Yes, it's finally here, officially. Riding season is upon us!
I was chomping on the bit all day, excited over the prospect of hitting the road with the gang again, doing the ride, then enjoying the Wendy's afterward. If only the weather wouldn't get in the way!
There wasn't anything to worry about - the weather held fine, in fact even breaking completely into azure blue skies and perfectly cool middle-60 temperatures. Other than a slightly annoying NE breeze, we couldn't have asked for a better opening night.
I wanted to get 50 miles tonight. The weather is iffy the rest of the week, and if I was able to get 50 tonight, it would be added to the 50 I already have this week. That would make sneaking in a couple of shorter rides between rain events much easier.
I got to the church and on the bike by 5. That gave me 45 minutes to ride 13 miles. Why 13? Because the measured distance of the ride from Allen's church was 37 miles. Not that we'd actually done that yet - but we had figured it up based on the parts we did ride. I was confident in the prediction, so I went with it.
The route was unusual - I went down 60 east toward Salem. The reason was simple - that road runs southeast, parallel to our 337 time trial course. I figured it would give me a good idea of how rough the wind might be. It turned out to be a non-factor as far as I was concerned. Sure, 60 is more shielded by trees than 337, but I didn't think it would be all that strong a wind either way.
Results.
Rolling back to the church I was greeted by John T., Allen, Jimmy, Roy, Scott, and ultimately James. James. He's the wild card this season. As a Cat 3 rider, he definitely qualifies as the big dog. If it came down to a throw down, he'd be the one to watch.
We rolled out easily down 337. Scott seemed to be doing well for his first ride. Conversation was easy, and the usual discussion of what we would do ensued. Jimmy seemed determined to do a light pace line, and since there was no opposition to the proposal, it was accepted as the plan.
John and Roy broke away from the main group, and I decided to ride up and warn them about the big dog on the course (not James). Thankfully the dog wasn't out, and we made the county line without incident. After a couple of minutes the others joined us. This was when plans changed.
James had arrived riding his new P5 outdoors for the first time. It really is a beautiful thing to behold. Everything about it screams speed. Naturally James wanted to test that speed, and a pace line of 22 mph wasn't going to do it. The talk began to suggest he would give us a head start and then catch us. We discussed how long he would have to wait to be able to catch us at the last second.
Things were beginning to get messy. I had suggested Scott stay on the back for the entire ride; Jimmy wanted him to begin rotating through the line right away. I felt really uncomfortable with this, but didn't want to argue the point. Another part of me screamed if someone else was willing to go hard, so should I. I didn't want to interfere with his ride, but I sure wanted to see how I would compare.
James made it easy. Calling me his "Minute Man", he planned to give me a one-minute head start. It made sense. He was trying for 26 mph average, I was hoping for 24. We were giving 5 minutes total to the others, (I gave 4, James 5), and with luck we'd all finish together. Though I'd always rather chase, being chased would give me a great incentive to ride through pain. I made up my mind to do my best.
The Jimmy group took off. Right away, Scott was in trouble. It's hard to get that front tire up there snug in a line when you have the sure knowledge if you screw it up you're going to wreck. He soon fell off the pack. Roy, a much stronger rider this year, dropped back to try to pull him back in. As valiant as the effort was, it was in vain. Roy was forced to bridge the gap alone, a monster feat, and rejoined the pack. Scott was on his own.
I blasted up the Amish stretch, hitting almost 28 mph in places. I didn't dream I might hold off James for the entire ride. My goal was to hold him off as long as possible until the inevitable. So I cranked it harder and harder. The quads burned, my breath exploded from my chest, and still I went on. Into Bromer the wind was more noticeable, but once turned NW again, the difficulty subsided, and I accelerated into the first hill. Still no James. Over the hill, through the rollers and down the staircase, I kept the pressure on. Still no James. Past the Pumpkin Center turn, angle north, and I thought I heard James talking to me. A quick check of my shadow to the left revealed no James. I was hearing things.
