Today, I accomplished what I wanted to do on my bike. I wanted to ride a century before I hit 35. Although, I only rode a metric century, 63 miles, it counts for something. I rode 63.35 miles at the Civil War Century from Thrumont, MD to Gettysburg, PA. We passed through Emmitsburg and the backside of Ski Liberty before riding through the Gettysburg battlefield. It was awesome, and I'll probably want to do it again next year.
First things first. I woke up early again, packed my car with my gear, and headed out to Thurmont via Route 26. The cool morning air was filled with fog when I reached Frederick county, so the ride was going to be in the early morning mist. As I get closer to the start, I pass some riders. They appeared out of the fog suddenly, so I note that it will be somewhat dangerous until the sun can burn the fog away.
I park. It's eight o'clock. I am so set. When I get dressed, I find I had left my cycling shoes at home. "Son of a bitch." I wonder if I can drive back, get them and make it back in time to ride. "Parking closes at 9." I'm shit out of luck for it would take me 2 hours to go home and back arriving at 10 and missing some of the rest stops along the way. As I go register, I make up my mind. Do it. Ride in your sneakers. Use this calamity to your advantage and make it burn a desire to finish off the ride in style. Fuck it. I go for it.
The ride starts in the cool of the morning. I didn't wear my arm warmers, because I feel that it was going to heat up later, but the air was still chilly before I was warmed up enough. Riding through the mist for about 45 minutes until the fog lifts was great. Like a dawn patrol, but on a bike.
I make it to the first water stop in an hour or so. I had averaged a good 15 mph! Looks to be about a 4 hour day. I had planned on a 12 mph pace, but I take it. The course was rolling. No hills to climb except for the backside of Ski Liberty. It goes up steep. I go into the red zone thinking it was a short climb, but as I crest the hill, I see it flatten then go up again for another 50 meters. I get off and walk the bike up.
At the second water stop, I grab some food: PBJ and a banana. I fill my water bottles with Gatorade and water. Hopefully, the Gatorade will help me not cramp up later in the ride. When I ride, I usually set my trip computer to display the distance. This time I set it to display my speed. I don't want to know how many miles are left. It would disappoint me seeing the miles tick by slowly. The second leg averages a little bit less than 15 mph. The legs feel the 33 miles already. I have not ridden past this point so far this year. I am in unchartered territory. Will I have enough to get me through? And where the hell's Gettysburg?
At this point I am stung by a bee that flew into my helmet. I thrash about trying to knock it away, but don't know if I am successful. I pull over take off my helmet. A cute girl goes by in a group asking if I'm alright. "Bee!" is all I say. Mental note catch up to that group.
On the third leg, we cruise through the battlefield. I have to come back later and ride the park on a bike for it would be fun, but now I am busy. I rest at the Peach Orchard reading some of the commerative statues. When I climb on my bike again, I pass some kids who cheer the lot of us on. What fun! We cruise past Devil's Den before leaving the park. I have to do this place again on a leisurely pace.
As we leave Gettysburg, I gain the wheel of four other riders. They're pushing 20 mph, and I'm loving it except when I throw my chain again!
At the third and final water stop, a sign says that I have done 50 of the 63 miles. Only 13 to go woohoo! As I leave, I suddenly feel the mileage. My legs are getting weaker every turn of the crank. At 52 miles, they don't feel anything at all. My tank is empty and I hope to make it home. I spin at a leisurely pace hoping that no hills arise. No hills come, but the wind kicks up. I am spinning 11 mph into a headwind and it is no fun. It's also no fun when I pick up to ladies who latch onto my wheel as I break the wind for them. They back off after riding my wheel for a mile. That sucked.
I pass the cute girl's group again. They have to wait for a struggling friend. Yet since my legs are dead, they pass me. She's fast, and her companions complain. I try to keep up, but a steady incline has me falling back.
The final miles are not sliding by quick enough. I watch the odometer on my computer: 57 miles, 58 miles...
We get to the outskirts of Thurmont. A funeral procession passes. I stop and let them through. It's the hearse, followed by the limo, then some Harleys, and some mods on scooters! I tag along on the back as another cute girl goes by. I try to catch her, but gain no ground. In the town, we're caught in traffic. It's stressful.
Finally, the finish. I look down 4 hours and 15 minutes to ride 63.35 miles. Sweet! I averaged about 14+ mph. Not bad. I get something to eat. Ice cream.
