As promised- Victor's Blog:
The truly amazing part of doing our first successful 1200k with Kate was just how ordinary it felt. It was
physically challenging, no doubt, but that was expected. We had our share of
rain, but none of it too hard or lasting for days. There were times when the
sun was hot and the air humid, but at no point was it an intolerable steaming
sauna. A few dogs chased us while we were passing by but did so almost
playfully, as if to give us a taste of adventure instead of being a danger. PA
drivers were almost universally courteous, a welcome change from typical
Westchester self-absorbed, cell-phone-talking, hurrying-to-the-next-appointment
driver. Even the mechanicals that materialized on the ride ended up being of
non-threatening variety. I could feel the long days in the saddle on my tush but only a few days after the ride was done my butt was no longer
sore! I found myself wondering about doing another 1200 next year, an
unthinkable notion just a week ago.
The preparations started long
before the ride itself, of course. Having failed the ride 4 years ago while
riding a tandem, we vowed to find a more efficient way to cycle long distances.
For Kate, the solution was to convert her older race bike, a Fuji SL1. It is an
efficient, quick handling race machine. Kate likes a responsive bike, something
she can steer with her thoughts, and Fuji certainly delivers. For me, a trusty
Specialized Roubaix, already a bike set for longer rides, was converted to
rando duty. I am a little obsessive about what goes on our bikes, so I spent
quite a bit of time researching and thinking about making the bikes more
suitable for the task. In the end, our steeds didn't look that much different
from their original incarnation. Both sported compact cranks, 12-36 rear
cassettes for those steep PA kicker hills, aero bars for comfort and speed on
the flats and fairly upright riding positions. We both had generator hubs.
Mine was the older SON we used 4 years ago
for the tandem, while Kate got herself a nice, light SONdelux version. Rear
wheels were of the heavy duty touring kind. After suffering a wheel failure on
the PA 600k, I was not about to take any chances! We both had large rear bags
where we stored almost everything and small front bags similar to
this
one for on the bike food and such.
In a contrast with prevailing
rando doctrine, we decided on minimal (for me) or no (for Kate) fenders. I
carried both cycling shoes and Keen cycling sandals and ended up using both but
could really do with just the sandals, like Kate. The Keens are comfortable,
drain very well and the materials are waterproof (the sandals themselves are
not, of course). Their only real downside is weight; they are quite a bit
heavier than regular shoes. With no need
to keep the water off the shoes, the only weather protection we carried were
sleeveless rain vests with mesh backs, which we hardly used.
The days before the ride were
full of preparations. I mapped out the route for our GPS devices, based off the
official cue sheets. Someone else had done the same thing and the links to the
routes were posted on Tom's message board, but just downloading those didn't
feel right. I had to do it for myself. I often imagine what the ride would be
like while mapping it out. When the ride covers new ground, it rarely turns out
to be as expected, but I find that it still helps to visualize riding. Kate
made custom reflective sash belts for us. They started as
Amphipod Xinglets,
with the belts adjusted so that they would fit just right. Then Kate got rid of
the adjusters and sewed it all together, making the belts much more compact to
fit in our bags.
A crucial part of the
preparations was the schedule that I made for each day. Based on our previous
rides, I estimated the speeds for each leg of the ride, taking into account the
fatigue (we were going to slow down each day) and elevation change (hillier
sections would take longer to ride). Using those speeds, I estimated the
arrival time for each control. Then I budgeted 15 minutes for each stop and
voila, there was a schedule for every day of riding. Each day's schedule was
printed and laminated separately on a small card I could carry in my front bag
and take out while riding to consult and plan our stops. Having a schedule was
a great way to keep things in check and plan ahead, even if we didn't stick to
the schedule all the time.
The adventure started right after
an uneventful day at work. I'm lucky to be able to work remotely 2-3 days a
week, so I could spend the morning in front of the computer while thinking
about what else I forgot to pack in the back of my mind. Kate is a teacher and
off in the summer, so preparations had gone smoothly. By the afternoon, the car
was packed and we headed out just before the traffic started building up.
After a carbo-loading dinner at a
local diner, we arrived to the hotel where we were greeted by a friendly group
of volunteers checking in both riders and bikes. Frame mounted lights? Check.
