Heywood 55 Ride Report: Dustin Hruby Wyttenhove
Words by Dustin Hruby Wyttenhove, Piecycle Race Team Member
On Saturday May 17, 2024 I took part in The Heywood Ride, a “gravel road ride taking place in the rolling countryside south of the Minneapolis/St. Paul metroplex”. It is an extremely fun and accessible event based out of Northfield, MN which allows riders to get out and experience some really great gravel riding, without the self-seriousness and pressure of the increasingly competitive modern gravel racing scene. I chose to ride in the 55 mile ride, which is the most popular, but the event stages rides ranging from 30 miles all the way up to a 390 mile endurance-fest that leaves at midnight on the Thursday before. Registration is just $25 regardless of distance, and folks can ride whatever sort of bike they want, including e-bikes (shoutout to the dad I’ve seen 2 years in a row bringing their toddler along on the back of the e-cargo bike - goals). Support is minimal on the ride, but depending on the distance there are one or two stops where riders can rest and refill water.
This was my second year doing The Heywood Ride, both times on the 55 mile route. My training plan involves bike-commuting on my e-cargo bike 3-4 times per week, trying to use my bike for errands whenever possible, and the occasional party/pastry-paced social ride. So while I ride regularly, and have done a few longer events this spring already, I have not exactly been Training with a capital T. I went into the 55-mile ride feeling confident that whether I wanted to push myself and go for speed, or spin the legs and enjoy the scenery, I would be able to accomplish it without getting in over my head.
My ride started a little chaotically though, as I was running behind with getting my shoes and sunscreen on, checking-in, getting the course loaded on my Garmin (more on that later), and getting ready to ride in the half an hour or so between when I arrived in town and the 55 mile rollout. Due to my poor planning I missed the grand depart at 9:00, instead starting a minute or two later and having to play catch-up from the jump. Fortunately I caught the back of the group at the last turn out of town, but between the scramble of just getting my wheels rolling, having to play catch-up right away, knowing I had (fast) friends ahead, and my bike feeling good, my brain had shifted into race mode very early.
Not helping my mind and body relax was the fact that the first few sections of the ride were an absolute blast! I had adrenaline pumping, I was passing people, and the sun was shining as we followed the Cannon River northeast towards Cannon Falls. I managed to catch a few friends and chat with them for a bit, which is always some of the best parts of doing events like these. Being out on bikes in the sunshine, having a good time with your pals is the perfect way to spend a Saturday (or Monday, or Thursday evening, or…).
Unfortunately tailwinds don’t last forever, and after about 10 miles we turned into both the wind and the hills. Chatter died down as everyone put their heads down and shifted into their climbing gears, putting in the first hard efforts of the ride (assuming you haven’t been sprinting since the beginning). I like a good climb so this section is one of my favorites, consisting of three climbs, all about the same length, each immediately followed by a speedy descent back down. While I do love going fast on two wheels, I’m still not wholly confident on gravel descents so I tend to find a line I’m comfortable with and keep the brakes covered and controlled just in case things feel too loose underneath me. At the bottom of the third descent and as a treat for finishing this section riders can take a second to pause and check out the Oxford Mill ruins, an old grain mill along the river that operated from 1878 to 1905. I admittedly forgot to do this, so it’s on the list for next year’s ride.
I never feel as fast on a bike as when I have been on a long gravel section, dealing with the constant bumps and chatter of the surface and the bike, then suddenly turn off onto a paved road. Along with the obvious physical effect of having a smoother surface to transfer my pedal strokes into distance, the difference mentally between gravel and road riding provides a similar sort of sudden smoothness. Whereas gravel riding often requires a higher level of mental focus because I am constantly evaluating the road surface, trying to identify and follow the smoothest line while avoiding the thicker and looser sections that will slow me down or wash me out, coming out onto a paved road always feels like I can suddenly quiet my brain, point my bike forward, and blast off. The next chunk of the route, 7 miles or so, was mostly paved so I used it as a chance to hop into some pace lines and put some power down, while also taking a break and letting my mind regroup after a slightly frenzied start.
