Paulhenge Century and New Roads

"The most splendid moment of an adventure

is not always the moment of fulfillment, not even the

moment of conception, but the moment of first

accomplishment, when the adventurer sets

his face toward the new road, knowing that his

boats are burned."

Katherine Thurston

I am looking forward to the new century route designed by Jon Wineland.  Looking at the GPS file, I know I have been on some of these roads, but many are completely new to me.  It is always so interesting to me how roads lace together running here and there but often coming together and emptying into familiar places.  "Why", I ask myself, "is there often a tendency at intersections to turn in the old familiar way?"   Is it just me, or do others find themselves doing the same, thinking that time is slipping by and there are miles to travel.  But then I realize I don't always do this.  If I did, there would never be  new routes. 

 

Though it is not a route I designed, I am enticed with the thought of the new roads. It is a longish drive for many to get to the starting place, Madison:  about an hour from Louisville.  I wonder how many will show.  I think how different we are.  The drive does not seem too much to me to see new places and new things.  Still it is for some, and   I also know that there are  those who, after viewing the  GPS file, will use the drive as an excuse to avoid the climbs.  There are easier pickings century-wise on the club schedule to finish out the tour and the cycling year, to do rides that "count."  How sad that we have come to this.  But as Amelia reminds me during the ride, there are those who must negotiate this precious time on the bike with spouses or significant others that don't ride.   As I have thought so often in the past, how lucky I was that Lloyd always supported my riding though I feel certain there were times when he would much rather I had stayed home.

The weather prediction means that the weather will be a bit sketchy in the afternoon:  a fifty percent chance of rain and thunderstorms.  But are we Mad Dogs or Pampered Poodles?  There will be no cancellation of this ride because it "might" rain or it "might" storm.  Not that I don't respect storms, and even have a healthy fear of them.  But during brevets I have ridden through plenty of them. But if one is not careful, fear can bind you more tightly than any ropes and keep you from living.  I am reassured in this decision as the riders begin to arrive, adults, capable of making their own decisions.  I know all but one and there is another I am only a little familiar with, but they are strong, capable cyclists.  Indeed, I am, perhaps, indeed mostly likely, the weakest of the lot.  I am okay with that as well.  I intend to lollygag and not push the pace today and I announced that in my ride description. 

As it turns out, there are eleven of us:  Jon Wineland (Course designer), Fritz KoPatz (back from his broken ribs), Tom Hurst, Amelia Dauer, Steve Meredith, Larry Preble, Thomas Nance, Samuel Bland, Clint Phillips, and Steve Draper, a visitor from Illinois who is working in Shepherdsville and found out about the ride on line.  We head out and are barely a half mile or so from the start when someone's bike begins making a metal screeching sound that I have never heard being made by a bike before.  As it turns out, Fritz's crank arm has cracked right off.  The  noise is the metal dragging on the ground.  I've never seen this happen before.  Someone later says it was probably damaged when he crashed and broke his ribs and they are probably right.  Regardless, Fritz has to turn around and return to his car.  His ride for the day is done. I am sad for him, but so glad that he didn't have a tumble. 

The rest of us follow Jon's advice and walk our bikes over the gravel bridge over the creek before heading up Heritage Trail, the first climb of the day and a long climb, but certainly not the toughest climb of the day.  At least the rest of us other than one rebel;-)  If I remember correctly Thomas rode over the bridge and down despite the rocks and pitted earth.   Some stop halfway up the climb to take photos.  Three of the riders take lots of photos so I don't bother knowing their pictures will be shared on Facebook.  

The first part of the ride is pretty flat and the pace is quicker than I had anticipated, but I have no trouble keeping that pace though I fall back a bit in anticipation of what is to come.  At one point, I tell Steve Meredith that the flatness is worrying me because I know the amount of climb in the ride.  Jon warns us that the last part of the ride is hillier than the first.  It is lovely to be out on roads that I have not ridden before or that I have not ridden so often that I know each turn and bend and bump, but I am not as strong as I once was so I exercise caution.  