John took a long pull. When he was done, he handed to Roy for Lost River. What a pal! They ground it out, topped, then were in the final stages of the ride. Other than Scott, no one had been dropped. Even Jimmy, for all his fears, was still in the mix. It wouldn't be long now... who would win the first sprint?
The rotations continued, and Jimmy had the bad luck to wind up on the last pull before the sprint. The path was now laid for the most experienced opportunist remaining - John. With Jimmy giving it all he had, it was an easy few pumps of the pedal to overtake and pull away from Jimmy in the stretch. Victory #1 goes to John.
I dropped down into Lost River Valley and tore across the plain. I hit Lost River, not with the intention of holding high speed, but hitting it with some momentum. I would use that to get as high up as I could before the real work began. Over the top, I was ready to get back up to speed. I was soon back up to nearly 28 mph as the rollers began.
Only one hill remained, and still James hadn't caught me. I toyed with the idea of looking back, but you should never do that. He would either catch me or he wouldn't, but I wasn't going to give him psychological energy by appearing weak. Maintaining focus straight ahead, I pushed forward.
The last stretch wasn't especially fast, but it did maintain that 26-28 mph average I toyed with for most of the ride. In the end, James didn't catch me; in fact, the gap had remained right at the minute for the ride.
I didn't get an official watch on the ride, but my watch said 7:04 when I started the trial and was 1:27 when I finished. That's 23 minutes. James had the same time as it turned out. Needless to say I was very, very happy about that ride. I'd hoped to ride 24 mph, but smashed that time.
I hold no illusions; James is the faster rider. That I could compare favorably to him in any way is pretty exciting to me. I'm also in a bit better shape than I thought I was.
Results.
We all went to Wendy's afterward, and for once I wasn't the recipient of the "Worst Service" award. That honor went to Scott, who finally sat down long after John finished his meal.
We discussed shirts. Check out the design.
The two big debates revolved around being respectful and what color shirts to order. We also wrestled with what wording should go on the banner below.
Have a suggestion? Forward them to me!
I was chomping on the bit all day, excited over the prospect of hitting the road with the gang again, doing the ride, then enjoying the Wendy's afterward. If only the weather wouldn't get in the way!
There wasn't anything to worry about - the weather held fine, in fact even breaking completely into azure blue skies and perfectly cool middle-60 temperatures. Other than a slightly annoying NE breeze, we couldn't have asked for a better opening night.
I wanted to get 50 miles tonight. The weather is iffy the rest of the week, and if I was able to get 50 tonight, it would be added to the 50 I already have this week. That would make sneaking in a couple of shorter rides between rain events much easier.
I got to the church and on the bike by 5. That gave me 45 minutes to ride 13 miles. Why 13? Because the measured distance of the ride from Allen's church was 37 miles. Not that we'd actually done that yet - but we had figured it up based on the parts we did ride. I was confident in the prediction, so I went with it.
The route was unusual - I went down 60 east toward Salem. The reason was simple - that road runs southeast, parallel to our 337 time trial course. I figured it would give me a good idea of how rough the wind might be. It turned out to be a non-factor as far as I was concerned. Sure, 60 is more shielded by trees than 337, but I didn't think it would be all that strong a wind either way.
Results.
Rolling back to the church I was greeted by John T., Allen, Jimmy, Roy, Scott, and ultimately James. James. He's the wild card this season. As a Cat 3 rider, he definitely qualifies as the big dog. If it came down to a throw down, he'd be the one to watch.
We rolled out easily down 337. Scott seemed to be doing well for his first ride. Conversation was easy, and the usual discussion of what we would do ensued. Jimmy seemed determined to do a light pace line, and since there was no opposition to the proposal, it was accepted as the plan.
John and Roy broke away from the main group, and I decided to ride up and warn them about the big dog on the course (not James). Thankfully the dog wasn't out, and we made the county line without incident. After a couple of minutes the others joined us. This was when plans changed.
