Straddling his mountain bike in the stillness of the morning, Derek Kozlowski stood alone at the trailhead of the Trans North Georgia (TNGA) individual time trial course and considered the miles ahead of him. As this year's race director, he wanted to gain a more intimate knowledge of the notorious course, so after watching the sun rise, he drew a deep breath, pushed off and hit the start button on his SPOT.
"There was no backing-out at that point," explains Kozlowski, who lives and trains in Northwest Georgia. "I had announced my intentions to race the course on several Facebook sites I am active on, so as soon as the SPOT went up, I knew everyone would be watching and wondering if I would make it, and I did."
Two and a half days later, after literally 64 hours on the trial, Koz pedaled triumphantly across the finish line in the darkness some 350 miles west of where he started. Beaten, but not broken, he took a photo of the Welcome to Alabama sign and posted it to Facebook as proof of his accomplishment.
On August 24, 50 ultra-distance mountain bikers from all over the country will suffer the TNGA, the merciless mountain biking race traversing a mountainous span across northern Georgia with over 56,000 feet of elevation gain. It starts on the border of South Carolina and Georgia, twists and turns, climbs and descends 350 miles along mountain roads, forest service roads and rugged single-track trails before ending west of Rome, Georgia.
It pits racer against racer, racer against nature and racer against himself or herself. Riders push off with bikes loaded down with food, water, sleeping pads, bivvies and emergency gear. They camp on the sides of roads. They filter water from creeks to refill their bottles. They stop at gas stations and roadside stands and consume beef jerky, mixed nuts, fig newtons or whatever fare they can find to help them refuel. "The race is self-supported, which means, racers are totally on their own. They carry what they need," Koz says. "There are no SAG [Support and Gear] stops or rolling resupply. There is no sweep vehicle if you decide to quit early. You can quit anytime you want-but you'll have to get yourself home."
The clock runs continuously from the time riders start until they cross the finish line in Alabama. All riders must carry a SPOT Satellite GPS Messenger, which, according to Kozlowski, "helps find the carcass if something goes wrong." Race officials and virtual spectators monitor the progress of each participant on trackleaders.com and on the SPOT website.
To date, three ultra-endurance mountain bike racers-Shey Lindner, Eddie O'Dea and Jason Murrell-hold the TNGA record of 2:00:34 (48.57 hours). Their time represents a super-human average of 7.2 miles per hour on dirt, over steep mountain passes, across rocky creeks and through overgrown forestlands with just a few rest stops thrown in the mix. "It's about conquering geography," notes Jason Murrell, a course record holder from Ocoee, Tennessee who plans to beat his time this year. "And of course, sleep deprivation is a real challenge, especially if you are going for a fast time. Last year, I slept around three hours during the entire race. The last 30 miles, I was hallucinating so bad I could barely keep it together."
Both Murrell and Kozlowski say the mental challenges are harder to overcome than the physical elements of the race. Dehydration, lack of adequate caloric intake, sleep deprivation and mental and physical fatigue adversely affect racers' brains, thoughts and willpower. But most keep moving-keep hammering-as fast as they can, all the while trying not to crack.
"The section west of Dalton to the finish is pure brutal," Murrell says. "To me, this is the section that makes the Trans North Georgia truly epic-lots of hiking, poison ivy, very limited water, and very, very rugged." Kozlowski agrees. "Going uphill on the rough trail at Stanley Gap near Blue Ridge is pretty challenging, but west of Dalton-Snake Creek Gap Trail to East Armuchee Road-is just wicked."
TNGA participants must not only be conditioned to endure hours upon hours of physical torture on the saddle, but they must bring GPS navigational skills to the race as well. The route is unmarked and rather circuitous and confusing at times. Of the 50 racers who dare to take on the challenge, less than half will finish the course. The race offers no formal prize or title. "Finishers get bragging rights-that's it," says Koz. "TNGA racers are a different breed. It's a smaller community of racers who rebel against the high entry fee races and have turned to the free competitions, just to prove to themselves that they can do it."
Racers boast that the TNGA is the ultimate test of physical endurance, selfreliance and mental fortitude this side of the 2,745-mile Tour Divide, a similar, but longer race which crosses the backbone of the Rockies from Banff, Alberta, Canada to Southern New Mexico.
In its fourth year, the Trans North Georgia is still in its infancy, but growing. Kozlowski says that groups have contacted him about eventually connecting to the TNGA course.
"One group is working to complete a system of trails that will wind from Northeastern Alabama down to the Gulf," he says. "And another group is working on a linked trail system from North Carolina through South Carolina to the Georgia border. So it is feasible that at some point in the future, the Trans North Georgia course will be part of a longer, more grinding route from the Carolinas all the way to the Gulf of Mexico. Now that will really be something!"