I expect the group to fall apart at the first store stop as Jon has said he would like to have breakfast there and I have agreed to join him.  It is new to me, ordering breakfast this early in a ride.   Normally I eat a blueberry oatmeal bar I  make at home or buy a little something, drink, and head on.  But instead, I order a short stack of pancakes which is actually a pretty big stack of pancakes and I eat every bite.  I expect that many riders will take off since they have cue sheets and GPS tracks, but when I leave the store after eating breakfast, however hurriedly, they are there.  They leave when I come out, however, Jon is still inside.  I wait a moment and stick my head inside the door to find him, but don't see him.  I know that if I don't leave, I will never catch the group in front of me but that Jon will.  So I would either ride alone or Jon would mince his pace to match mine.  

So I head on knowing he will catch us, and he does...much sooner than anticipated.  It takes me quite awhile, but I do finally catch the back of the pack. I am glad Jon catches us quickly because otherwise I would have wondered about the buildings we pass that look as if they are half torn down.  As it turns out, it is the Urban Training Center where armed forces train for combat in an urban war zone. It makes sense to have one, but I never knew one existed.  I suppose I had never thought about it though I knew Lloyd had flown different places, including Colorado, while in the service and training.

 

 The others have taken off before then and by the time we reach the first covered bridge, it is just Steve and I though Jon is waiting at the bridge.  I want to walk through the bridge but Steve does not so he rides on.  Jon walks through with me.  I note that the bridge does not use arches like the covered bridge at Medora.  Instead it uses Howe trusses though not metal trusses.  Per Wikipedia:  "A Howe truss is a truss bridge consisting of chords, verticals, and diagonals whose vertical members are in tension and whose diagonal members are in compression. The Howe truss was invented by William Howe in 1840, and was widely used as a bridge in the mid to late 1800s."  

 

While we are there, Larry rides up saying the front group went off course.  So only Steve M. is ahead.  But Larry is alone because the others did not turn around with him.  Slowly the group regathers as the others find their way back on course.  On person, I think Steve, the other Steve;-),  says his GPS automatically reroutes when he goes off course.    

 

Right before lunch the group does a short out and back on a busy road, 50, to see Paul Henge, kind of a stone henge made from concrete slabs with shapes cut in the middle to tell time.   Laughingly, I ask Jon not to look at his watch and to tell me what time it is.  Appropriate photos are taken and we head back out, laughing and joking. 

 

We reach the lunch stop with no sign of Steve M.  We passed him on the out to Paulhenge so he must have ridden on to McDonalds. Everyone goes to the same place, Crossroads, but three decide to eat in under the air conditioning while the rest of the group eats at a lovely, covered patio outside.  It is interesting because the fan has smaller fans rotating and blowing on us.  And it is quite comfortable out there.  I am not hungry because of the pancakes and that is a disappointment.  I order scrambled eggs with toast because I know I will need fuel, but I wish I were hungry and felt I could eat one of the other selections.  Lesson learned.

 

We just finish lunch when the storm moves in.  At first we are going to brave it, but then the rain begins in earnest...not soft, gentle drops but hard, angry blobs of water pelting at full speed and angrily pummeling us.  We decide to wait it out on the covered front porch.  While there, Clint discovers an issue with his tire and changes it.  The first attempt is unsuccessful and the tube valve gets stuck. I have never seen tubes like this, bright colors and ultra thin. Luckily I have the multi tool I found as road treasure years and years ago with me.  Clint uses the pliers and a knife to remove the valve and the next insert is successful.  

 

By then the rain has passed and we head out crossing the second covered bridge at Versailles park: Busching Covered bridge built in 1885.  This bridge one can ride through and we do.  After that, the climbs begin.  The rain has stopped but the roads are wet with steam rising off of them.  As we climb, the sweat stands on my skin and does not seem to evaporate.  It is  hot and humid. Welcome to summer riding.

 

 We meet Steve M. at last store stop.  He has had an issue with his bike but it is now resolved.  He takes off ahead of the rest of us.  The last part of the ride is a blur as one rider becomes ill, cramping and vomiting.  With the constant stopping,  it is a race to get to the parking lot prior to the coming storm and we just make it as the wind begins to blow in earnest.  The rain begins to pelt down and I am thankful we are in because there would be no way to ride in this hard, blinding rain.  I assure the ill rider that it could happen to any of us.  That is part of riding.  But we finished, new roads with boats burning behind us.  And I look forward to doing this ride again.