Spare headlight? Check. Reflective gear? Check. We got our tracking devices
attached to the bikes and spent the rest of the evening socializing with the
arriving riders and volunteers. Kate made good use of the hotel pool and hot
tub. She also picked a nice wool jersey for the first day's ride. Tom had a
sample one that fit her just right. We retired to our room at around 9pm to get
enough sleep for the 3am wake up call next morning. Spending time with other
randos was very relaxing and sleep came easily.
The 3am alarm came and we packed
our bags quickly. Everything was prepared from the day before leaving nothing
to think about, a good thing this early in the morning. The hotel put out the
breakfast early so we got to enjoy scrambled eggs and hot Belgian waffles
before the ride. Good food = good mood! Finally, everyone gathered outside to
admire each other's bikes (that was the idea, right?). I noticed quite a few
“standard”
rando bikes, outfitted with fenders, mud flaps and front bags. There were a
few regular road bikes, including a beautiful Merlin Extralight with some
exquisite metal work. Much to my surprise, there was a Cervelo time trial bike,
complete with aero wheels and aero bar mounted hydration system. Some very nice
carbon race bikes made appearance as well, including another Specialized Roubaix
(the top end S-Works variety) and a gorgeous Willier Cento.
Before we knew it the time was
3:56 and Tom was done with the safety speech, so I asked if there was a penalty
for a 3 minute early start (there was none). Just as we started rolling, we
realized that most of the riders were facing the wrong way but after few
seconds of confusion, everyone was rolling into the night. It had begun!
The entire group rolled together
for the first few miles. Kate and I would ride moderately on the early climbs
while others would pass us. Then we
would catch up on flats and descents. I was getting annoyed by having to
navigate around people while coasting and having to use my brakes. Kate reprimanded me for “weaving in and
out.” Hey, it's a lot safer than
navigating in a 50+ strong group of Cat 5 racers with adrenaline and
testosterone pumping in their blood! In any case, we got to a flat stretch
soon, and the group split up. Our
familiar rhythm is to ride with a steady effort- easy on the hills and fast on
the flats, where it takes little effort to get to speed and Kate stays tight on
my wheel. Few people are able to adapt
to this, or care to, so we usually ride without company. This brevet was to be different.
The first control came quickly.
I'm sure we were out in less than 15 minutes but some folks were lightning
fast, arriving a couple of minutes behind us and leaving before us, too! That's
some efficiency. But we had The Plan, so as much as it made me feel like we
should move faster, I really had nothing to complain about. Right after the
control, the first notable climb started. It was foggy at the top, and we took
it easy going downhill on the other side, although it was full bright morning
by then. At that point, Kate and I were pretty much on our own. We enjoyed the
scenic rolling stretch along the Blue Mountain ridge, a staple of Tom's rides.
Fox Gap is a long climb but there are several less steep sections in the
middle. Kate and I dropped into our winch gears- 34 on the front/36 on the
back, and took our time going up. We
looked for, and found, the spot where our chain broke on the tandem in 2009 and
I used primitive tools (rocks) to fix it. At the top, we found the “Tom's worst
kept secret” secret control, manned by Steve. Cards signed, we cautiously headed
downhill, as it was still foggy at that elevation.
Arriving at the town by Delaware
River, we were “greeted” by a grumpy woman walking her dog and yelling at us,
“Walk those bikes across the bridge!” and “don't ride on MY sidewalk!” I had to
keep my tongue in check. I realized that
ignoring her was probably going to rub her worse than almost anything that I
could say. I'm sure Dr. Freud would have a few things to say about the source
of this woman's ill temper.
After the river crossing, we
headed into New Jersey. Remembering the terrain on the previous rides, I was
mentally prepared for a nasty climb coming up just around the corner. I'm not so detail oriented as to print the profile for each section. Much to my surprise,
the climb never came and the road was following a gentle rise along the creek
and towards the next control.
The control was a bakery, which
was unfortunately running low on rider friendly food. I grabbed the last
two pieces of banana nut bread, one for now, one for later. We got some coffee and pastries to chew on
and were out of the control within our planned time. At this point, we were
almost half an hour ahead of The Plan, all while riding conservatively.
