Steve Montgomery's Lexington LeRoy Century

"God give me hills to climb,

And strength for climbing!"

Arthur Guitermen 

 

It is going to be a great day for a ride.  The weather has turned unseasonable cool,  the skies are overcast, but it is still warm enough for just shorts and a jersey.  The course is one I have not ridden for a few years, a course I  put together in honor of an old friend, Steve Montgomery, who wanted a ride that went through Bethlehem but where lunch was at LeRoy's in Lexington.  Unfortunately, he no longer rides, but  this route will always bring him back to my mind. Of course, that was back when LeRoy still owned LeRoy's.  Now it is owned by others and, unfortunately, has changed.  LeRoy and Bernice kept the store neat as a pin.  The new owners,  not so much.   Indeed, I debated putting this century on because of the changes, but decided it would be okay.  I have done too much curb side dining to be too particular.  If you are going to ride, you have to eat.

 

And so, off I go to the ride start.  I know two are coming, but I also know it will be a small crowd.  It is not a tour stage and only the tour stages draw large crowds of riders. In some ways, I prefer that.  It is rather nice when people take a bit of time on a century to talk and tend to stay together at least part of the time. I smile inwardly thinking of Lynn Roberts and his words after a century where we went less than 14.  At the end he said something to the effect that he did not know you could do a century and still feel so good at the end.  Pace and route, do matter.  As I remember it, that route was a medium in difficulty but it was a long time ago and that route went defunct as the middle store stop went out of business.  Today's route a bit more challenging hill wise.

 

"To everything there is a season." (Ecclesiastes).  There are times to ride hard and times to ride at an easy  pace.  I smile when Mike "Sparky" Pitt comes to mind remembering him talking about a pace line on a ride and telling me there was nobody's butt he wanted to look at that long.  With the challenging hills, I hope for a moderate pace:  not snail like but also not where I feel like dying at the end.  And it happens.  There are hills, wonderful for training and for the scenery they bestow, and for today I have the strength to climb  despite issuing a disclaimer at the start that there was one I just might end up walking.  

 

Those who are coming are capable riders and are not whiners.  (They leave that for me;-)  Chris Quirey also shows, and I know he also is strong and competent.  It is a nice mix with two extremely strong climbers and two of us who are more moderate in our pace.  There is Jon Wineland, Steve Meredith, Chris Quirey, and myself.  Yet neither of the two stronger riders are the kind who are impatient riding a bit more slowly than is their norm or uncomfortable with going ahead.  One problem I have run across as an older, slower ride captain is that some people feel they must stay back with me despite my assurances that I am fine and they should go ahead.  This can be miserable for both as I try to go faster than I should so as not to be a burden and they go slower than they want to go or are comfortable going, particularly if they have somewhere to be after the ride.  

 

This is really not a good course for a first century for most people. (says she who did the Old Kentucky Home 102 Time Trial as her first century;-)  The store stops are oddly spaced and it is quite hilly, particularly the last third of the course with the climb out of Bethlehem and the climb into Charlestown on Tunnel Mill and then all the short, steep climbs back to Henryville that seem unrelenting to tired legs. Today this concern is not an issue.  Yes, anyone can have an issue, mechanical or physical, that impairs their ability to finish, particularly in the heat of summer,  but barring anything unforeseen and unpreventable, it won't be this strong group who are all seasoned.

 

The first climb in a moderate one up Liberty Knob and then it is off to Flatwood.  The irony of the name does not escape me, for Flatwood has quite a nice little climb on it, but I do love the road though hate it that a house or two have gone up that block what was  once a wonderful view.   Everyone seems to be content to be out here, on their bikes, taking in the green while it is still here and, in places, vibrant.  Indeed I am shocked a bit further on the ride when I note a corn field that is ready for harvesting, stalks and leaves withered and brown, some ears facing downward.  I then notice some of the soybean fields are browning around the edges.  But most or the corn or soybeans still are far from being ripe for the harvest.  I know what is coming:  fall. 

As always, fall will be beautiful.  As always, my legs, despite still being strong, will push the pedals slower and slower.  Speed will being to be too much of an effort despite the cooler temperatures.  There will be chilly mornings and warmer afternoons.  Jackets, arm warmers, and leg warmers will begin to appear.  I will pull out my work gloves to put over my short finger gloves.  But not yet.  Soon, but not yet.  I think that I wish it is a beautiful fall.  Still rather morbid from all the loss, I realize that every season could be last and I want to soak them up inside my heart.  I have been so privileged to experience so many seasons and so many personalities on the bike.  I don't take this lightly or without being grateful. This year the retired group has had most of their rides on Wednesdays, which often don't work well for me, but I am grateful for the days I could participate.

After the first store stop we continue to Lexington where we sit outside at a picnic table eating our lunches.  Flies and yellow jackets abound,  but we remain outside despite their constant interference.  A few jokes and stories are told, and then it is back on the bike heading toward Bethlehem and the worst of the climbs.  I find that neither Chris nor Steve have climbed out of Bethlehem in this direction.  Jon thinks it is the hardest way to climb out.  I think I agree.  I grin thinking of Paul on an earlier ride this year where we climbed out the way we normally enter.  He griped the entire way yet never faltered in pushing the pedals.  As  I pointed out to him, when a group of us did the Bethlehem Century in the spring, a group of young men were at the top of the climb resting from their exertions.  Paul and Mike, in their seventies, did not rest nor did the rest of us, all in our sixties I believe.  Before my world crashed yet again.  Before  I struggled back onto my knees trying to stand once again.

We descend the hill into Bethlehem that we  normally climb out on and I realize I forgot to warn Chris that the road the route is plotted on was taken over by the quarry and a new road was built a few years ago.  Google Maps just has not yet caught up with the changes.  Sure enough, I come upon Jon stopped waiting for Chris.  I text him to head back this way and shortly thereafter here he comes. I  get to the new turn just in time to see Steve riding off in the wrong direction.  He hears me and turns around, and we are together until the climb when Jon and Chris leave us as if we are standing still.  But I do not walk.  Nobody walks.  And I realize the coolers temperatures have made the climb much easier than  it normally seems.  Still, it is not the last climb.  There will be Tunnel Mill and then a series of short but constant climbs between Charlestown and Henryville.

Still, while my legs are complaining at the demands I have placed upon them, they are not screaming at me to stop.  And I know that they grow stronger, hopefully strong enough to last the fall riding season before I largely place the bike aside in order to hike.   Jon and Chris are in the parking lot when Steve and I pull in and the ride is complete, somewhere between 104 and 105 miles at a pleasant pace.  I am tired, but not exhausted.  Perhaps, tonight, sadness will not haunt me as I continue to climb away from grief and self pity.  Truly, I am blessed.  Blessed with friends, blessed with health, blessed with bicycles.  God, help me to count my blessings and not my deficits.