The Finger Lakes Freshet 150 Mile Bike Race

Erin Hassett
6 days ago
15 min read

I had never done a bike race before. Generally speaking, I'm not very speedy, and a short distance bike race would surely have me left in the dust by all other contenders. But when my friend Bryan proposed his novel Finger Lakes Freshet, I thought why not! This was a gravel route in my home region, and the general vibe was different than a formal “race”: folks were encouraged to bike and camp together. So, I knew I'd be in good company, and I wanted to consider this more of a personal challenge rather than trying to beat the other riders. It also didn’t cost anything, so there was nothing at all to lose.

I'll admit though, having my first challenge be 155 miles of gravel and 14,200 ft+ elevation gain seemed intense. On top of that, it was the first weekend in May, and biking season for me only started a few weeks ago. This would also be the most elevation I would have biked, ever. Also, it was going to rain the whole weekend. All these factors had me concerned about my physical ability to do this.

Sounded like a good plan!

TL;DR: Video recap on Instagram

About The Race

The Finger Lakes Freshet is the brain child of race leader Paul Vidovich and Bryan Brown, two friends of mine in the local cycling community in Ithaca, NY.

Bryan Brown (left) and Paul Vidovich (right)

After scouting out the gravel roads in the region, they crafted 3 potential race options:

The Tiny Trickle: 58 miles

The Swollen Stream: 154 miles

The Raging River: 500 miles

They did a fabulous job at routing everyone along the same track for the beginning, encouraging group riding and camaraderie. Though the Tiny Trickle folks would likely finish in a day, the other two routes would be overnighters.

As much as I’d have loved to do the full 500, in order to turn up for work on Monday, I settled on Option 2: Swollen Stream. It would take me through familiar state forests: Hammond Hill, Danby, Shindagin, and the Finger Lakes National Forest. I was also fairly sure I could finish, albeit uncomfortably, in 2 days.

Day 1: Ithaca to Shindagin (65 miles)

Strava map: https://strava.app.link/wmVK2x8v8Sb

At 8 AM, riders were systematically rolling into Stewart Park in Ithaca, NY. The sky was ominously gray and dreary, but despite the gloomy forecast, excitement was in the air. Bryan and Paul had an assortment of bananas, granola bars, and water for folks, and participants (old and new acquaintances) mingled, waiting for the start. When a new person arrived, everyone curiously flocked to assess their bike setup, much like an old car show. The variation in bags, packs, panniers, and gadgetry allowed for comparative morning chatter.

About 50 people signed up for the race, though only ~27 or so arrived on the day, most scratching because of the weather. Those with thicker skin (or stubbornness) wouldn’t let the conditions keep them from riding.

Each rider had their photo professionally taken with their bikes, and we did brief introductions: where we were from, what race we were riding, and what was the most useless price of gear that we brought. The winner went to the guy who brought sunscreen—already, it had started to rain.

Excitingly, I got to meet a badass New York lady, Jody Dixon, who I had been following for some time. Jody is almost 70 and often competes in long distance bikepack racing. Known as the TATR queen, she has completed the 580+ mile gnarly Adirondack Trail Ride several times, sometimes being the only woman rider. Our interaction was brief as she arrived later, and we separated quickly at the start, but I hope to bike with her again some day!

Then the line up! All riders stood side by side for a photo start, and Bryan popped a small fire cracker. We were off!

Our ride out of Stewart Park was a social collective mass. We hauled our bikes over large boulders under a bridge and then cranked up to Cornell through steep, paved switchbacks. The trees were blossoming on these sleepy, rainy streets, and the immediate uphill quickly warmed us up. We road a causal 15 mile uphill to the town Dryden, riders spacing out substantially during this time. Mostly, Uri and I cycled with our friend Sondra, another hardcore cycling lady!

Along the route were few outdoor water refill locations, one in Dryden at a hose on the side of the Dryden Public Works building. Unsure quite when our next needed water break would be, we took the opportunity to top off our bottles, fairly certain that the water was safely potable.

Uri, Bryan, and I continued cycling the Jim Schug trail, passing rainy wetlands and enjoying some flat gravel before getting slammed by the steep and densely foggy Star Stanton Rd into Hammond Hill State Forest. This was our first, and certainly not last, time hiking our bike uphill because pedaling was impossible (at least for me).

Of both days of riding, biking through Hammond Hill State Forest was the toughest part, physically. After connecting back up with Paul who was waiting at the next junction, the four of us had a substantial hike-a-bike through a snowmobile trail. The trail was thick with mud–– the sticky kind that resembled peanut butter. My tires were pretty bald, and I could not gain traction as I spun my wheels into the muck. The energy-output-to-distance-moved ratio was so great that it sapped my energy for the rest of the day, and my leg muscles were shot. Periodically, I had to even dismount and walk my bike downhill, the terrain so steep and slick that I was worried about crashing.

