It ended up being Munson, Randell, Bryan and Brady. Oh yeah, I was there too. We started at 7AM, so Munson was left behind, since he didn't show up until 7:01.
The pace was not too fast. I don't think anyone really wanted to push it, but it was a good workout. There were a lot of people on the trail even on the way out (at 7:00).
Not much of interest happened until we got to highway 36 and 72nd street. That's when I realized that Brady is a genius. I was pretty out-of-breath from going up that last hill, trying to breathe normally so the others (who were breathing normally) would maybe think I was also just coasting up the hill. Anyway, my game was about to be revealed but I was saved by Brady's brilliant "flat tire" move. Then, to make it even better, we did a really slow flat tire repair. It was like a ten minute break or so. Yaaay!
Ok, so then we were off again coasting on the trace rollers. Anything interesting there? Hmm. Well there was the part where Mike hit a hole or something, and almost swerved into Jon. Jon was like "step off" and stuff. For the record, nobody else saw this phantom hole of Mike's either. In any event, I decided it was time to drive for a while. So I kicked it up a notch to about 16 MPH. Party's over boys!
That's about the time we saw a lone female road rider ahead going the same direction as us. That was entertaining for a while. There were Phil Liggett impersonations, Jokes about how she had dropped us in the first place, etc. etc. Oh - Shh ... we're about to go by her. Ok, anyway, more joking I don't remember, but it was funny. I assure you.
Ok - then the ride down the big hill to Hwy 75 was entertaining. Just because it's fun to see Mike and Jon do the "Extreme Aero" thing. I hope I'm not around when one of them loses control.
When we got past Chip Davis' place, the guys went fairly easy up the first part of that big hill north of Dodge park. As it levels out in the middle, we were all together. That's never happened to me before. I know I usually gain ground on the Wednesday group on this section and up the next hill, so I thought I'd give it a whirl and see what happened. I got the bike going 22 and kept it there until the engine blew at about 20 yards from the summit. I know "summit" is kind of a lofty word for that hill, but it makes it sound cool.
I wouldn't even bring it up, but I promised. Jon said I dropped him on that hill. Um, well I guess I'll always have that. Kind of like that time I obliterated Munson in that 2.5K time trial. Neither of those things are representative of reality, but I will hang on to them to comfort myself and stave off the voices for yet another day.
The worst part of the ride was the trail on the way back. There were lots of people, and a surprising amount of "trail rage". I guess everyone made their Independence day resolutions and was getting pissed off at all the people literally standing in the way of their fitness. The comfort bikers were the main offenders. It was crazy to see. Baggy nylony shorts, upright seated, growling and yelling at people strolling their toddlers.
It just verifies a theory I've had for a while. Comfort bikers are assholes.
So Brady and I jumped off the trail at Western and snaked our way back to my house, just in time to catch the whole neighborhood, including my family, getting ready to go to the July fourth J.E. George parade. I really just wanted to go inside, but Jill made me go. Really. I had no choice. I'm like "in these clothes?" Then she gave me that irresistible tongue-click, eye-roll combo. I had to go then. I can't argue with that. Oh well, here's a picture of Jack. It's B&W, because I seem to have changed some setting when I grabbed the camera from my jersey pocket. Notice he's got the Bike Master's Jersey on. Traitor. By the way - Thanks Brady for the flags. The flags in the handlebars of Jack's bike are the same ones that Brady had on his (see top photo).
4 comments:
Ya know, right in the middle of doing that extreme aero thing, I just envisioned hitting a small bump, being thrown off the bike, then skidding down the road losing lots of flesh in the process, and eventually coming to a squishing stop under some car's wheel.
I consequently slowed down.
Speaking of bumps ...
Today I rode over the spot where Mike decided to attack (literally). There is indeed a bump -- and kind of a big one. While I managed to keep control of my bike, it should be noted that Mike was showboating, ie: riding a bike with only ONE hand. Dude, lock it up.
Uh oh Munson. It's beginning. As you age, you may notice more and more your imagination causing you to slow down. When I was 19, I used to fly through stop signs at night without considering slowing down as long as I didn't see the reflection of headlights on the lightposts. Now I think there could be a car coming with lights off or another bike or who knows. It's not worth the risk. Back then I would have said "what risk?"
Bryan, how else are you supposed to take a drink. I do kinda like the idea of showing up at a TT with a beer helmet full of Mt. Dew. I wouldn't be as fast, but I'd be maybe just as funny.
Fred, I don't call it getting older, I call it getting experience. I've had crashes that were a result of risks and I found out it hurt and sucked to be injured. So I learned and became WISER that ignoring risks is foolish. Which is why I have always respected my elders because they have experience and are wise.
So Fred, oh mighty wise one, how much pain is that hillclimb ride going to produce this Saturday and can I be a part of it?
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