashed. Mike expected me to be hobbling back with a broken arm or something. He didn’t expect to find me with my eyes closed trying to nap along the road. The whole group was waiting to go home and here I was laying by the road a few miles from the parking lot. I said I was tired and needed to rest.
I tried to reason with him that I wanted to take the road back to the car. He said I was out of my mind and that the road I chose to take a break at would take me miles from where I wanted to be. Somehow I knew he was right. I could barely hold my head up, but I knew he came back to help me and that I should follow his instructions. He made me get back on my bike and start pedaling.
I coasted where I could and walked wherever gravity wasn’t helping. Mike was following and I could hear him sigh everytime I got off my bike to hobble up a little pile of dirt. We eventually arrived at a road crossing which would take us directly to the parking lot. I’m sure the stretch of pavement was less than a mile, but it felt like it was 20.
We reunited with the group. They checked me over for broken bones. I explained that I bonked. The unimpressed group disbanded into their cars and headed for home. I headed straight to the LaGrange General Store where I devoured a sandwich. It was the best food I have ever eaten. Then I passed out in the passenger seat of my friends car for the entire ride home.
I have been back to ride Kettle Moraine many times since that experience. In fact two days ago I enjoyed over 25 miles of the same singletrack. My Garmin GPS watch and heart rate monitor indicated that I burned 4011 calories. A toffee flavored PowerBar Harvest only has 260 calories. I was very far in the hole on that ride in 2002.
Now that I’m older and wiser, I carry extra water and nutrition on these types of rides where I’m far from civilization and expect a variable length of time. Before the most recent ride, I ate a full breakfast and consumed one energy bar (Planter’s Big Nut Bar) and two gels (PowerBar Gel and Hammer Gel) during the ride. I was tired later in the day, but was far from feeling the need to take a nap alongside an unfamilar road. I still stopped at the LaGrange Country Store for a sandwich simply because they make such good food.
Be safe and carry more nutrition than you think you might need. Ride with friends and keep an eye on other riders who may look a little weary. Most of all, enjoy your rides this summer!