Next, the climb up to Greek Peak ski resort! This was more familiar territory. The steep ascents and descents were emotionally easier to power through since I knew them pretty well, and we were rewarded with a buttery paved descent to the base of Valentine Hill Rd. There was a picture-esque, white church with tulips and an outdoor spigot waiting for us, and we desperately washed our bike chains, re-lubed them (futile), and had an extreme snacking session. I cold-soaked ramen for a nice salty, carb-loaded snack.

Simon (in red) popped by briefly before pushing on ahead––he was also biking the 150, and we periodically frog-hopped. It became really nice to see a familiar face along the route.

One of the moments I enjoyed most today was riding along Griggs Gulf Rd. Not only was it a net decent on a sleepy, car-less, gravel road, but the route meandered alongside a stream on the right and a steep rock face on the left. Even in the rain, it was beautiful and tranquil.

Paul cruised ahead while Bryan, Uri, and I loitered at the trail magic! Sprinkled throughout the course were large totes of goodies for the riders, often placed by other cyclists involved in the race or Finger Lakes Cycling Club. We splurged on chips and cookies, a sweet and necessary morale booster.

West Hill Rd was our beast for the day, as foreboding as its name. Uri and I walked for most of it, taking over an hour to get to the top. But with the physical uphill battle, we were rewarded with a thrilling, eye watery, zoomy downhill that reminded me why I purposefully choose to suffer.

And we finally caught back up with Simon who had pulled ahead earlier. The four of us now (me, Uri, Bryan, and Simon) battled Andersen Hill Rd before we made it to our destination for the night, around mile 65. Uri and I originally wanted to push to mile 75 in the Shindagin forest, but it was nearing 7:30 PM and dusk was settling in. Plus, we were positively beat. Most influentially, Paul emotionally lured us into his backyard with the promise of hotdogs.

When we arrived at Paul's, there were a couple people already lounging under the large ~20 ft or so overhang. It was a beautiful cacophony of muddy bikes, wet clothing, and tired, happy humans. A grill was fired up and the promised dogs were roasting. As we peeled off our cold layers of soaked fabric, we became more acquainted with our suffer-mates. We met ~60 year old David from Brazil/Vermont (he helps run Vermont Bikepackers) and ~30 year old Jake from Ithaca, both who were signed up for the 500 mile route. Another guy from Costa Rica biking the 150 arrived later. Importantly, we all madly snacked, relaxed, and compared notes on the day. Though tomorrow would be a longer day of riding (90 miles), socializing was much needed for the spirit and well worth it.

Notably, I was the only gal biking the 150 miler. Jody (biking the 500) couldn’t make it to camp tonight as she was having technical issues with her navigation in the rain and had to scratch from the race. I was sad to miss her! I'm fairly used to being the only female in adventures like this, but sometimes it would be nice to have some more lady energy.

One of the best parts about hanging out with bikepacking folks is the universal early bedtime. We all pitched our tents in a cozy ring along Paul's pond. Spring peepers and bull frogs began their chorus which I was naively excited to fall asleep to, until about 11 PM when I succumbed to ear plugs. At some point in the wee hours of the morning, the frog calls converted to bird whistling.

Day 2: Shindagin to Ithaca (90 miles)

Strava map: https://strava.app.link/vOxzmlbw8Sb

5:30 AM and a few tents started to simultaneously sound alarms—tents likely filled with riders needing 8 more hours of sleep.

With about 90 miles of riding today (oof), I needed an early start if I wanted to finish before dark. I was the first out and prepping breakfast, packing my bags, and stretching as others trickled in. One of the other cyclists prepared hot water for everyone, and I indulged in hot chocolate and coffee. Such a luxury!

Uri made the tough call to return to Ithaca that morning. He was recovering from a year-long Achilles pain that flared up the day before, and having another day of hills would only make it worse. So, while I continued on, he took the easier 16 mile ride back to try to recover.

I departed at 7, shortly after Simon. I knew Bryan and Paul were speedier than me and would catch up quickly. With Paul living on a hill, Simon and I briskly began the morning by hiking our bikes uphill through the fog––a fast way to wakeup, second to caffeine.

We had a fresh and awakening downhill that unveiled a beautiful farmland vista settled in fog! I admired it only a brief moment before mud splattered my face and grit filled my eyeballs. I regret not having front fenders.