James had arrived riding his new P5 outdoors for the first time. It really is a beautiful thing to behold. Everything about it screams speed. Naturally James wanted to test that speed, and a pace line of 22 mph wasn't going to do it. The talk began to suggest he would give us a head start and then catch us. We discussed how long he would have to wait to be able to catch us at the last second.
Things were beginning to get messy. I had suggested Scott stay on the back for the entire ride; Jimmy wanted him to begin rotating through the line right away. I felt really uncomfortable with this, but didn't want to argue the point. Another part of me screamed if someone else was willing to go hard, so should I. I didn't want to interfere with his ride, but I sure wanted to see how I would compare.
James made it easy. Calling me his "Minute Man", he planned to give me a one-minute head start. It made sense. He was trying for 26 mph average, I was hoping for 24. We were giving 5 minutes total to the others, (I gave 4, James 5), and with luck we'd all finish together. Though I'd always rather chase, being chased would give me a great incentive to ride through pain. I made up my mind to do my best.
The Jimmy group took off. Right away, Scott was in trouble. It's hard to get that front tire up there snug in a line when you have the sure knowledge if you screw it up you're going to wreck. He soon fell off the pack. Roy, a much stronger rider this year, dropped back to try to pull him back in. As valiant as the effort was, it was in vain. Roy was forced to bridge the gap alone, a monster feat, and rejoined the pack. Scott was on his own.
I blasted up the Amish stretch, hitting almost 28 mph in places. I didn't dream I might hold off James for the entire ride. My goal was to hold him off as long as possible until the inevitable. So I cranked it harder and harder. The quads burned, my breath exploded from my chest, and still I went on. Into Bromer the wind was more noticeable, but once turned NW again, the difficulty subsided, and I accelerated into the first hill. Still no James. Over the hill, through the rollers and down the staircase, I kept the pressure on. Still no James. Past the Pumpkin Center turn, angle north, and I thought I heard James talking to me. A quick check of my shadow to the left revealed no James. I was hearing things.
John took a long pull. When he was done, he handed to Roy for Lost River. What a pal! They ground it out, topped, then were in the final stages of the ride. Other than Scott, no one had been dropped. Even Jimmy, for all his fears, was still in the mix. It wouldn't be long now... who would win the first sprint?
The rotations continued, and Jimmy had the bad luck to wind up on the last pull before the sprint. The path was now laid for the most experienced opportunist remaining - John. With Jimmy giving it all he had, it was an easy few pumps of the pedal to overtake and pull away from Jimmy in the stretch. Victory #1 goes to John.
I dropped down into Lost River Valley and tore across the plain. I hit Lost River, not with the intention of holding high speed, but hitting it with some momentum. I would use that to get as high up as I could before the real work began. Over the top, I was ready to get back up to speed. I was soon back up to nearly 28 mph as the rollers began.
Only one hill remained, and still James hadn't caught me. I toyed with the idea of looking back, but you should never do that. He would either catch me or he wouldn't, but I wasn't going to give him psychological energy by appearing weak. Maintaining focus straight ahead, I pushed forward.
The last stretch wasn't especially fast, but it did maintain that 26-28 mph average I toyed with for most of the ride. In the end, James didn't catch me; in fact, the gap had remained right at the minute for the ride.
I didn't get an official watch on the ride, but my watch said 7:04 when I started the trial and was 1:27 when I finished. That's 23 minutes. James had the same time as it turned out. Needless to say I was very, very happy about that ride. I'd hoped to ride 24 mph, but smashed that time.
I hold no illusions; James is the faster rider. That I could compare favorably to him in any way is pretty exciting to me. I'm also in a bit better shape than I thought I was.
Results.
We all went to Wendy's afterward, and for once I wasn't the recipient of the "Worst Service" award. That honor went to Scott, who finally sat down long after John finished his meal.
We discussed shirts. Check out the design.The two big debates revolved around being respectful and what color shirts to order. We also wrestled with what wording should go on the banner below.
Have a suggestion? Forward them to me!
ACC - Amish Country Cyclists White jersey
ReplyDeleteThose are my votes.