A Walk in the Rain

Yep, it’s that time of the year again.  July has finally come along with the much awaited Tour de France.  This year has been a little different then past, main difference being that the officals droped the time bonuses, which has created a very intersting first few stages.  So far we have seen the Yellow Jersey being pasted around to quite a few different riders, and so far a sprinter hasn’t has the chance to wear this prized possestion.  The mountain stages start Saturday and I am sure that they will cause some time gaps within the GC.  As it stands now the two American are the two top teams, with more then anough men in the top 10 to come out with an overall win.  We will all watch with ernest to see what happens in the next two and a half weeks.

Since it has been so hot here and I haven’t had the ability to get out and ride everyday I have taken up casual MTB.  And when I say casual I mean casual. The most I have riden is maybe 2 or 3 miles around the walking trail in my neighborhood.  But I have to admit that it isn’t as bad as I would have previously believed.  I have never been big into mountan biking but since I have no time to get out and ride on the road it is the only viable option.

Right now I am riding my cousins bike that he buit up, only problem is that it is a bit big for me.  I think that this might become a regular thing for me, riding on the trails, while walking the dog at the same time. Yeah sounds good to me.  I will try to get some pictures of the bike up as soon as possible.

So Yesterday was my first day back on the bike since Marion, and I underestimated myself. First off we got to the place late and the “fast” guys were just leaving as my dad was pulling the bikes, yes plural, no tandem, off the car. The slow group was just leaving so I decided to tag on with them, whereas my dad went off with two guys that waited for us.

The ride started off nice and slow, well really slow. Mind you I am use to being on the tandem, so I had a little bit of trouble remembering to to shift, oh yeah, and steer. (no making fun of me). Anyway, since I am running out of time I will make this short, after about 2 miles with riding with the slow group I said screw this a sped off. I waited for them at all the stops but as soon as they got there I was off. I finished almost 10 minutes before they got in. I don’t know what I averaged, since thanks to my dad there was no magnet on my bike computer. But I am guessing that it was around 15-16mph, with a headwind the entire way.

All in all, it was a good ride, but next time I am staying with my dad.

On Monday we went on a 75 mile ride called Assault On Marion, here is my recap of the ride.

We managed to get to the start of the ride with about 10 minutes to spare, which was amazing because I got out of bed only 15 minutes before that. As the time was clicking away, I observed that it probably wasn’t my brightest idea to drink coffee before the ride. I was already getting cramps in my stomach and we haven’t even started yet. Once we got on the bike and started though, the pain slowly but surely dissipated.

The ride stared off fairly slow, considering that it was already warm outside. We quickly spotted a few other tandems, and managed to cut across traffic (sorry to any cyclist my dad cut off) to talk to them. A couple on a bright yellow tandem had high hopes of making it all the way up to Mitchell. I quickly pegged them as being a little insane, seeing how hard it was to climb even the smallest hills on a tandem. But congratulations should be given to them, as them did manage to make it all the way up.
The first 5 miles went great for us, even though my dad thinks that I cursed us by making fun of the riders that managed to get flat tires in less than two miles. Sadly within mile 6 we too managed a flat. My dad hastily attempted to fix it by using a patch kit, and again we were on our way. Only difference being that this time we were in the very back of the pack, and I mean we were pretty close to being the last riders. We played catch up for the next 20 miles because of it, and were able to pass a considerable amount of riders. At the first rest stop we were making decent time and we didn’t want to ruin it by stopping for too long, so we filled our water bottles and we were off. We were finally warmed up by this is when the hills finally started.

Now please keep in mind that I absolutely despise climbing. It isn’t that I am bad at it, it is just that I am lazy and I would rather go fast on a flat and push, then slow on a climb. So, by the time Bill’s Hill (Mountain) I was already tired, but we kept a steady pace of about 8 mph. Now mind you, that wasn’t that hardest climb of the ride, no in fact it was fairly easy because we found a rhythm and we just pushed, the hills that followed where the torturous ones.

About 18 miles from the end of the ride we were climbing and my dad looked dead, I attempted to push harder so he wouldn’t have to but something was wrong. He wanted to quit so I persuaded him to wait till we got to a relatively flat section to stop. We got off the bike for a few minutes so that he could rest. I had never seen him so tired and in so much pain, he was ready to abandon the ride, but I reminded him that the last rest stop was only about a mile away, so we got back on the bike and continued on. We made it to the next rest stop and had some water poured over out head to cool us off, and we left. We ended up riding with a woman that my dad had known from previous rides.

Now I was always told that this ride ended exactly at 70 miles, yeah they all lied to me. It was close to 75 miles, and trust me, that extra 5 miles made a huge difference. I am sure that Karen, the woman that we were riding with, will attest to the fact that those last 5 miles lasted forever. I mean come on, we kept getting lied to. I distantly remember my dad saying “Oh, this is the last climb, and then it is right around this corner”, at least 3 times. And yet somehow all of us made it up those THREE last hills.

Once into Marion, my dad made the wise choice to abandon and not climb Mitchell. He never would have made it this year, in fact, I believe that I am the only reason he finished Marion, because he was ready to quite 15 miles out.

So overall the ride was a success, even though we finished about an hour slower than we expected. I was in pain for the last 20 miles, thanks to the back of the bike being too small for me, but still we managed to finish our longest ride so far on the tandem. Oh yeah and the ride with the most climbing, and remember I hate climbing. It was hard but we managed and I am proud of my dad for not giving up too soon. I hope everyone gets a chance to participate in a ride like this at least once in their life.

A long, twisted road full of holes and roadkill. Only an inept rider would ever dare to climb the brutal mountain. Only his strength against the power of gravity. With each pedal stroke getting him closer to the summit, closer to his finale. Each gasp for air brings him that much closer to when this torture will finally subside.

The climbs becoming more unforgiving now. The rider no longer feels the same tranquility as when first beginning this outrageous pursuit for the top. The riders feelings transform from a peaceful calm to unmatched anguish.

Every breath is a prayer, a prayer for the end of the ride to ultimately arrive. Every pedal stroke, every push is pure agony.

The rider has turned from man to machine now. His legs move no longer for the pleasure of the ride, but now they move out of habit. They move without pain, they move to get him to the top. The ride is no longer the joyous adventure that it started out as, but now it has turned into the opposite; an agonizing, hurtful climb that has torn the rider down.

As the end gradually approaches the rider feels the joy that was once lost. He now remembers the reason he continued to push, pedal stroke by pedal stroke. He remembers why he trained those four long months in preparation for this monumental event.

As he crosses the line tears fall from his eyes. The mixture of unrivaled suffering and the unparalleled pleasure overpowers him as he drops the bike to the ground. The ride is over as is the pain, that is, until next year.