Heading into the Delaware Water
Gap area, we started to catch up to some riders. We were heading north, and had
a steady if not strong breeze from the south. The longest/hardest day was
starting with a tailwind! There were also a few hills, and a 50 mph descent to
the park itself. Quite exhilarating! We got to the Old Mine Road and found the
particularly nasty section of it partially fixed, meaning that it had mere
incessant bumps instead of sinkholes capable of swallowing a Toyota Prius
whole. After that descent, we took full advantage of tailwind, with me getting
on the aero bars and using rollers to carry us over almost to the top of the
next one. For the next 20 or so miles, we were having fun.
On the last 10 mile stretch
before Port Jervis, both Kate and I felt a bit lethargic. Rule #1 to the rescue
– if you feel like crap, eat something. I still had a slice of banana bread in
my pocket, which we shared while riding. Things started looking up immediately,
and other than a busy section of Route 6 in Port Jervis itself, it was a scenic
and pleasant ride again. We passed the “scene of the crime” where my rear wheel
collapsed spectacularly on the PA 600k ride, ending my hopes of finishing the
PA randonneur series. No wheel trouble this time, I hoped.
The diner stop came quickly, and
this was the first time I mentioned to Kate that, according to my schedule, we
were looking at a daytime finish. We ride a lot slower while it's dark out, and
riding in the dark while tired carries more risk, so we would avoid it if
possible. I also mentioned that the next section was all uphill. Kate smiled
and said that since we're making such a good progress, she was planning to take
it a bit easier. That's not exactly what I had in mind, but we were ahead of
schedule. So we headed out towards Hawk's Nest.
There were a few short hills, and
a longer climb to the Hawk's Nest itself. But the real climb started when we
turned right and away from the Delaware river. After a while, Kate mumbled
something about, “it really IS all uphill.” The sky looked unsettled at this
point, and I was getting worried about the forecasted afternoon thunderstorms.
While at the next control, I saw the strong thunderstorms warning on the TV and
checked on the radar map. It looked that if we were heading northwest (as we
were), we'd miss it. So I ate some food, made sure Kate ate something, and had
us rolling within 15 minutes again, heading back down to the Delaware River and
familiar grounds from the PA brevet series rides.
Towpath Rd was as bumpy as
expected and Route 6 as busy as I remembered it. The hub (I think) on my rear wheel
started to make some funny noises. I stopped a few times to tighten it down
which would stop the noise for a little while but then it would continue again.
Not good. I was starting to fear the repeat of PA 600k that we had to abandon
because of rear wheel failure. Finally, on the third stop I checked the spokes
(ok), checked for the sideways play in the wheel (ok) and hub play (ok). I
figured that something may have gotten in and makes the noise, and there was
not a thing I could do about it, and hopefully the hub would hold out. The
wheel was built by a very experienced wheel builder, using high quality
components, so I hoped for the best.
The day was getting warm and
humid, and by the time we reached Lake Wallenpaupack, we were almost out of
liquids, calling for a brief stop at a gas station there. For the next 10
miles, we had to contend with unpleasant rush hour traffic. Middle Creek Rd was
a big relief and marked a return to the usual quiet roads Tom's rides are
famous for. Before long, we were at the bottom of the Salem Rd climb, the “high
point” of the day. We climbed at our own pace, passed the radio towers and then
plunged into the descent on the other side, whee! I let it rip while Kate
settled into her usual more conservative rhythm. As I was waiting at the turn,
a car approached, with Mike Wali (I think) waving a water bottle out the
window. Mike had rescued it after Kate left at the diner and was trying to
return it to her. Thanks, Mike! A minute later, we were rolling into the
Dunkin' Donuts in the middle of Carbondale. We took a bit longer, as
Kate's feet were hurting. The extra time
was well spent ingesting a couple of sugar bombs known in "dunkinspeak" as
Coolattas. That perked us right up yet again.
It was late afternoon as we started the last leg of the day's journey.
I remember this leg from 4 years
ago as a painful slog in the darkness, the world reduced to a small patch of
light in front of me, one steep hill after another. This time, the hills were
still there, but the sheer beauty of the route was striking. The first (and
hilliest) 25 miles of this leg were by far the prettiest, with low sun painting
hay fields warm orange, deep shadows from the remote hills providing a stark
contrast, and a blue sky mixed in with a variety of clouds right above it all.
