I safely predicted that the Saturday
FestiVelo ride
would bring out a lot of local riders. No wizardry here. Saturday’s the
weekend.
Thursday’s century was a fast one for several of us but most of the
locals were still working.
Jana Glover of Charleston Bicycle Company and I started out with a
stranger/soon to be friend, James Artis. James dropped back after about
40 and Jana and I rode on.
We did a relatively fast ride for two riders. We came in around 5 hours
for almost 100 miles.
We stopped at a rest stop, traffic, traffic lights, RR tracks, etc.
Friday was an easier day, although it wasn’t really supposed to be.
There weren’t other riders at our pace. Friday I was joined by Jane
West, of course. Jane and I were quickly told by riders coming back that
we were going the wrong way. We circled around and helped a group get it
right. Jane helped riders get onto the Ravenel Bridge path by pushing
the “walk button” on the busy road.
I learned that the ride wasn’t allowed on the Isle of Palms.
America hates bikes. The country enjoyed Lance Armstrong’s success but
has no patience for the rest of us on the roads. Sorry, I think it’s
insanity.
So Jane and I wandered on the course I thought I knew by heart, as
I had just marked it. I had painted arrows all the way to the Isle of
Palms. Alas, now we were not going there and new mileage was “painted”
in.
We met up with Woody Graham, Nick Dolby, and
Nancy. We strolled around as I gave up making time and decided to save
my legs for the big Saturday’s ride. The majority of the Saturday riders
would have fresh legs.
I even cut the ride way short because I didn’t
have the heart for it I guess.
Jane had to ride because it was a beautiful day. She had worked
hard all week and was fighting some minor annoying problems. She wound
up riding across the “connector” (bridge) between IOP and Mount
Pleasant. She rode the bridge at least thrice plus the Tom Sawyer Bridge
twice. She also rode the Ravenel Bridge twice. The ride would be 75 or
so for her. I think the miles on this Friday and her other problems hurt
her for the very next day which was hard.
She’s tough as nails but she’s
not been quite the speed demon she usually is and would still be called
a speed demon on Saturday and Sunday.
We also showed movies until late-thirty every
night at the campground for the riders camping and in motor homes.
The ride Saturday started as expected. Lots of riders. We started
out over the Connector between Charleston and West Ashley. We held up
well and everyone took it rather pleasantly. Out of Mount Pleasant just
a bit, our large group was passed by a couple I had seen the last couple
days. The first day after we left the first rest stop, I saw them and
was surprised at how fast they had come up on us when we had not seen
anyone behind us at all. I saw them again on my way back from Sullivan’s
Island in Mt. Pleasant.
I caught them at a traffic light and warned them that they needed
to move over to the center turning lane soon for the Ravenel Bridge. I
took off up the bridge and Joanne was on my wheel. I was standing on the
pedals but I would need to sit and pedal fast and hard to stay on her
wheel after she passed me. I later passed her back but never got an inch
on her.
Saturday was so different. We had this huge pack and Joanne and
Mark saw this big group of well-oiled and dressed machines and just
rolled on by. When I recognized them, I tried to tell them that I took
their picture the day before on the Ravenel Bridge. They didn’t care as
they were concentrating on riding. They motored. I liked their speed, so
I jumped on the back of the duo from Pittsburg. I liked their style.
They saw a huge pack of speed demons and sped by them. While pulling the
pack early on, Joanne lost her water bottle and had to go back for it. I
was in front of her and probably didn’t signal a pothole quick enough.
The bottle bounced out. The group waited a good while and we thought
they were up with some other riders who had pulled themselves up to us
while we were soft-pedaling waiting on Joanne and Mark. Then the pack
took off thinking that Jo Ann and Mark were up. Mark and Joanne caught
back up and started pulling the pack again. We three pulled away from
the pack or they just quit working. After a bit, Jane joined us and we
were sailing through the country side while it was being said back in
the group that it was crazy to attack with only 30 miles into a 100
-mile ride. We weren’t attacking. We were just lifting the pace to suit
ourselves.