I (we) also made the tactical mistake of not turning left to go to the first open shop in Speedsville to grab some hot morning carbs. Instead, Simon and I powered straight through to Shindagin Forest with some more punchy morning hills for breakfast instead.

Compared to Hammond Hill, Shindagin was very well-drained and rocky. The air was misty and refreshening, and flowers along the trail side were blooming. One of the perks of biking slow is the ability to admire the flora and fauna: blooming trillium flowers and Eastern newts, bountifully.

Simon and I chatted through the forest and had to both stop for mild bike repair; neither of our brakes fully worked going down these steep, wet hills. Squeezing my brake pads as hard as possible, I still propelled forward at an alarming speed. So, we spent some time tending to this until it felt safe to ride again.

Soon, Jake caught up to us, followed by Bryan, Paul, and David. As a group, we cranked to the top of the gravel Leonard Rd then collectively bombed down the massive hill to the cute town of Brooktondale.

Brookton’s Market would have been a great place to get pastries and coffee had they been open at that time. While the guys were resting up and snacking before the next section, I continued on knowing they’d catch up to me again. With Uri gone, I wanted to keep crossing paths with other riders for safety and camaraderie, and I didn't want to lose them if I let them get too far ahead. David stayed behind to wait for the market to open and then joined with Simon––I didn't get to see those two again for the duration of the ride, but, they finished the 150 route just after midnight!

I began a tough and solo climb, first on pavement and then on a muddy trail through the woods. This trail then turned into a wider, long and slow bouncy gravel descent. At this point, I had a lot of wind in my sails––it felt really cool to be standing up on my bike, dodging muddy pot holes, and zipping downhill. I felt in control and FAST, like I was in a video game. An older woman walking her dog cheered for me as I passed, and that lifted my spirits even more.

Then, I popped out into the town of Danby! Finally, my first cafe was open, and the barista knew exactly what was going on. Seeing my bike helmet on and my whole face and body covered in mud splatter, he stated matter-of-factly, “The freshet, right? You’re the first one here.”

It was a sweet little yellow cafe with groovy tunes (Thievery Corporation radio station is super rad), and the mix of pantry/grocery items and fresh breakfast for purchase was perfect for hungry bikepackers who needed to pocket snacks to-go. A double espresso and muffin was essential as I intentionally avoided heavy protein, and I refilled my water bottles and hung around as Jake, Bryan, and Paul arrived minutes after me. While they ordered full breakfast sandwiches, I decided to hit the road sooner to cover more ground before they caught up to me again.

Michigan Hollow Rd in the Danby State Forest was a load of fun, and I happily enjoyed my moments of solitude. Properly caffeinated, I cruised downhill on the hard-packed yet slick and muddy road. I couldn’t see far in front of me as the landscape was socked in by heavy fog, but it felt epic and spooky. Jake caught up to me right as we turned onto Bald Hill Rd.

“You’re cooking! I’ve been behind you for a while!” He passed me promptly (he used to race mountain bikes!), and I didn't see him again the rest of the trip. He ended up finishing the 500 mile route the following Thursday evening (~6 days of cycling).

Bryan and Paul caught up to me again around mile 30, on the long ascent up the steep and paved Tupper road. It was one of the roads that seemingly never ended. A man by his mailbox informed me that I had a long way to go, and my eye twitched (I detest negative, useless comments like this.) Yesterday, a man in a truck let me know that I had a lot more hills coming up, as if I also didn't know that already.

Another box of trail magic! This time with chocolates, chips, and chain cleaning materials. Paul, Bryan, and I paused here a while to get our fix of goodies. We spent some time scraping chunks of muck from our sprockets and chains, everything now making curious squeaks and clicks. Sugared and ready to go, I moved ahead solo for a little while longer.

Riding on paved roads now, I cruised through gentle rolling hills in the fog where cows were partly vanished in the shroud. Feeling strong still but tired, I muscled all the energy I could to out-sprint a dog that was hot on my heels. We raced a few blocks, the dog inching closer and closer to my back tire before it let off and allowed me freedom.

I delightfully ripped through another long gravel downhill where I was standing up on my bike, dodging boulders and potholes. My bike was Jackson Pollocked in mud, as was my face. I coasted past a mother and young daughter, the mom with her mouth widely agape as the two waved excitedly. I don't know if this reaction extended to the guys riding the route too, but I know it must be more unusual to see women doing this kind of activity. This is why representation matters––young girls need to see other females doing cool stuff.