We missed so much last time! Still, it was a hard ride. I recall telling Kate,
“Do you know the name of this road we're on? It's called Fair Hill Road but I
don't see anything fair about hills this steep, this late in the day!” Soon, the
sun began to set and although there was still plenty of light, as we approached
US-11, a busy road, we turned the lights on as a precaution. From here on, it
was a fast, mostly downhill, ride into the first overnight control.
We rolled into the hotel in the
twilight, just as the streetlights came on, and were greeted by Dan, Mike and
Paul. We were surprised when Paul took
our picture and told us we were the first finishers of the day! Four years ago, we had been some of the last.
Before long, our cards were signed, SPOT trackers checked and we were
shepherded into the common room where hot lasagna and other foods were waiting.
What a service! It makes such a difference to arrive to the control at the end
of a long day in the saddle and not have to worry about... anything,
really! As planned, Kate grabbed
something quick and went to the room to shower.
Later she would come eat while I showered.
While eating the dinner, I made
an assessment of the day. The Plan called for our arrival at about 9:30pm. We
made it about an hour earlier, and our riding speed appeared to be quite a bit
faster than projected, thanks to the tailwind from the south that pushed us
along most of the day. Both Kate and I were tired, but we never went into the
red, meaning better recovery for tomorrow. Kate had time to use her
Compex muscle stimulator
while I was simply happy for more sleep than planned. The next day's plan
called for earlier arrival to the overnight meaning we could relax more at the
stops and still arrive during the daylight. Kate was worried about her shifters
giving out completely.
Once they go, they go and there is nothing to do about it. The spring was gone on the
right shifter and she had to pull it back each time to shift.
She wrapped some bandages around her fingers to prevent chafing. Doing this ride with only front gears was not
what she had in mind.
We briefly
discussed the possibility of starting a little later, at 5am, but eventually
agreed to start at 4am, according to The Plan, and have a better cushion for
the unforeseen situations.
With that
comforting thought, I went to sleep.
The morning was dark and the
roads were wet, although it wasn't raining anymore. We got some breakfast,
packed up, donned night gear, and headed off into the darkness. The course
called for a long flat stretch out of the control, so I had planned we would
make good time. But with the road
glistening from the rain, we could not see very well, and slowed down quite a
bit. Kate fell into a gloomy mood, matching the weather, and I was no better.
We rode through Binghampton without saying much to one another. Kate did not want to stay on my wheel
getting rain and dirt in her face, even with the fender. I had not put on my rain vest, so I was cold. After such a great day yesterday, we were
falling way behind The Plan. Kate said she wanted to adjust her saddle a bit
and I wanted to put on my vest, so we agreed to stop at the next gas station,
which thankfully was less than a mile down the road. The sky started to
brighten up, but the rain was still coming down pretty hard. We were dripping
wet as we came into the gas station, where I found some microwaved breakfast
sandwiches and coffee and put on my rain vest. It probably took us 15 minutes
but we felt much better. We set out just as a group of riders was passing by,
so we rode with them for a while.
At the next control the rain let
off and more food lifted our mood. Just as Kate and I were ready to roll out,
we noticed that Peter was getting ready to leave, so the three of us continued
to ride together for the rest of the day. I was getting nervous about us
finishing in the daylight, as we were a full half an hour behind The Plan at
this early point, and the wind was not being helpful like it was the day
before.
We came upon a section of closed
road where we had to carry the bikes over a barrier. I'm not sure how long the
road was closed, but the vines were already spreading over the pavement in
places, giving the place a somewhat post-apocalyptic look. The sky was starting
to clear up, the river on the right looked beautiful, and the pavement dried
enough not to whip up the water as it had earlier. Patches of fog were
appearing here and there, rising from the wet ground. The quiet roads were
taking us through farms now, a far cry from the urban landscape we rolled
through in the morning.
This was the section where the
most dramatic dog chase of the entire ride happened. There were two
middle-sized farm dogs sitting outside who noticed us and gave chase. It was an
uphill, not much but enough to stop us from just sprinting away. One of the
dogs gave up quickly but another kept going, switching from one side of the
road to another, barking and following us. I yelled at them in Russian and Peter yelled in German, while Kate cussed in good 'ole English. Looking back, the dog was probably
playing as it never really came close, but it sure felt like a full-blown dog
sprint at the time. After 30 seconds or so, the pooch gave up and strolled back
to the farm it came from. We kept an eye for dogs from then on.
We arrived to Canton, still close
to half an hour behind The Plan but at least we were not losing time any more.