There are no grand illusions of physical prowess here. I get
dropped often enough. I’ve had many heart wrenching performances. I’ve
talked about selling T-shirts reading “I dropped Michael”. Thousands of
cyclists were indeed missing this day. We all know there are a lot of
really faster people all over. A bunch of fast local riders were still
missing for this ride.
One local legend, Mike Klatt, met us on the
road and he joined us. Now there were 5 of us. He talked everyone into
doing extra credit around maybe “Bluff Road”. I think this was an extra
2 or so miles. I really would have voted against the extra mileage had
this been a democracy. After I saw the “yes” votes, I remained mum. Mark
now lost a bottle. I turned around and picked it up for him. Mark and
Joanne were riding beautiful bikes with beautiful water bottle cages.
The Bottle cages sucked though. Later when we rejoined the actual 2007
FestiVelo course, we five stopped as Joanne had to do some stretching.
We had a lot of miles in our legs from days of riding.
Four of us had put in too many miles to be
messing with a band of racers on the road today. We actually caught the
pack again. We pulled the pack again. We pulled away from the pack
again. The pack organized maybe and caught us. We made it together to
the next rest stop where I saw a mystery rider from day 1 and day 2. He
was fast and always alone. I went slowly by him and stuck my hand out
for a slap. He greeted me with “Hi Boss”.
After the rest stop we all stayed together for a short while and
the usual suspects, Mike, Joanne, Mark, Jane and I, Michael, pulled away
again. Jane’s legs gave her trouble on the next hard long bridge. She
dropped way back. Too many hard miles and stomach problems from the days
before. I pulled off at the top of the climb and waited. She joined me
and now I was pulling a group. I wasn’t aware that it was the “pack”.
Carl, everybody’s Guru of 63, ate birthday cake and I had to have
some too. Pure sugar. I also made sure I had some “Mannabears”. I tried
to drink more water. My legs were shot. I had been hurting for quite
some time.
The pack left without saying goodbye. I grabbed my bike up and sped
off to catch. I didn’t see Mark and Joanne before leaving the rest stop
and I didn’t see them in the pack.
I would then make sure I didn’t pull too much. I wasn’t the only
one with that in mind but I’d stick to my plan of less output. I hung on
sometimes when I wanted to get a massage instead of a hammerfest.
Finally we made it back to the bridge and I knew the distance and
hung on to the first few guys. Others were dropping off one by one.
I didn’t dare look back. I had to look at the battle in front. When
I did feel safe to look back, there was no one there. Now there was a
Clemson jerseyed rider pulling hard into the wind. I was glad I wasn’t
pulling. Perhaps the “Tiger” pulled too long into the wind. Now there
were three of us and the “Tiger” was in the tank. God bless the cyclist
that will pull into the wind like that. Chris, with the VW team was
pulling. A rider from Summerville and I were content to let him pull. He
pulled us to Lockwood Drive and then he sprinted quickly for a huge gap.
I went around Summerville Dude, but we would all have to stop for the
next few traffic lights. The Riverdog Stadium, where we began, was just
up the road.
We loafed the next block or so and a couple of the other riders came up.
I was surprised that it went so well for me. Again, there are no
grand delusions here. Thousands or millions of riders weren’t there.
It’s just that I held up with other younger riders and I had put in some
hard miles the last few days. I was delighted.
When we “pulled” or left the large group it was to keep our pace
not force a pace on anybody or drop somebody. We four went against the
grain of safety and convention and rode our own ride. Sometimes we pay
for it. When I play cards, I only like to play “bid whist”. I’m not hung
up on winning. I want to play. I want to be animated. I don’t want to
sit by and see the bid go easily to someone else. I want to make the
most of “my hand”. A bunch of us played hard. We rode the ride we wanted
to ride not someone else’s ride. We were even less spectators than most.
We rode. We dared ourselves. We played hard. We were alive. We were
“animated”.
We then ate good food at the mess tent. Later in the evening, Jane
and I showed movies at the camp ground, ate freshly roasted oysters, and
fell asleep in front of the huge screen until the movie finished. We
lived.
Email me if you're interested in a picture- Michael at:
gr8bikn@comcast.net
