26 August 2013

Wait...what?

So Saturday morning, Ford, Il Prof, and I rolled out EARLY, and headed to Clinton for the 2013 Flight of the Dove.  You know, a nice, friendly metric with 400+ of our closest friends, that benefits the Hospice of Laurens County.

Got there in plenty of time.  Kitted up, found a good spot to get comfy for the start, and BOOM!!  It was on like Donkey Kong.

We rolled out onto the main road at a normal start-of-ride pace...then all hell broke loose.  I was talked to Aaron and Roxy, glanced up the road, and there was a 500m gap to the front already.  WTF man?  3 minutes into the ride, I'm burning matches @ 50kmh to bridge to the front.  Super...
I got there, and it was go time.  The next 35-40 minutes was faster than ANY road/circuit race I'd ever been in.  The first 40 minutes passed at an average of 42kmh.  That's 26.5mph in old money.  What?
I began to question a few things.  Sure, I was handling the pace fine at mile 15, but what would mile 55 be like?  And as Ford and I discussed, what, exactly, was the point?  Sure, you go to these rides to go hard, and break out a good avg. pace, but I never saw the bucolic Laurens County countryside for the time I was in the front

I called it, sat up just before the tire eating section of the ride, and pedaled alone for a few minutes.   I crested a rise after about 5 minutes alone, and saw Ford coming back towards me.  He was just shaking his head.  Almost at the same moment, we both said, aloud, "What the fuck...?"
We soft-pedaled for a while, waiting on womens' State champ Sam (she's strong like Bull), and the three of us rode together for a solid 20 minutes before the second group caught us.
From there, we had a good group, save for the guy in the yellow jersey, who made efforts to kill the entire group with every pedal stroke.  And by "kill", I do not mean break our legs, or drop us.  He was literally homicidal on the bike.  My six year old holds a tighter line.
The second group stayed together for pretty much the remainder of the ride, and it was pretty good.
Cracks began to show, with pretty much everyone, around mile 55.  I cracked like a Lladro figurine at mile 58.  Not a bonk, but the speed went away pretty quickly.  40kmh became 35kmh, and then 32kmh.  And that was all the engine room had left.
I did dig a bit when I saw my time, and the fact I only had 2 miles left.  It hurt...
Finish time was 2:49 for the 100km, which comes out to 35.4kmh, or dead on 22mph.  I'll take that on a windy, hillier than anyone expected loop.

It's a great ride.  Well organized, tons of outstanding/friendly volunteers, great terrain, and a good cause.  I'll go back!

Sunday, we met for the normal ride, and it became clear pretty quickly that anything resembling speed was not on the menu.  We all rode out together, and once Timmy and Ford split off to head home early, the rest of the group also split.  The front rode away, while Il Prof, Charlie and I rode together.
It was all I wanted/needed.
85km rolled under wheels on a borderline perfect SC Sunday.

See?  I told you!

The other two of the three amigos...

Twas a good weekend of riding...

Oh Peter....

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Now down the stairs...no big deal. UP can be done, but might lead to a broken bone of some sort...  ( the video seems not to be cooperating.  Here's the LINK)

And the photo below is why hipsters shouldn't have money...

A Merckx Max w/Belge National Champ paint...and a complete travesty of parts, and set up...
Son, I am disappoint...

And with that, I am done...
Gonna be a lazy Monday around here...hopefully...unless someone wants to go do this...








3 comments:

Justin said...

Going to buy some 2 liter soda now.

MM said...

Seriously...we NEED to do this at some point in the near future!

Junk said...

Gotta put the Mentos in first.