After a few minutes inside, Kate remarked, “This looks like the last control on
the second day of the ride 4 years ago.” She was right! I recall sitting at gas
station, utterly exhausted, hoping that someone would steal the tandem and we
wouldn't have to ride in the cold and dark any longer. The same place but 4 years
ago... we had arrived about 6pm but we spent too long at the gas station,
huddled inside, with every piece of clothing we had on us, trying to get warm
and eat something that would help us get going. I told Kate how it was 80 something
miles to go.
She was hopeful we would
get some sleep, but it turned into a 10 hour, bitterly cold death march to a
DNF Fast-forward 4 years: thanks to
the weather (75 instead of 35 degrees), Tom's reworking the route, and better
preparation on our part, the day was still new instead of fading and things
were looking very good. There was still a way to go, so I put the nostalgia
aside, got the slave driver mask on and we were rolling again soon.
Going over the next section, Kate
and I were pointing out the memorable places from the last ride. “Hey, we
stopped there for a hug break! Hey, that's where you were trying to mace those
two dogs that came after us in the dark! Hey, that's a particularly nasty
downhill where I had to slow down for a turn and then we had to grind all the
way up in our lowest gear!” Actually, I think there were a whole lot of those
last ones... We grew to lovingly call them “Tom's rollers.” You see, a typical
“Tom's roller” consists of a half a mile uphill at 6% or more and a screaming
half a mile downhill on the other side. Ideally, there would be a stop sign or
a nasty turn at the bottom to rob you off all the momentum you gained on the
downhill. Lather, rinse, and repeat. I remembered what torture this section was
on the tandem in the dark and cold. On the singles, it was merely a hard ride
and we had some beautiful scenery to keep us distracted. Kate, Peter and I had
fun chasing each other down the hills.
Finally, a downhill didn't end with an uphill and we rolled through a
small village of Liberty. Last time we rode through the village, it was
completely dark, with only a few lights in the windows to show that people
inhabited the place. This time it was a post card picturesque small
Pennsylvania village. What a difference the daylight can make!
Finally, there was our reward, a
20-mile downhill (well, mostly) through the Pine Creek State Park. Unlike four
years ago, we got to see and enjoy the cornfields, the marshes, quiet creeks, and fog rising from the mountains. The only distraction was some light rain.
Thankfully Kate waited until the bottom of a hill, and a brief break in the
rain, to get a flat. Having gotten 5 flats on the PA 300k ride, I was quite
well trained in the art of roadside flat repair, and we were rolling again in
under 10 minutes. We passed the biker bar where all the late night riders were
trying to get warm 4 years ago. It was here that I fell asleep by the fire,
only to be awaken by Kate telling me that we need to get rolling while another
randonneur (Dan?) was stuffing newspaper between his jersey and jacket to keep
the heat in. This time, we rolled right by, without as much as slowing down.
Some miles down the road, we
passed a lake and a dam, at which point the road pointed up. “Well, it looks
like the 20 mile downhill is over, Kate.” Only a few miles later, we came to a
T intersection, where 4 years ago the volunteers had a support station with
pizza. I recall getting a slice and biting into it only to find it had burned into charcoal on the bottom, and spitting it out violently while the
poor volunteer watched helplessly. I forgot the names of the volunteers who
were there (along of many other things about that night) but I remember the
fellow who gave me the pizza. Man, if you're reading it, I'm sorry! Last year
at a bike race, Kate recognized the guy. He was working as a race official. We
introduced ourselves and had a good laugh about it, marveling at the small
world of cycling.
The next control was right down
the road. We took our time, getting sandwiches and Pete and I had ice cream.
Checking The Plan, I noticed that we made up some time while rolling, spent
some extra at the control but were not falling further behind. Considering that
we had a bit of a headwind for the entire day, this was good. The Plan had a
margin built into it so we were still golden. The only downside of spending
longer time at the control was having stiff legs when we finally got rolling.
