"Feeling gratitude and not
expressing it is like wrapping
a present and not giving it."
William Ward
I am excited about this ride. I have not done it for years, perhaps ten years or more. Nobody seems to be positive about the first or last time it was on the TMD schedule. I am fairly certain it was never offered as a century without also being a stage.
Sometimes it seems we keep riding the same roads, the same courses, year after year without giving them a break and time to renew themselves. For some, that is great. There is a comfort in the familiar and in repetition. For others, not so much. While these roads will not be new to me, with my course memory and not having ridden them for years, they will seem new and I am looking forward to it. I am grateful to Bob for pulling this one out of archives, taking the time to drive it, and then putting it on the schedule. While I know it is not aimed at me specifically, it still feels like a gift.
We are doing the Carefree Century, in my opinion the crowning century achievement of Cathy Hill and Kirk Roggencamp. Per an email from Cathy to Bob, they came up with the route following a paid ride they did in Derby. One day they parked in the truck stop and took off riding. Part of the route had to be re-routed due to store issues leading to the present day route. I suspect that was following the year when it was extremely hot out and we got to the third store stop, out of water and thirsty, only to find it was closed and there was no where to refuel or to fill water bottles that were already dry. Anyway, it will be nice to revisit the route despite knowing that it contains climb after climb. I've often thought that it would be a wonderful out and back course because of the beauty of the first half of the ride, but I change my mind this time round. I just like this route, all except the slog through Tell City, and it is short and one of those, "You have to eat somewhere if you're riding a century" roads.
It is a drive to the ride start and I wonder how many will show. It is supposed to be or be near 90 degrees: the first truly hot day of the year. And the humidity is supposed to ramp up. Plus, there is the price of gas, the closed expressway, and the distance to the start. Bob said he thinks he may get 9, but he ends up with 17 riders: Jon Wineland, Vince Livingston, Jeremiah Westendorf, Dave King, Zach Colman, Thomas Nance, John Dippold, Fritz Kopatz, Robert Barrett, Mike Kamenish, Stephen Meredith, Steve Rice, Glenn Smith, Larry Preble, Joel Gano, Bob, and me. Steve Meredith has just completed two six hundred K brevets over the prior two week-ends. Dave King completed a six hundred K last week-end. I am rather surprised to see them, but happy they are here. Again the only woman. I believe Jon Wineland drove the longest distance: one and one half hour to get there.
Briefly I think of other great centuries that used to grace the TMD schedule that required long commutes: the Green River Century is Cambellsville, Kentucky that Jim "Grizzly" Moore used to host and "Best of the Bluegrass," another Kirk and Cathy route that was, I believe, last hosted by Carla "Stormy" Dearing. (I know Carla married but don't know if she retained her last name or changed it). Some of the old centuries were wonderful routes but somehow they fell by the wayside. Some, like Honest Abe, fell for a reason such as traffic. We are also doing the Lawrenceburg Loop this year, one we have not ridden for quite some time. Thanks, Dave, looking forward to it.
When I retire it seems the Mad Dogs will become a boys club. There are women that are strong enough to join or replace me and ride for a number of years, such as Sharon last year (who I could not come close to keeping up with), but they just seem to have no interest. Perhaps, as Steve Rice once said when I was speculating about why more women don't ride distance, "They have better sense." But hopefully I can hang on for a few more years. Time will tell. No need to develop good sense at this point in my life I suppose. Meanwhile I remain grateful of their acceptance of me since I am almost inevitably at the back of the pack anymore. The men have all be so encouraging despite my concerns about the slowness and weakness that age inevitably brings to all of us.
At the start there is some concern about the parking and whether we would be okay or would come back to find our cars had been towed, but we end up being okay. (At least my car was there waiting at the end). After giving Bob grief about this and anything else we can come up with (including a long introduction discourse;-), we head out on our adventure. Most of the riders have never ridden these roads. They are in for a treat. Bob has warned them about the course and not heading out too fast as the hills are relentless all the way through. I think everyone listened because most of them will still be there when Bob and I reach the first store stop in Derby.
The hills begin and they really don't stop much during the ride. There are a few flatter sections where one can fly, but relatively few. There are, however, also some delicious downhills and I have to remind myself of my own advice to use caution on the descents one is unfamiliar with, in this case all of them. For a moment I find myself thinking about what would happen with a sudden front puncture, but I quickly drive that from my mind knowing how it can spoil an otherwise great descent. Instead I concentrate on turns, how to enter them, weighting my pedal (thank you, Eddie Doerr, I still remember your admonishments on this), and all the other details that help to keep me safe. Cycling is, without a doubt, a dangerous sport, but so is life. We all chose our risks and then live with them.
Bob and I are soon at the back by ourselves only to come upon one of the breath taking Ohio River overlooks where a group has stopped to take photos. They quickly re-pass us, however, leaving us trailing far behind. I am determined to ride conservatively and enjoy the day rather than suffering and wondering about my ability to finish the hills on 62. I truly hope Bob is okay with this. I can only go by what people say, and some will say they don't mind just to be polite, but I think Bob was telling the truth. I have no trouble doing the climbs, but I am very slow on steep climbs anymore. The weight to strength ratio just is not there. But, I remind myself, it is NOT a race. And I am grateful I can still climb. My legs always did whine a bit and they will do so today. I guess it is good to know some things never change.
The store comes back to me when we arrive. It is quite well stocked and gives the feeling of being from times past. The woman manning the cash register could not have been friendlier adding another smile to a day already filled with smiling faces. There are chairs in front of the store and a covered shelter next to the store. It is across the street from the bar I remember stopping at one of the first times this century was offered. The bar appears to still be in business, but does not appear to be open this early.
