In the nick o’ time
My August Century took place with only four hours to spare. I finished it at 8pm Thursday, August 31st–a couple minutes after nightfall. It was a struggle to get this one under my belt. Two weeks ago I was going to convert a 60 mile group ride into the century, but the heavy rain afterwards nixed that idea. Then I caught a cold at the end of last week, I suspect it had been percolating since Wednesday the week before. So, this past weekend was out for any worthwhile riding. This week’s Wednesday night group ride went surprisingly well in spite of it being the day after the worst of my cold.
So here it was yesterday, Thursday, I’m sitting at work thinking “I’ve got all my work caught up, it’s a beautiful day, last night’s ride went better than expected… let’s take the afternoon off and try to squeeze the big ride into the last day!”
I got started an hour later than I wanted… One last project at work (for the president, no less) had to trump my planned departure. Out the door at 1:30pm, drop the car at Steph’s office so she can get home, change, then on the road a few minutes before 2pm. Not quite as early as I’d have liked but I thought I could still do it. Providing, of course, I was feeling strong, let alone well enough.
Where to go, where to go? Well, first stop needed to be home to swap my street shorts for some cycling shorts. I had everything except those in the car. Odd that those were missing.
Not four miles in, on Daniels Rd, some FOP (the last two letters stand for Old Person, I’ll let you guess what the first letter stands for) steering a Florida cruiser pulls out in front of me and nearly runs me off the road. I let loose with a tirade and he slowly pulls off the road (again blocking me). I pull around on his left, yelling at him to watch where he’s going and what was he doing nearly hitting me. He gummed a “Wha’ you… ” … yeah, I couldn’t really make out what he was saying. I’m grumbling about the incident when I realize now I’m in front of him and he’s coming up from behind. Probably not a good situation to be in. Note to self: don’t pass bad drivers in the future; keep them in front of you. Luckily he just drives by and makes the traffic light before it changes and stops me.
Anyway, headed home, changed shorts, grapped a PowerBar and some water top-offs, patted Jenny on the head, and zoomed back out the door.
I hopped on the road and decided to follow the Club Century course from Ballard Rd. This seemed pretty good since it was mostly south east from my house and the wind was from the north. Feeling pretty strong initially, I kept a good 18-19 pace for the first half. At one point there are two stretches of fresh pavement. I’m talking FRESH! They must have been paved scant hours before I came through. The tarmac was grabbing my wheels and sticking to the rubber. I repeatedly had to clean the wheels with a carefully placed cycling glove palm for fear of a puncture. This was a section of Rowley Rd and Nelson Ave Extension just south of Saratoga.
The mid-point of the ride involved a stop at a spring in Spa park to refill my water bottles, then call Steph to let her know I was feeling good and would continue until sundown.
From there I wasn’t sure how the revised route of the club century started–I had ridden the 2nd half of the century so far and was now going to finish with the 1st half. I guessed it headed out Geyser road by Serotta like it had before, but there were no markings on the road. I don’t think I was even close, but it didn’t matter, I knew I could just head northwest then circle back on Middle Grove. Luckily, even without my GPS, I hit upon the right combination of roads (my memory for roads seems to dwindle more and more as I get older) and made my way to the westernmost point of Middle Grove. Geyser to Rock City Falls, to Rt 29 (where there is a looong slow uphill), then right onto Rt 21 (Middle Grove). The west end of Middle Grove is ripe for repaving, let me tell you. Thankfully, it’s all downhill.
A stop at the Stewarts at the base of Lake Desolation to grab my favorite energy boosting combo, a Red Bull and Snickers. With that little jolt, another PowerBar in the back pocket and about 2 hours of daylight left, I started the home stretch. Middle Grove to Daniels road (Daniels again!), north on Rt 9 to exit 17 for about 8-9 miles. East on 197, through the tire-eating stretch of road of years’ past (picture Charlie Brown and his kite eating tree nemesis, only with John and me and bikes and a malicious road), and south on West River Road . At the top of 197 I spied a hot air balloon wafting just east of me over the river.
On WRR, I had a gentle tailwind and managed to keep a good 21 mph pace with about 14 miles to go. That balloon kept getting closer and closer and I realized it was going to pass over me and land nearby. Two support cars drove past me. I knew they were support cars with the “www.majesticballoonflights.com” stickers in their rear windows and the tell-tale cackle of walky-talkies. I never quite saw the balloon land. Had I not been under such a time constraint, I would have followed the cars and checked out the dismantling of the balloon, but I knew I was going to make it home just as it got dark.
The legs really held up. Only once or twice after a climb did the quads feel the numbing burn of lactic acid. The rest of the time, they felt loose and ready for work. The ADK 540 is two weeks away and should be a great ride for me. Sub eight hours is the goal–last year I came in at 9:05 and a broken man. This year, I know what to expect and can better prepare.
Things I saw:
- 4 roadies (one without a helmet, and one who never caught me on that long ascent up Rt 29).
- 6 deer and 2 fawns (in three separate groups).
- 1 hot air balloon.
- Even though it was windy, the high altitudes seemed not so. The airplane contrails criss-crossed and lingered for a long time.
Big annoyances:
- FOP in a big car nearly running me off the road.
- One yahoo (more about those in another post).
- Creaking seatpost (now I think it’s the seatpost, not the bottom bracket)
- Snot. Gallons of it. A flunky detective could track my entire route simply by following the trail of snot I left on the road. Had to be expected, I suppose, given my recovery from the cold.
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