As Tom had promised, the last leg
of the day was vastly different from what we had 4 years ago. We took a gentler
route to Lock Haven and got to ride by the floodwall protecting the town from
Susquehanna River. There were a few extra hills going into Lamar, one of which
had several false summits, getting me to do a crazy laugh impersonation, which
Kate did not find amusing. Downhill to Lamar was rewarding, though, seeing that
Flying J post was like a carrot to encourage me. Once inside, I grabbed a donut
and coffee, finished the donut before checking out, grabbed another and then had
to explain to the cashier that yes, I had two donuts, and yes, I finished one
while waiting in the line. That was a scene that repeated itself over the next
two day as I found it easier to pick the supplies while eating already. While
outside, Kate and I shared our Lamar memories with Peter. Four years ago, we
abandoned the ride here, and we're still convinced it was the right thing to do
under the circumstances.
The final leg of the ride was
rather uneventful. We diverted from The Plan but we were well on track for the
daytime finish. Narrows Rd was like a space warp, landing us somewhere in
Vermont for a short while before returning to the familiar Pennsylvania
farmland. The Bull Run Rd climb was like riding through the rainforest in the
ocean facing side of the Cascades, there was just so much green everywhere. The
downhill called for some brakes, for once. After a false flat on Rt 192, we had
an absolute blast going downhill into Lewisburg. There were only a couple of
short hills in the mix, plus a careless driver who pulled out from a side road
closer than comfortable. I don't think the most drivers realize that bicycles
can easily break 30 mph when the road turns down a bit! We had a nice paceline
going into the town right until the traffic light and took it easy rolling
through the side streets. When we rolled in, the sun was behind the hills but
the golden clouds were still filling the sky and it was still bright outside.
We were greeted by smiling volunteers and got to experience the superb support
EM1240 is famous for yet again! Len took
Kate’s bike for her as she went in to clean up.
Peter, Len and I chatted as we oiled the chains and readied the bikes
for the next day’s adventure. Ron and Barb were hosting the dinner this
time. The highlight of the dinner was
Barb's vegetarian chili complemented with grilled chicken and, of course, BEER!
Nothing like a cold one at the end of the ride.
During the dinner, Kate, Peter
and I reviewed The Plan for the next day, and agreed to roll out at 5am again. Kate
got her swimsuit on and went for the pool and hot tub, while I just went to
sleep.
In the morning we had the hotel
breakfast and got going. The sky was
brightening, promising a (mostly) clear day. We also got some tough hills first
thing in the morning, to get the legs going no doubt. On the first downhill,
Peter and I plunged down and had to wait for Kate, who pointed out the folly of
going 50 mph downhill in twilight. We rode on quietly. At one point, Kate
mentioned she was looking forward to coffee at the next control. At about mile
18, we were passing a gas station and I called out for a second breakfast stop.
We got coffee, and breakfast sandwiches, and pastries, including some to take
with us. 15 minutes later, a much happier group of randonneurs got back on the
road. We were pointing out to each other how much difference a few hundred
calories and coffee can make, and I'm not just talking about riding ability!
Our moods improved greatly. I don't remember anything standing out about the
rest of this leg. There were some farms, and the road continued along the
valley, with a ridge to our right, making a lot of 90 degree turns to get
around the farm fields. A light breeze started to pick up, impeding our
progress.
We were about to turn into Sheetz, being so used to having a
Sheetz for the control. Looking on the cue sheet, we continued to the right
place: Tom's gas station/deli/everything else, just down the road. The usual 15
minute food purchase and stretch the legs routine, and we were off. Just as we
started, I noticed something wrong with the right pedal. I waved Kate and Peter
to keep rolling and did a short check. The pedal appeared to be almost seized;
it was finger tight to turn. I gave it a good shake and it seemed to loosen it
up. I started off, figuring that it was held together by a good sized nut and
while the pedal internals were probably getting ground into oblivion it was not
likely to completely disintegrate on me. That turned out to be true, and the
pedal was ridable for the next 300 miles. It continued to make bad grinding
noises from time to time, and a few times it felt like it was about to seize
but would eventually loosen up. I am glad it turned out to be nothing more than
annoyance as there were no bike shops on the route.
The next section was notable for the abundance of fresh
chip-seal spread all over the road. It was littering the side of the road,
making nice piles to sink the tires into. It was collecting into the little
dips on the turns, making traps for cyclists coming into a turn with too much
speed. Constant vibrations passed to the hands and already tenderized butts.
Plus, chip-seal slows you down by about a gear! Together with the breeze, it
conspired to make this section a slow torture-fest. The chip-seal would disappear
for a little while, giving false hope, just to appear again at the next turn!