Since I am already the slowest on this ride, I don't stop to take photos, but I can't help thinking that this would be a nice century to ride alone and just meander along slowly and stopping often to take photos. I am trying to see everything in case it is the last time I pass this way, but I know that I am missing as much as I take in. I anticipate keeping Bob out on the road longer than he would be otherwise though I DID offer to start early and he declined. The views of the river, the orange day lilies, AKA ditch lilies, that line the road, the daisies, so bright and cheerful, scattered randomly here and there along our way, and the beginning of the black eyed Susan's grace my eyes and make my heart sing and ache. For it is already June. Where does time go?
I also think, and mention to Bob, that this course would likely be spectacular in the fall. I love it when we get to the locks and Cannelton. We pass so many interesting things. On the right of the road, away from the river, we pass a tall rock with three cinder blocks: one is painted white, one red, and one blue. I wonder if it is to mark flooding somehow. There is a sign at one point that shows how high the river was various years when it flooded. I keep thinking how much I am missing as I ride, and not because I am incessantly chattering as is sometimes the case. (Yes, yes, I know that is hard to believe but it is true;-)
Bob tells me to pick where we eat. I originally say DQ but then notice a couple of bikes at Arby's. It turns out to be Dave King and Steve Rice. Steve tells me there are a few that have had lunch and gone, but not the majority. After Dave and Steve leave, we see the others pass while we are eating. We don't rush, finish our meal, and head back out. The clouds are gone. It is now almost pure sunshine, and the heat ramps up with the passing of the clouds. We also have mostly a tail wind which is great for pace, but not so great for heat reduction. Still, neither Bob nor I are normally particularly sensitive to heat as some have the misfortune to be. I don't ride as well in heat as I did when younger, but it does not typically bring me to my knees.
Of course, like most centuries, the lunch stop is followed by a climb that makes one wish one had eaten just a bit less, but that thought fades. Close to the third store stop, we come upon two riders, one of whom is having heat issues. I tell them I am going to get to the top of the climb before stopping, but once there I see everyone has resumed. The pace, however, has slowed even more and I find myself pulling ahead with Larry leaving Bob and another in the back. Larry catches up with me and we decide to go to the store and wait there. I am doing fine, but I am definitely thirsty. Larry maybe even more so as he gave up half of a water bottle when he stopped to help. It will not do Bob or anyone else any good if we also begin to have issues.
Now if you have ever bonked on a ride, be it due to heat or another issue, you know it can difficult to determine the fine line that separates stupidity from grit, and a line that only you, the rider, can determine. If your difficult is from heat and you lapse into heat exhaustion, my understanding is that you become more prone to recurrences of the same. And if you have ridden much, you HAVE bonked. If you have never bonked, you just haven't ridden enough. Sometimes you know what causes it and other times not, but it is certainly an unpleasant experience when the tank runs dry and you have miles to go to reach your final destination.
And when you have bonked, you probably felt embarrassed. I know I have in the past, despite the fact there is no reason to feel embarrassment. If you finish, you need to tell yourself that you had the courage to start and the courage to finish, and the courage to finish when you are bonking and hurting is nothing to look down upon. The same, however, with having the courage not to finish when it is not in your best interest phonically to continue. Indeed, that may take even greater courage. But we have all been there and felt each pedal stroke feeling as if were trying to drag a thousand pound gorilla behind us.
When we reach the store, Glenn is there. Glenn, Larry, and I leave together. Bob has told us to go on without him, and while I feel a bit of guilt doing so, I still leave. Bob just doesn't know what the other rider, who is on the line, will choose to do or how long it may be. So Bob, and Larry for stopping, embody the Mad Dog motto, "No dog left behind." I tell Larry and Glenn to please not wait for me as I will be slow on these last hills one of which is about two miles long and the other a mile and a half, but each time I see them stop and wait. And we finish together. Fritz is waiting in case Bob needs assistance. But Bob doesn't. They finish together despite the hills and the heat.
Fritz waiting when I am sure he is tired and has other things he would rather be doing (like taking a shower to wash off the road and the sweat) makes me think again how grateful I am for these people I ride with, people that will hang back with a rider who is struggling, as we all have done before if we have ridden for any amount of time. People who take the time to plan and revive a route that is so beautiful in places that it can bring a tear of joy to the eye and makes me realize God's greatness. Gratitude for these men who never complain (at least to me) about my slowness and go out of their way to assure me I am welcome to ride with them when I know I keep them out on the road longer than they might like to be. And so, I tell each and every one of you that have ridden or that ride in the tour, thank you. You guys rock.....almost as much as bicycles and new roads;-) Thanks, Bob, to you particularly again for pulling this one out of the dust bin and making it live again. I am so blessed to ride with all.
Finishers were as follows:
Jon Wineland Group of 1 Finish Time: 3:02 p.m.
Vince Livingston Group of 1 Finish Time: 3:09
Jeremiah Westendorf Group of 1 Finish Time: 3:15
Dave King Group of 7 Finish time 3:48
Zach Coleman Group of 7
Thomas Nance Group of 7
John Dippold Group of 7
Fritz Kopatz Group of 7
Robert Barrett Group of 7
Michael Kamenish Group of 7
Stephen Meredith Group of 1 Finish time 4:03
Steve Rice Group of 1 Finish time: 4:10
Glenn Smith Group of 3 Finish time: 4:20
Melissa Hall Group of 3
Larry Preble Group of 3
Bob Grable: Group of 2 Finish time: 4:54
Joel Gano Group of 2
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