My First Unbound Experience - by C. Poulson

My First UNBOUND Experience

Before I knew about UNBOUND and months before the race, my sister Stephanie won the lottery for entry. I was excited for her and agreed to go for moral support. By nature, I'm not competitive, so I had no interest in a race, and certainly not with the large crowds my mind conjured up, descending upon the small town of Emporia. I grew up in a small town and know they don't like outsiders coming in and taking over. Being fifty-five, I've also learned a few things about myself. I love riding a bike, spending time with my family, learning new things, being adventurous, and helping others succeed. But I've also learned I do not like the heat, crowds, or rudeness—all the things that I thought UNBOUND would be. But I love my sister, and she was so stinking excited about this race. So, as a big sister will do, I started preparing myself for the crowds and rudeness that were sure to come, and googled which little coffee shop I was going to camp out in while she raced. Between November and February, Stephanie asked me to ride with her, and I promptly declined. But eventually, as little sisters will do, she wore me down enough to enter when there was an opening in the 25-mile group—the same group she was in.

Training for UNBOUND with my son, Jared, was a journey of self-discovery. Our Tuesday Nacho Ride, a twenty-one-mile journey, was a significant milestone. But the real victory was when Jared, with pride in his eyes, declared that I was ready for the race. This moment of recognition was more rewarding than any finish line could be.

Fast forward to the day before the race, Stephanie and I went for packet pickup and rode a few miles to meet a new group of gravel cyclists she had joined called the Dirt Squad for lunch. I struggle to meet new people when I'm already out of my comfort zone. Packet pickup and crowds of people and their bikes filled the main street. There were people everywhere, walking around the main streets of Emporia.  A plethora of booths were set up over many blocks, filling up parking lots. Barricades blocked off several streets, making it hard to maneuver around—except by bike, of course. It crossed my mind several times that the locals had to be counting down the hours until all the "bikers" left. These were my thoughts when I met some of the members of the Dirt Squad. They were welcoming and chatted about the races to take place the next day. I learned they were here from all over the United States. It intrigued me that they would come to Emporia to ride on gravel roads in a bike race. I quietly ate and listened as they discussed the 350- and 250-mile races and the Dirt Squad riders participating in the 200-, 100-, and 50-mile races. A part of me thought they must be slightly crazy. These races are on gravel roads, not chat bike paths. But they were genuinely excited to get out there and ride. Not in a hyped up, everyone grunting and yelling sort of way, but you could tell by the tone in which they spoke about it, and would recall other races I had never heard of. You could feel the positive energy. It was infectious, and I found myself getting caught up in their excitement. One thing that stood out to me was that these were not your stereotypical cyclists. They were all shapes and sizes, and were still riding longer distances than I had ever thought about riding in one go. When lunch ended, I thought, this is a group I might enjoy being a part of.

But this day was far from over. Stephanie wanted to do a group ride with All Bodies on Bikes. This sounded like my kind of group, too. I do not have a cyclist's body. Well, at least not the one that comes to mind for most. I mean, I ride a bike with a body, so I have a cyclist's body, it's just rounder than most. As we gathered at the meeting point for the "shake out ride," many people were congregating, all different shapes and sizes, friendly, welcoming, and excited to ride their bikes with a group of people who loved riding as much as they did. For the first time, I looked around the main street at all the people. They were all smiling even though it was HOT. All chatting, walking in and out of storefronts, stopping at food trucks, many pushing bikes. Little kids pedaled their trikes. Young families pushed strollers. The police were even smiling as they made their way up and down the streets on foot and bikes! It struck me how this group of strangers all bonded over gravel roads and bicycles. A feeling of belonging settled over me. It was a strange, unexpected feeling to have in the middle of a crowd that under any other circumstances, I would have avoided like the plague. But in that moment, I felt like I was part of something bigger, something special.

Eventually, the shake-out ride began. I did well until the group of a hundred or so cyclists stopped at the base of a steep hill. I struggled to get going because I was in the wrong gear. Finally, I pushed the bike to the top. Stephanie stayed with me and a couple of others who were struggling as well. It wasn't an ideal spot to be in, and then we had some confusion on where the others had turned. It was around 3:30 pm, and the hot Kansas sun beat down on us. Our small group of six made it our 13-mile ride. We laughed, stopped when we needed to, enjoyed the downhills, and stayed with one another until the finish. I made two new friends, one of whom lives in the same town as me! We didn't finish with the large portion of the group, but we finished together. It was a bonding ride and a fantastic memory that I still smile when recalling. After the shake-out ride, Stephanie and I drove back to our little rental in Topeka. I was tired but energized.

