Report: The Sugarcane 200. Wait, nevermind. The Sugarcane 150.

By Logan Jones-Wilkins  

Ah, nothing like the chirping of alligators in the morning.

A chorus of those spooky songs called out from all directions as I rode down a desolate gravel road about 30 miles west of Palm Beach, Florida. I was searching for a suitable place to take care of my pre-race pee before the 5AM start of the Sugarcane 200.

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“I’ve been riding”: The Monastic Life of the Student Cyclist

Staring down a 200-mile bike race is scary. REALLY scary.

Staring down a 200-mile bike race in January is just plain old silly.

For me the Sugarcane 200 will be my maiden odyssey into the wild world of gravel racing. I am excited for the challenge ahead, however, I really don’t have many wise things to say going into it. I know next to nothing about the competition, except that Ted King is one grade-A certified fast dude. I know next to nothing about the course, except it is longer than long and flatter then flat. Lastly, I know next to nothing about nutrition and tactics, except I need a lot of food and even more patience.

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