"The summit is what drives us,
but the climb itself is
what matters."
Conrad Anker
I cannot tell you how very glad I am that someone reached into the archives of club centuries and dusted the Pottershop Century off. Thanks, JOHN PELLIGRINO, the someone who did this. And thanks to Fritz who took over captaining it when John was not able and adopted some of the changes John made to the route to decrease busy roads.
For those that may not know, Pottershop is not one, but a series of hills that used to assault people at the end of the traditional Old Kentucky Home Tour, back when it actually went to Bardstown and was a two day affair. Pottershop would pummel you near the end with ninety something miles in your legs. My understanding is that Stuart Prather was the one who originally located this road. I remember Mike "Sparky" Pitt saying he injured himself running one time on those hills. Steep descents are hard on running legs. I remember hearing, for I was not yet riding with the club then, that Packman, prior to the accident that left him paralyzed, dressed up as a devil chasing people up the hill with his pitchfork over and over. And I remember being on the road and seeing where Eddie Doerr, who was responsible for marking roads that year, had outlined where a cat had been hit and met his demise writing, "Poor Kitty." I remember Cheryl Brauner at the top of the first and steepest hill watching riders ascend. And I remember the first time I went to climb it, having driven to Bardstown just to do this and having run out of water. It was well over ninety that day and I did not make it. When I stopped, I paid my dues. A horsefly promptly bit me soundly on the rear end leaving a huge welt that itched and bothered me for days. I have never walked that hill since, but perhaps today?
Anyway, I look forward to riding these roads again. Frankly, I did not know if I would ever face Pottershop again. And as always, I wonder if I will be successful in making the climb. It always is rather surprising to me how one can build a hill into being more than what it is: a hill to be climbed and conquered. As we dream of it, it can become steeper, more difficult, and challenging to the point where, when you are successful conquering it, it is almost an anti-climax. A few days before the ride, listening to the weather, I assumed Fritz would have to cancel as there were predictions for storms and rain. But at the last minute, there is a reprieve and the weatherman says the rain will end prior to the ride start and won't return until late afternoon to evening.
Fritz emails that the ride is on and I am ready having prepared most things the night before. It is a smaller than normal group that arrives, maybe due to wet roads, possible rain, summer vacations, or fear of Pottershop, but it is a strong group. Fritz Kopatz, Sharon Jeter, Jerry Talley, Amelia Dauer, Thomas Nance, Larry Preble, Jon Wineland, Harley Wise, Bob Evancho, John Killebrew, Ed Scharfenberger, Keith Baldwin, Glenn Smith, Michael Kammenish, and John Dippold all arrive ready to ride.
Amelia and I ask Fritz if it is okay if we leave early, and we do getting about a half hour jump on the rest. We both feel this will make it easier on Fritz as he won't have to sweep at our slower pace all day though, of course, being Fritz he would do it and not complain. He's just a nice person. We talk of Paul Battle and how we wish he were with us even if he had only ridden to the first store stop and turned around. And we miss Bob Grable who has been a steady riding companion this year but was unable to ride today. I struggle with my glasses due to the humidity and finally end up taking them off for the first part of the ride.
Amelia and I are well matched pace wise and both bring our own set of memories of those parts of the course that mirror the old OKHT course. Interesting that we didn't know each other until well after the ride was defunct. Or I don't think that we did. Anyway, we spend the day together, sometimes talking, sometimes just riding at peace with each other's company on this road we are traveling.
While I was not there, from what I heard, others also had memories of the route. Jon Wineland and John Killebrew were riding together at the start. John shared that his father, who farmed after retiring from Dupont, had a farm near the route and John remembers fishing for bluegills in a pond and his dad cleaning and frying them. Later in the ride, the two still together, Jon stops to move a dinner plate sized snapping turtle out of the road using his bike pump to hurry it into the grass and safety. While he was performing this task, the fast group flew by him. He later caught up with John Killenbrew and John laughingly asked if he had stopped for turtle soup. Jon told him of the rescue and proudly related that he still had all his fingers. John Killenbrew recalled catching a turtle in the pond he used to fish in and how his dad used it to make turtle soup. John evidently was a bit squeamish at the idea of eating the turtle, but found that he actually thought it tasted good. So I suppose the turtle should consider itself lucky that John was on a bike and not carrying a fishing pole.
At the first store stop in Fairfield, Amelia and I arrive first only to be caught by the fast group. I tease them as they arrive asking what took them so long, as if it was not quite the accomplishment that they caught us that quickly when we had a half hour head start on them. I'm not sure if they all found it amusing, but I did. We fix Amelia's GPS and head back out, leaving the first group at the store stop. The second group had not yet arrived. I later learn that there was a sign Amelia and I missed at the stop that the others found quite amusing. On the ice lockers was a sign that read, "Don't Forge Ice." (the t on forget was missing).