Early race day morning, we ate and loaded up our bikes. My stomach was not doing well. I thought it was nerves, but it just wouldn't settle. By the time we lined up for the 25-mile race, I was completely dehydrated. The sensible me said, "Don't race; this isn't going to end well." The not-so-sensible me said, "Just get some electrolytes in you. You'll be fine!" I didn't have time to listen to the sensible me because the XL 350-mile racers that started at about the same time that I was struggling up the hill on the shake-out ride were coming across the finish line. The first-place rider, Robert Britton, nearly fell off his bike after riding all night long. It was emotional, to the point of tears, watching him come across the finish line. Less than ten minutes later, Lachlan Morton came across the finish line. You know those rare moments when you feel like you've witnessed a part of something great in history? Yeah, it was like that.

So, on that high moment, it was time to start. Once lined up, the energy shifted to anticipation. There were photographers snapping pictures, one rider with a box of wine and Miller Lite for his hydration, mothers, daughters, fathers, sons, grandmas, grandpas, and so many others all lined up to race. I searched for my new friend Alicia from yesterday's ride, but couldn't find her. Stephanie and I stayed at the back of the riders. I was nervous about getting run over by other cyclists. I made eye contact with a couple of older ladies, who I found out were sisters,  and offered to take a picture of Stephanie and me. They were residents of Emporia. This got my attention, and I looked beyond the corral to those on the sides. It was full of Emporia residents cheering riders on. Their support humbled me. They were genuinely happy to have all of the out-of-towners there to race and ride on their gravel roads.

The gun sounded, and the older sisters waved and cheered. The police led the way by car and blocked the main roads to let the riders get to the gravel. They waved and said, "Good luck," as we went by. Many cyclists, including myself, yelled thank you as we rode by. About five miles in, I was reminded that I probably shouldn't have started this race as I sipped on my electrolyte-infused water and chewed energy gummies. I had two liters of water with me. Overall, it was a difficult but fun ride to the checkpoint. There, I saw Lucas from the shake-out ride. He was working and encouraging riders. I refueled with pickle juice (which I love), chocolate, and fruit. When I was getting ready to take off, Alicia rode up. It was good to see we were all hanging in there, making this race an individual one, proving more to ourselves than to others. Water bottles refilled, Stephanie and I started again. I felt surprisingly good. That was short-lived. After about a mile in, I told Stephanie to make this a race for herself and ride ahead at a pace that challenged her. She did, and it made me happy to see her in her natural element, riding off. After another two to three miles, the sun worked its voodoo on me. I could feel the wall hitting. I just kept pedaling, stopping in the shady spots I could find. When I didn't think I could go any further, there would be a small family at the end of their driveway cheering me on. Again, I was humbled by the people of Emporia. It was hot, humid, and Saturday. Certain they had other things to do, but they chose to be out there cheering on riders. There were two other riders keeping pace with Stephanie and me. One was at a higher level, like Stephanie. Polly was at a similar level to me. The sun was beating her up, too. We encouraged each other along the way. There was a hill that I couldn't get up because I didn't get my gears changed quickly enough. That does me in each time. I walked it up, thinking about giving up, and realizing even if I gave up, I still had to ride back. Polly passed by and said, "You can do this."

We passed each other and kept the encouragement going until we faced Hot Dog Hill. I started up completely on empty. A crew member came over and said, "You can do this. I can help you get in the right gear." I looked back and saw Polly pushing her bike. I said, "Thank you, but I'm going up with her." Stephanie, who had finished the race, rode down the sidewalk along the hill to encourage us up the rest of the way. Spectators were encouraging all the riders up the hill with someone in a hot dog costume at the top!

Polly and I reached the top and made our way to the finish line. When it was in view, I said, "We did it! Let's finish this together." She nodded, and to cheers, cow bells, and shouts of "They're neck and neck!" from the people of Emporia, Polly and I crossed the finish line at exactly the same time. We weren't first to the finish line, nor were we last, but we finished first in the race with ourselves to the cheers and encouragement of Emporia. That was my first UNBOUND, and I can't wait to do it again...better hydrated and experienced with gear changes, of course.