Category / Unbound 200

by Shawn McKinney

Unbound ’24 Race Report

Arrived at the starting line 615a and took my place at the back of the pack. Snapped a few shots. Didn’t realize until later, caught Tim Hornik and his tandem partner. I saw them again Sunday morning on the podium in the men’s para category. Tim was wounded in action 20 years ago and lost all sight in one eye and most in the other. An avid cyclist, he’s been doing this event for many years. Surely this must be a good omen.

Also on hand was my brother Kelly who’s doing the 50 and cousin Gregg.

The Three Sanchos we called ourselves in ’16 (when this shot was taken) during our first attempt of the 200 mile course. This place tends to get in the blood.

As the national anthem played, LeAnne Rimes’ beautiful voice ringing, I contemplated gratitude. My wife, kids, brothers, sisters, parents, friends and employer all played a part. My LBS, Arkansas Cycling and Fitness. Training partners. The event organizers. They did an awesome job putting this on. The volunteers. A very long list. Some say getting to the starting line is harder than a finish. So many people helped get me to this one. I had to acknowledge that before letting go…

A few moments later we’re off. Cheering and cowbells. The air was crisp. The sun didn’t want to come out and play. I was OK with that.

A rider went down hard before we made it out of the block. Oof. Can’t unsee that and feel bad for them. Nothing can be done about it. It’s time to GO.

Not much different from the other 6 times. A ton of energy. Folks lining the street. We’re headed North this year. No train to block this exit.

The mood upbeat if not confident. A 3rd try for a fifth finish tends to make one wary. I’ve experienced the highs and lows of this event many times. An upbeat start is no harbinger of success. The cynical side wants to take over and has to be tamped down.

Despite these mixed feelings there was no dread which is a good sign. A decent nights sleep Friday for once. Training and prep were well executed. Legs feel good and promise in the air.

Caught up with fellow Arkansans Jed and David. Met Jed on the course back in ’17 and David not long afterwards.

We used to call ourselves the Arkansas Three. Back when we thought 5 finishes were in the bag. That was then and this is now.

Jed had some troubles and was derailed for a couple of years. David has been battling a serious heart condition. We’re crusty veterans of this race and hold no illusion. Finishes don’t come easy.

The going was good those first 40. We worked together and kept pace. I reconned the middle 75 (Eskridge to Alta Vista) earlier in the week and knew what we were fixing to get into.

Just outside of Eskridge (mile 40) is when the fun starts. Divide road.

Non-trivial. I crawled thru this section working my way around the other riders. Rocky, loose, rutted and punchy. Choose your line carefully. Sharp rocks jut up everywhere.

I got in front of David and Jed ahead of me. Keep the mind in the present. Don’t get in a hurry. We can make up time later. Have fun. Why we’re out here. Before we know it, we’re dropping down into a beautiful valley town called Alma (mile 71).

Gregg was waiting and quickly did the needful to get me going again. Caught up with David on my way out of town who was resting with his wife and daughters.

The next section (Alma to Volland) has nice rollers but its minimal maintenance roads (MMR) are tame in comparison to the previous section. It was here I bumped into Andy Phillips earlier in the week when doing recon. He was out on Bobby Thompson’s Flint Hills Ultra, a 1050 mile bikepacking time trial.

Nothing new for Andy. A veteran of all sorts of these kinds of events. Member of the Unbound 1000 mile club. Finisher of Cannonball and Long Voyage (3 times). Takes off from his home in Topeka on a single speed. Rides however many miles to the town hosting the event and then back home again.

When the sun started to peek out of the clouds David slowed and reminded me that I had to ride my ride. I wasn’t happy about leaving him behind but he was right.

As the air continued to warm, my legs started to cramp. I managed by altering cadence and getting in and out of the saddle. I learned the simple act of counting (in the head) with each breath staved them off. No idea why other than getting the mind to refocus.

Little Egypt road (mile 104) is where my troubles usually started (when on the North course). Had no difficulty on this day. The road itself was in much better shape than years past. Many riders had to walk these hills. I stayed in the saddle.

I knew in advance that if in decent shape by the second water oasis, Alta Vista (mile 112), my chances for a finish were good. In previous years (19, 21) only bad things happened here. Not on this ride. I stopped and the volunteers poured cold water over my head and legs. AHHHHH it felt SO GOOD!! If you’re reading this THANKS!! Y’ALL ARE AWESOME!!

Spirits were soaring as I rode out of town and really from that point on. Yes, it was still warm. Yes, I was riding solo. Yes, there are more miles, hills and chunky sections remaining. None of that seemed to matter. My pace continued to pick up and passed many more riders.

The plan was to meet Kelly and Gregg at CP2, Council Grove (mile 150) around 8p. There I would change into a fresh kit, sit and have a meal. Relax for a spell. Was looking forward to an iced Infinit Cold Brew. Maybe a cookie. But THAT was a Breakfast Club strategy and I was on a Midnight Club pace.

My phone got disconnected from the network and messages weren’t received meaning they didn’t get to the checkpoint in time. No matter. I had paid support (Crew For Hire). I arrived at 630p. A dropbag was waiting with the essentials.

A new plan was being drafted on the fly to get into the Midnight Club. The support crew refilled my bottles as I rebooted the phone and called my brother. They were 18 miles from the checkpoint and I asked them to turn around and meet me at the finish line.

