Monday, June 14

I asked "What now?" and then now happened

I got lumped into a giant group text weeks before I left for the Trans-Sylvania Epic.  Le started it.  Something about a Trifecta SS ride... or a TrifecSSta... or SStrifecta... I don't recall.  June 12th.  It sounded mildly interesting.  I couldn't put more than half the phone numbers to a name.  The basic gist was to ride Rocky River, pedal over to Sherman Branch, hit a lap, scoot over to Purser Hulsey, complete a lap there.

I put this idea in the back of my head to deal with later.

As this past weekend approached,  I thought mebbe I was gonna get three days in Pisgah... but then that got squarshed.  Bill Nye had banged his knee up on the ride that clobbered my hand, so he wasn't too keen on long miles in the hills.  I had no excuse not to do the SStrifecta (or whatever).

Paying more attention to the texts now, I see that we'll actually be shuttling this to make it a point-to-point.  I guess that makes this better... although I still don't know exactly what I'm committing to... other than getting up at 5:30AM on a weekend to ride locally?

That alarm was harsh.  An unmotivated week of riding around an injury meant I'd been sleeping in, getting no fewer than nine hours every night (I mighta snuck a nap in once to boot).  Not how I planned on maximizing one of my last weeks off work, but you get what you get.

Check the weather, check the texts... the rain last night didn't affect any of the trails we were hitting and the chances of rain were a total toss up all day long.  I guess we're doing this, whatever "this" is.  Coffee, Pop Tarts, load the car, drive forty five minutes across town.  Get there and see which faces of the twelve invites showed up.  Jamie (sorta know), Seth and Roger (did not know), Bryan and Todd (totally know), and Le... the mastermind and also someone I've never ridden with, mostly outta fear of getting a total dick beating.  What a strange group.  Some racer boi spandex, some baggies, two full face helmets, a fanny pack, more high posts than droopers, two turgid forks... a peculiar bunch of single speeders... even for single speeders.

Head into RRT, probably considered the hardest trail in Charlotte.  I feel like I'm in a brain fog, the sun hardly getting through the clouds and tree cover.  The humidity is off the charts.
Always time for trail work tho.

At a stops to catch our breath (and drain sweat from our helmet pads), I ask someone to verify my mileage.

"I've got 8.5 so far..."


The bad news is my wheel sensor battery is ded.  That's also the good news.  I was feeling pretty terrible about feeling so tired after only four miles.  I feel the way I should after more than eight tho. 

Because I felt like mebbe I should know how far this ride will actually be, I go ahead and ask.

"Something close to fifty five miles.  Mebbe five hours or so."

At least I know what I agreed to now.  Slightly daunted but being that I turn fifty two this week, stoked to do a "ride your age in miles" kinda thing... without knowing that's what I'd be doing when I started this morning.

Finish the loop.  Grab two full bottles.  Eat.

SS road ride to Sherman Branch.  Knock out the eleven point something miles of trail, stop for water refills...

At least that's what the smart people do.  I don't.  Eat a slice of pizza and pour more sweat into the dirt.

Start the ride over to Purser...

"How far is it to the next trail?"

"Fifteen miles or so."


I'm looking down at my almost empty bottles and thinking about how I signed up for the Shenandoah Mountain 100 coming up in a few months... I can't think this is "hard" or else that's gonna seem impossible.  Dammit.

Roll into Purser and fortunately there's ice cold water available and only six miles to go.  I only bang my 780mm bars into a tree once in the Enchanted Forest and keep my pinky finger tucked in to avoid making it angry.

And like that, we're done.

Obvs stolen data since mine was all messed up.

So glad someone came up with a thing, and I did that thing.  That's the most sweat I've produced in a long time, and the most "road riding" on "roads" that I've done in some time.  Not really gonna need to share the road with dump trucks and semis and coal rollers and Fast and Furious wannabes again for awhile.

And 54.72 is more than the 52 years old that I'll be on Thursday(?) so mission accomplish.  A great time with a good group of Sick, Sick people.

Oof... and also Dr Mike and Bill Nye did convince me to leave the house and ride over to watch World Cup racing that night, so I can turn 60 this week and still be okay.  Looking forward to a four day work week and some time to let my hand heal back up before hitting the woods again.

1 comment:

RK said...

hoppy burp day, Rich.