Amelia and I both find that we are really enjoying riding these roads that we have not traversed for a number of years. In places the Catalpa blossoms line the sides of the road. There are long sweeping vistas filled with various shades of green, weathered barns, and houses. The orange day lilies are beginning their June parade and daisy's scatter the landscape. I also see the poison hemlock plant that seems to be taking over so many roadsides, though it does not appear as thick on these roads as it is on those I recently rode in Indiana. The roads go from being still wet to dry. Later there will be some busy roads that are not so scenic or nice or safe, but everyone gets by these roads safely. A couple of us wonder if there is not a work around that could be made taking off of the busier roads.
As we near Pottershop, Amelia recalls a OKHT ride when Raney, AKA Eleanor, Self was riding and how they parted ways and Raney got lost adding a few miles and at the end, when Amelia saw her come in, saying she just knew Amelia would catch her coming in behind her. We both talk of how we miss Raney being on the bike and how much fun she could be. I also learn that Amelia's people are from Bardstown and actually had a farm somewhere on Pottershop and some are laid to rest in the cemetery we pass following the climb.
And then we are there. Amelia climbs the first, steep hill on Pottershop as if it were flat. I lag behind just spinning but with my lungs feeling as if they would like to burst. Of course, as we climb, the clouds part and the sun comes out, but some of the climb is shaded. I had forgotten the opening at the top, but Amelia had not. It is as I remember it, however, in that it is really not the first hill that gets you. It is the ones that follow. I keep thinking we have climbed the last one only to find another. But in the end, while we long for the summit, it is not about the summit. It is about turning the pedals over and feeling your lungs and muscles working. It is about celebrating being alive and still strong enough to climb the hills and meet the challenges that a century ride with hills brings. And it is about friends, making them, keeping them, the people that share the roads and the sweat and all the things that happen along the way.
When we arrive at Wendy's, there is a group there already. As I enter, Mike Kamenish is coming out of the store walking with his back curved and hunched. I assume his back is hurting him, but he tells me he is walking that way because of the floor. And he is right. The entire floor is like an ice skating rink. It makes me wonder if there is a new cleaning agent restaurants are using as Dairy Queen was similar at the last ride though not quite as treacherous. Larry points out that it is a law suit waiting to happen and I think he is right. I find myself emulating Mike, walking hunched over like an ancient woman and holding on to walls and other objects just in case.
When I get up to order, the man taking the order is still mumbling about orders for Johns. It is only later that I truly catch on to the reason for his consternation. He struggles to spell my name and finally ends up spelling Milissa or something like that. I later learn that he became confused by John Killebrew, John Dippold, and Jon Wineland all ordered one after the other. When Mike Kammenish orders afterward and the man asks his name, Mike pipes up, "Well, it's not John." The Johns all stand guard to ensure they get the right lunch. Had I know, perhaps I could have told him my name was also John. It is, after all, easier to spell than Melissa.
Another group pulls in and Fritz is not with them. We learn that Fritz and Thomas went to the restaurant Thomas's wife's sister owns in Bardstown, "Fresh." The first group heads up but a few stay and leave with Amelia and I. We are not too far down the road before Thomas and Fritz catch us. By then the group that was with us has moved on and we will not see them until the third store stop. Thomas and I talk a bit about the overnight trip coming up, but of course we still have a few details to iron out. I do tell him I have made a minor alteration to my route changing one store stop and adding an additional store stop that I might need. We talk briefly about how we intend to make the stop at stores on the overnight a bit longer and to slow paces due to the toughness of the course.
It seems no time before we are at the last store stop. By that point, looking at the skies, I feel hopeful that we will get in with no rain. And I turn out to be right. Ten of us finish the ride together and while it is still early. Most of the others have left, but Jon Wineland remains in the parking lot. There is, of course, the chatting that happens in the parking lot following a good ride. I learn that Keith has a stent, something most of us did not know. I learn that it is the first time Fritz, and maybe a few others, have faced Pottershop. We talk a bit about John Pelligrino and how we miss him and hope he can ride with us again soon. It has been a good day. No dog was left behind, but many were missed. Come out and play!
Finishing Groups: (These vary a bit as two of the group of 3 signed in as solo finishers. This is based on who I was told actually finished as a group of 3. Since it was not a group of 5 it does not alter points in any way)
Ed Scharfenberger 2:40 group of 1
Jon Wineland 2:42 group of 1
John Dipold 2:44 group of 1
Sharon Jeter 2:47 group of 3
Jerry Talley 2:47 group of 3
John Kellebrew 2:47 group of 3
Larry Preble 3:07 group of 10
Bob Evancho 3:07 group of 10
Harley Wise 3:07 group of 10
Glenn Smith 3:07 group of 10
Keith Baldwin 3:07 group of 10
Thomas Nance 3:07 group of 10
Melissa Hall 3:07 group of 10
Michael Kammenish 3:07 group of 10
Amelia Dauer 3:07 group of 10
Fritz Kopatz 3:07 group of 10
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