These mental and physical breaks were necessary because up next is the main attraction, big-ticket event of the Heywood Ride - the MMR climb. Back on the gravel and about a mile down the road we saw the bright yellow sign stating “MINIMUM MAINTENANCE ROAD - Travel At Your Own Risk”, then just around the corner from that a seemingly vertical wall of gravel strewn with riders. Last year I wasn’t able to make it up, getting stuck behind another rider and spinning out my back wheel before I was halfway up the first pitch. Not wanting a repeat this year I made sure to pick a line that was mostly free of other riders and tried to carry some momentum into the hill before shifting up to the spinny gears and crawling my way up the climb. I’m not sure whether I got up the wall any faster this year, inching along in my lowest gear versus walking last year, but I did appreciate the feeling of accomplishment coming out of the tree-shaded tunnel of the climb into the bright and open flat marking the top.
After the MMR section I took a break at the lone rest stop on the 55 mile route - the Urland Lutheran Church. I was in and out in about 10 minutes, skipping the food they were selling in place of just an energy bar and filling water from the faucet out back. But stopping for any amount of time allowed the adrenaline to wear off, and the heat of the day was starting to build, so by the time I left the church I was already starting to feel pretty drained and slow.
Which was a shame because the next section was some of the nicest and prettiest of the ride, descending down a valley to the Little Cannon River along winding rural roads surrounded by greenery and farmland, before climbing back out on the other side. But with the headwind we would be fighting for the remainder of the course, as well as the occasional weird spot where the wind would suddenly be blocked by the trees and I could feel the full heat of the day, and my low energy out of the rest area, I spent the majority of this section head-down and focused on just keeping the pedals turning. This would be the theme for the rest of the course, actually, as we battled the wind to make it back to Northfield. After climbing out of the valley we worked our way north again on a long gravel section that I don’t have much memory of, before turning finally into the long straight back into town.
I mentioned getting the course loaded onto my Garmin earlier during my scramble to start the ride, and how I would revisit that later. Well here we are. After about 20 minutes of riding I realized my computer was being pretty quiet, not giving me the usual beeps and boops of navigation and tracking I was used to. Thinking it was just being buggy I restarted it, but realized it still wasn’t connected to the satellites or tracking my speed. Rather than investigate I decided to just turn it off and enjoy a morning of bike riding free of electronic distractions. I wasn’t worried about getting lost because I figured the couple hundred other folks I was riding with would keep me on-track (also the course signage was on-point), and not having anything beeping out speed or turns or splits would allow me to focus more on myself and listening to my body and enjoying the ride. And it worked!
But once I hit that final straight back into town and was face to face with the open road and the steady 20-30 mph headwinds I quickly realized I wished I had just a little data. I knew the course finished with the long straight back into town, but with how tired I was already, combined with the wind, I had no bar for how far I had to go to get back. Every time I have recalled the situation since I seemed to add an extra mile or two to the distance, saying I was crawling along up and down the last couple hills for 10, 12, 15 miles depending who I was talking to. Looking at the course map now, it was only about 5 miles from the turn back to town, and half of that was paved. But while I was out there I could have sworn it was a quarter of the route. I even had an emergency caffeine gel in the middle because I was starting to bonk, although I probably only had about 3 miles left in the ride. If I had come into the section with my little computer telling me I only had 5 miles to go I probably would have been reacting very differently and feeling more relaxed, but in the end I suppose that’s half the fun of turning the gadgets off - just ride until you’re done riding and don’t worry about the details.
The last few blocks in town are a nice end to the ride, going past houses and the golf course on the way back to Central Park. Like much bigger events it even sends riders through a finishing chute before you reach the line, although instead of big branded inflatable arches riders follow the tree-arched sidewalk into the center of park, with friends, fans, and fellow riders cheering them to the finish line at the center of the plaza. I got a high five from the organizers and had my official finisher portrait taken. Then I ditched my bike and made a beeline for the whole roasted pork sandwich line on the other side of the park before sitting down in the grass with friends to cheer on the other finishers as they rolled in.