In Newfield, it looked apocalyptic. Heavy fog enveloped the forests and houses, and the sky was darkening. Massive trees were uprooted, their root masses upturned and exposed to the air. Pine branches were strewn on the roads. Some trees were collapsed on houses. An older woman hobbling down the street informed me that it all happened suddenly Friday night in a flash storm. Her house was spared, fortunately.

I zoomed through.

Second to last state forest: Connecticut Hill. By the time I reached Connecticut Hill Rd, it began to heavy downpour. Entering the state forest was so steep, I had to push my bike uphill slow and methodically, my calves beginning to hurt (I didn't consider hike-a-bikes when I chose my zero-drop Ultra footwear). I glanced back to see Paul and Bryan also pushing their bikes in solidarity. It was a long slog, but in a way, I found it quite enjoyable; it's nice to be in a forest while it's raining. I don't think adults experience this as much as they should.

The Connecticut Hill roads were slimy with mud, and fast-flowing, chocolate milk water rushed down the gravel roads. By this point, my brakes were not functioning well again, and Paul’s weren’t either. Bryan was having chain issues with his sprocket/chain not aligning. Our bikes were collectively struggling...kind of like me! Precariously zipping downhill on my bald tires was also heart-throbbingly fun.

Longer stop in Odessa for hot pizza at the Dandy gas station! We charged up some devices and began to get physically chilled by our sedentary wetness and cold air. Again, I parted early from the guys.

Texas Hollow Rd was a low point for me. It was a few miles long with a slight upgrade. Sometimes the mild uphill is worse than the steep grades because it gives you the illusion the road is flat, and it feels frustrating to struggle and move slow. The road was also a compact sand-like texture, and it was another turtle-speed slog where every pedal push felt like twice the effort. By now, the heavy rain calmed, and it was just drizzling; I felt a deep fatigue. Pizza calories did not hype me up as soon as I needed them to. I kept grinding, trying to maintain the excitement that this road would lead me to the Finger Lakes National Forest (FLNF), the final forest I needed to overcome this ride.

At mile 60, I arrived to Burnt Hill: the last considerable hill of the whole race! The guys met back up with me here, and we, again, hiked our bikes to the top. It felt good knowing that I wasn't the only one who needed to dismount and walk. Once at the top of the hill, coasting along the top of the FLNF was, surprise, slow and muddy. It felt like dragging sand bags behind the bike. My traction was bad, yet the guys kindly stuck with me.

Picnic Area Rd was our departure spot. Bryan and Paul would continue straight for their 500 mile route, and I’d turn right to head back Ithaca. After some fist bumps and words of encouragement, we split ways.

Getting to the Black Diamond Trailhead (BDT) was the next toughest part, mentally. The BDT was my home stretch, but I had 10 fatiguing and irritating miles of bumpy rolling hills through Trumansburg to get there. Listening to electronic music helped me power through this section.

After the 10 paved miles to Trumansburg, I thought the next 10 gravel miles of the BDT would feel monotonous and arduous (being the last thing I had to do today), but once my tires hit this old rail trail, I was blasting down it with vigorous speed. I rushed through the puddles as the sky darkened (it was now 7:30 PM), and more fog settled into the trail.

Naturally, before I could finish unscathed and in high spirits, my right shifter busted as soon as I made it into Ithaca. I spent the last 3 miles biking in the hardest gear (admittedly, too lazy to manually move my chain). To add salt to the wound, as soon as I entered Stewart Park signaling my grand finish, my wheels hit fractured concrete on the broken bike path, and I had my hardest crash on pavement, bruising my leg. I laid on the walkway for a moment, heavy sighing at my funny misfortune of everything going wrong at the very end.

Just after 8 PM, I rolled back to the starting line with cheers! Uri, Sondra, and Matthew were waiting for me! Some pics were taken, and Sondra spoiled me with a delicious hot toddy (a hot drink, I could have cried!). I feel so fortunate to have such great friends and husband!

This truly was a tough experience, if not the hardest activity I have done. I feel grateful to even be able to do something like this, and I’m really proud to push my limits of what I thought I could physically and mentally do. And I’m so lucky to have such epic and amazing friends who want to do crazy things like this, too!

A quick shoutout to our friend Keith (and his friend TJ) who biked the 150 mile route in 1 day (they finished 4 AM Sunday). A number of folks hoped to finish this route in a day and therefore didn't bring any camping gear––several had to scratch. Not these two, though! While I didn’t get to bike with these speedy guys, their effort was epic.

And ~4 PM Friday, Bryan completed the 500 mile route! It rained every day, but he persevered through the weather, terrain, and multiple mechanical issues. Of course, on Saturday when no one was riding anymore, it was a full-sun, bluebird day. So it goes.

Gear list below!