It was exercise in character building. A really mean and ugly character, that
is. I was happy for this section to be over.
We met Judd and his wife at the next control, and he mentioned
“a climb” on the upcoming section. Kate
said, “You mean like the last few hundred miles of climbing we have been
doing?” And Judd just smiled. My first
thought was, “Does it have chip-seal?” We rolled out and joined US-22. “That
goes right by our house- let’s ride home,” Kate noted wryly. We were going in a
tight paceline on this busy road, and Peter hit a rock, narrowly avoiding a
crash. We just weren't used to having somebody else along, as we tend to ride in "air tandem" style, without much need to communicate. From here on, we made a point to call out hazards verbally as well as pointing them with a hand.
We continued on rolling terrain, and with each
hill I wondered, “Is that the hill Judd was talking about? It grew hotter in the sun. Than after
crossing US-22 again, we made a turn on Sugar Grove Rd that had an “UH-OH” written
right on the road. “This got to be the hill then,” I said. The hill didn't
disappoint, presenting some very steep sections. But it was darkly shaded and
cool, bordered with mountain streams. Peter had a saying written on his bike
club jersey and Kate started reciting the Robert Frost poem from which it
came: The woods are lovely dark and
deep… but I have promises to keep… and miles to go before I sleep… miles to go
before I sleep. We met Judd and his wife
again at the top of the climb, manning a secret control with a big, knowing
smile. He said we looked good, in a
surprised sort of way. We had the cards stamped, gulped down some water, and
were off to a rewarding downhill on the other side of the ridge.
The next section had some character as well. The road turned into
rollers, one a little taller than the one before, with no respite between.
After more than a dozen of those appetizers, we got our main course; the Jo
Hayes climb. Of all the hills on this edition of EM1240, I'd vote for Jo Hayes
being the toughest mother flower in the bunch. It was one grade, with very
little variation, all the way to the top, with little scenery to keep one's
mind occupied and traffic constantly buzzing by. Kate stuck right on my wheel
to the top. For the descent, I took the entire lane and let it rip. Kate was a
little more cautious, getting to the gas station a minute later. She looked
quite exhausted and said something along the lines of, “I'm going to need more
than 15 minutes here.” From the way it was said, I figured that was
non-negotiable. We took our time to recover in the air-conditioned room,
getting caffeinated beverages, ice cream and sandwiches.
Fortunately, the next section was either flat or had true
rollers, the kind that you can gain some speed and use it to get to the top.
The wind continued from the southeast but now it was helping us along. We were
flying! And we were making up time on the schedule. If the Pine Grove rest stop
was longer than The Plan called for, this section made up for it and more.
For the
next and last control we had to find a monument in the small town of Rebersburg
and write down the date we found there. The town is so small you could hold
your breath and get through it, but Kate spotted the monument before we rolled
passed. We noted on our brevet cards- 1862 was the date that local townsmen
were mustered into service during the Civil War. Luckily, we were there early
enough that the general store was open, so we got some food. It was a bit as though we had gone back in
time. A very old woman took our sandwich orders. The shop sold staples, like sugar and flour
by the pound in large bags. The place accepted credit cards but also checks
(made out in the family name) and even personal credit to the locals.
The last section of the day featured rolling hills, the next
one taller than the one before but still not steep. We reached a gentle climb
on Rt 192 and soon we passed Bull Run Rd on the left. I could smell the barn!
The downhill was now a familiar one, and we ripped with abandon. Not much to
say here, it was as gorgeous of scenery as it was the first time around. We
took it easy through the town and finally rolled into the overnight control
before 8pm, with sun still gracing the sky.
The stellar support from the volunteers was there again. Lane
checked us in and Ron and Barb fed us for the second night in a row. Kate and I
rode a big chunk of PA 400k with Lane this year and while he was down with a
sore knee (I think) this time, he looked all psyched up for the next PA ride
season. Did I mention there was beer in the cooler? My vote goes to the IPA as
the best recovery beverage ever! While having a dinner, Kate, Peter and I made
a plan to roll out at 6am on the last day and do the last day of riding
entirely in the daylight. Once again, Kate
did some active recovery in the pool and Jacuzzi while I hit the sack.