The last 50 were a thing of beauty.

Crossed the line at 1045p.

This gets entry into both the Midnight and 1000 mile clubs. Was a wee wobbly once the adrenaline left. What now? Neil Taylor (Minister of Gravel) guided me out of the corral and made sure I received a medal, patch and glass. Items that go to every finisher. Thanks Neil!!!

When I found Gregg and Kelly and was sprayed with champagne (as if I’d won the race). Having eaten very little solid food, I was famished and a feast was waiting. Settled on smothered steak and gravy from IHOP. It maybe doesn’t sound good to you and never would’ve ordered it myself, but it was EXACTLY what was needed.

Also talked with Kelly Wenz who almost beat the sun. Waited around but missed Jed’s finish not long afterwards.

When I snapped a shot of Nick Gilroy who rode a Walmart single speed beach cruiser with his buddies. I saw them out around Little Egypt and couldn’t believe it. What in the …?

Cool dude. He had us cracking up. Why’d you do that? Something about losing a bet.

My brother then drove me back to the hotel where a hot shower and more food were waiting. Began to anxiously check the results for David and Bill Jeffery who was out doing the XL. I’d heard from a friend earlier that David made it to CP2 and was headed for Emporia. I texted and told him we’d be at the finish line. Was driving there when he texted back that he was pulled from the course. Still don’t know why but having breakfast with him and Jed this weekend and will get the story then.

Sunday was a day of celebration. Always one to attend the Unbound closing ceremony, this day Jed and I were up there as well.

by Shawn McKinney

Why are you here?

We must all be looking for something.

There should be no surprises as the queue snakes its way alongside both ditches. We were warned.

Trudging, stopping, starting, barbed wire gnashes our bodies. Over the mud is the only way out.

Don’t do it! You can’t ride this road. No skipping this queue. It’s not a freeway. Everyone has a turn.

How it goes when riding in the prairie. Keep walking like everyone else. It’ll pass. Don’t know when.

Over that next corner or hilltop will be a respite.

Or not. Truckers will honk in solidarity. They understand. They’re with us. If only a moment. Are we losing control? Where is the line and have we crossed?

Forget it. The mud has released us. We’re done walking. Scrape off and get on with it.

It must be 20, 30 miles later when the sun gets to play its part. Why are you out here it also seems to be asking. Don’t you know what I can do to you?

Don’t listen. It’s no friend. Get ahold of yourself. The oasis is not that far and we can fill up. Not in spirit. Yeah, there’s upbeat music, but this is no party. Keep going.

Eureka’s 40 miles and motors will bog in the heat. Where is that threshold? There it is down deep. An angry stir. Better back off just a bit.

We won’t make it in time and might as well quit? Are we only here for the finish?

Fuck that shit. It’s more than that. Keep pouring down the salt and sugar. Hold steady and don’t lose focus. No one knows what lies ahead.

Grind up and back down. Over, over and over again. Those river bottoms are whispering us to stop. Don’t fall for their lies. We can’t stop. Not here and not now.

The thirst. Maybe they’ll come with the cold water again. Like last time we were here. Remember how cold it was? How good it tasted? Where are they?

In that quiet, peaceful little town they are waving and shouting. Did we do something wrong? Are we seconds under the cutoff?

That means we’re still in this. But we can’t rest there’s more work to be done. Get moving even though all we really want to do is stay.

A storm can energize or drain what power remains. It’s a choice. Get back what the sun took. Complete the cycle.

Why are you calling? They can’t get to us. I hope you find a way back home. We have to go. Our power has returned. Why would we stay wet, cold and huddling?

It feels much better and hope returns along with its seductive promises. We’ve earned one more chance to find out why we came.

And the Flint Hills will always reveal her beauty to those willing to endure the pain. She plays hard to get. Punishes in order to cleanse. Where it can be washed by the rain.

Now that we’re climbing again we must be careful. Over the wet, rocky slopes and let er rip across the open spaces in between. Hold that line and go faster.

After the rains fickle winds get to change direction. Pushing gently against us. Perhaps the hills and the wind are working together. They won’t let us leave until we know why we came.

Another oasis bodies lay spent and contorted. Expressions range from grim to defeated. There’s the timing strip. Who’s going to stop us now?

Not the Hills.

Sorry about that derailleur dude. It was a hell of a good try. You really showed us something today. Maybe that is why you were here.

No bloke, I don’t carry an iPhone charger. I’d give you one if I could. Here’s a phone to call support. The number is on dead phone? You could have prepared better. Maybe that’s why you were here.

You wouldn’t quit after missing a cutoff 50 miles back old man. Stopping to encourage stragglers. Maybe that’s why you’re here.

A fifth finish not this day my friend. You gave it a good fight. So you’ll help your buddies get into the club. Isn’t that why you’re here?

No, I don’t think we should ride ma’am. We’re in the mud again. Yes, I’d rather ride too. No lights yet there you calmly go. That must be why you’re here.

…

It doesn’t hurt anymore. The fear is gone leaving only peace. We must be close to finding the answer.

As darkness envelops the coyotes and moon compete for attention. The cool air draws moisture from earth and sky covering us in a cold embrace. It will be over soon and then we will know why we came.

photos courtesy of Aaron Davis