It's been a good year for my cycling. I have put about 350 miles on my Gios and I had another 50 on my Bianchi. I think I'll be slowing down a bit. Until next year that is.
First things first. I woke up early again, packed my car with my gear, and headed out to Thurmont via Route 26. The cool morning air was filled with fog when I reached Frederick county, so the ride was going to be in the early morning mist. As I get closer to the start, I pass some riders. They appeared out of the fog suddenly, so I note that it will be somewhat dangerous until the sun can burn the fog away.
I park. It's eight o'clock. I am so set. When I get dressed, I find I had left my cycling shoes at home. "Son of a bitch." I wonder if I can drive back, get them and make it back in time to ride. "Parking closes at 9." I'm shit out of luck for it would take me 2 hours to go home and back arriving at 10 and missing some of the rest stops along the way. As I go register, I make up my mind. Do it. Ride in your sneakers. Use this calamity to your advantage and make it burn a desire to finish off the ride in style. Fuck it. I go for it.
The ride starts in the cool of the morning. I didn't wear my arm warmers, because I feel that it was going to heat up later, but the air was still chilly before I was warmed up enough. Riding through the mist for about 45 minutes until the fog lifts was great. Like a dawn patrol, but on a bike.
I make it to the first water stop in an hour or so. I had averaged a good 15 mph! Looks to be about a 4 hour day. I had planned on a 12 mph pace, but I take it. The course was rolling. No hills to climb except for the backside of Ski Liberty. It goes up steep. I go into the red zone thinking it was a short climb, but as I crest the hill, I see it flatten then go up again for another 50 meters. I get off and walk the bike up.
At the second water stop, I grab some food: PBJ and a banana. I fill my water bottles with Gatorade and water. Hopefully, the Gatorade will help me not cramp up later in the ride. When I ride, I usually set my trip computer to display the distance. This time I set it to display my speed. I don't want to know how many miles are left. It would disappoint me seeing the miles tick by slowly. The second leg averages a little bit less than 15 mph. The legs feel the 33 miles already. I have not ridden past this point so far this year. I am in unchartered territory. Will I have enough to get me through? And where the hell's Gettysburg?
At this point I am stung by a bee that flew into my helmet. I thrash about trying to knock it away, but don't know if I am successful. I pull over take off my helmet. A cute girl goes by in a group asking if I'm alright. "Bee!" is all I say. Mental note catch up to that group.
On the third leg, we cruise through the battlefield. I have to come back later and ride the park on a bike for it would be fun, but now I am busy. I rest at the Peach Orchard reading some of the commerative statues. When I climb on my bike again, I pass some kids who cheer the lot of us on. What fun! We cruise past Devil's Den before leaving the park. I have to do this place again on a leisurely pace.
As we leave Gettysburg, I gain the wheel of four other riders. They're pushing 20 mph, and I'm loving it except when I throw my chain again!
At the third and final water stop, a sign says that I have done 50 of the 63 miles. Only 13 to go woohoo! As I leave, I suddenly feel the mileage. My legs are getting weaker every turn of the crank. At 52 miles, they don't feel anything at all. My tank is empty and I hope to make it home. I spin at a leisurely pace hoping that no hills arise. No hills come, but the wind kicks up. I am spinning 11 mph into a headwind and it is no fun. It's also no fun when I pick up to ladies who latch onto my wheel as I break the wind for them. They back off after riding my wheel for a mile. That sucked.
I pass the cute girl's group again. They have to wait for a struggling friend. Yet since my legs are dead, they pass me. She's fast, and her companions complain. I try to keep up, but a steady incline has me falling back.
The final miles are not sliding by quick enough. I watch the odometer on my computer: 57 miles, 58 miles...
We get to the outskirts of Thurmont. A funeral procession passes. I stop and let them through. It's the hearse, followed by the limo, then some Harleys, and some mods on scooters! I tag along on the back as another cute girl goes by. I try to catch her, but gain no ground. In the town, we're caught in traffic. It's stressful.
Finally, the finish. I look down 4 hours and 15 minutes to ride 63.35 miles. Sweet! I averaged about 14+ mph. Not bad. I get something to eat. Ice cream.
It's been a good year for my cycling. I have put about 350 miles on my Gios and I had another 50 on my Bianchi. I think I'll be slowing down a bit. Until next year that is.
Labels: cycling, NewsRadio quote, sports