Next morning, we were hoping the hotel would put out more than
bad coffee and a few old bagels, but that didn't happen. We checked the
McDonald's next door, but it was closed until 6am. The next choice was to ride
until the first gas station, which was only 3 miles to go. On our way out, we
saw Mike Anderson rolling into the overnight control. We gave him a big
cheer. I truly admire the courage and
persistence of the folks that rode through the night. We stopped at the gas
station, devoured our breakfast sandwiches, donuts and coffee within the
allotted 15 minutes, and were on the way. Even with 130+ miles to go, it felt
like we were almost done. The barn was still far away, but we could smell it. Our butts were sore, but our spirits were
high.
We rolled along the river and over some rollers straight into
the first control. Quick stop, food and coffee and we were rolling again. Gap
Rd climb was steady, and we enjoyed the quiet road on Sunday morning. On the
crest we saw an off road park, with dozens of Jeep Wranglers parked all over
and more coming up as we descended. You know the guys are serious about
off-roading when there's a snorkel on every other car. After the downhill, Pine
Grove was probably the busiest town of the entire four-day ride but we turned
onto the secondary roads soon. We were in for a surprise climb on Rt 645. What
it didn't have in length, it made up in steepness. We just stood up and toughed it out, but that
might have been the first time all weekend we went anaerobic. The downhill on
the other side was quite exciting too, with a 90 degree left turn at the bottom
of 14% stretch. With the climb done, we were looking forward to some food and
drinks, and fortunately the control was just down the road.
The next section was not particularly memorable. There were
beautiful farmlands, and we followed along the top of a small ridge dissecting
a valley, but that was the kind of scenery we were used to by now. Many small
rollers later, we rode into Virginville to drop off the post cards. There was
no gas station or deli nearby and Peter really wanted a cold drink. There was a
bar that was opened but it was a little early for a beer. Kate and I agreed
that what we really wanted was a coke float. We convinced Peter to hold
out. We decided to continue along the
route and stop at the first place that looked promising. That place turned out
to be Crystal Cave, a true tourist attraction with, YES, an ice cream shack! We procured ourselves ice cream floats and
put our feet up. This being the last stop on the ride, we decided to take our
time, chat and enjoy the food instead of devouring it. We saw a constant stream
of families walking towards the cavern and another stream emerging from the
cavern and heading to either food shack or ice cream shack or panning for gold
in the fake stream. We didn’t want to
leave.
With the last bit of ice cream and carbonated sweetness gone,
we had no choice but to hop on our bikes and get this thing done. Some way down
the road, as we were starting to feel like the ride should really be over and
why, oh why do the mountains continue endlessly in our path, we saw a couple in
a parking lot, the gentleman on a bike and the lady ringing a cow bell and
cheering. At first, we were confused,
but then we realized they were cheering for us!
The last time someone rang a cowbell at me was at the Battenkill Gran
Fondo in the spring! It was very uplifting. The guy (sorry man, I forgot your
name!) joined us for a little while, jumping a bit ahead to take pictures on
the climb and then rolling along. We felt energized as we continued along
another series of rollers and curvy descents and small farms on the roadside.
Soon, the area was becoming more populated. We were riding through familiar
territory, the road signs pointing to the familiar towns just a few miles away.
Finally, we made that last turn onto Rt 663. The end was in sight. We traded
pulls on this final stretch and just chilled for the last couple of miles. At
the entrance to the hotel, Keith took our picture as we tried to pose rolling
side by side. Then there was Chris congratulating us on the finish. We were again, the first finishers. Although
that was never our goal, we felt proud. There was more picture-taking and
posing with our medals. We hung around to see more people finish and hear the
stories from the road. And there was beer, and more beer. We were only sorry
that Tom was waylaid by work and could not be there. We stayed up for as long as we could keep our
heads up and eyes open, talking and laughing and listening and feeling really
good. Then we went to bed and slept very soundly.
So, that’s the story of an extraordinary, yet ordinary ride.
In the four years since our last attempt, so much had happened.
We faced some challenges
(Kate was diagnosed with MS) as well as some great joys
(we got married) but mostly we rode our
bikes and had a lot of fun.
We knew we
wanted to try the Endless Mountains again, and while we didn’t set out to train
for it in a narrowly focused way, it was always there in the background,
calling. Thank you Tom, and all the other volunteers.
We hope to be on the other side next time,
cheering and supporting the next bunch through the EM1240.
