Back on the Paved Roads

The D2R2 is always a welcomed event at the end of the summer, a chance to get off the pavement and into rougher terrain. And yet the abrupt transition from pavement to gravel, including the shift to a slightly heavier bike (in my case, the Crux Elite cyclocross rig vs the now-well-used-but-still-dependable Allez Comp racing bike), is always a little challenging.

But it's only for one day because while the D2R2 sort of marks the end of summer, it also serves as the harbinger of autumn - and autumn road riding with its cooler temperatures (generally) and incipient psychedelic foliage is ever a joy. Since the D2R2 10 days ago, I've returned to the tarmac and enjoyed several rides, including a spirited Monday night ramble with the Barney's Bikes guys last night (August 31).

Indeed, yesterday was hot and that may have limited the number of riders on the evening group ride; earlier this summer there'd been upwards of two dozen and more but last night we were probably around 15 in number. Not having ridden in a few days, I was fresh and eager to get the blood pumping and the heart firing. That I did.

Regardless of how I'm feeling, I try to stay toward the front of these rides, try to keep up with the better, stronger, younger riders (of which more than half the group usually fits that description). On good days, I'm right there with them; on off nights, I labor mightily but get dropped.

Last night, I jumped away with three other guys on the uphill run to the reservoir, even managing to hold the wheel of the first place guy as we hammered up the slight but considerable incline to the beginning of the long freshly-paved shoreline wrap-around. My advantage, if I have one, is climbing. Smaller than most of the other guys, I can generally keep a steady pace on the climbs, even if it's not super fast, while other guys labor and lose momentum. But in the flats, particularly on long, moderately rolling runs, I cannot generate the necessary power to hang with the powerhouses.

As was the case last night. After my (self)-impressive wheel-shadowing up to the reservoir, our foursome revved up and, despite my best effort, fairly quickly became a threesome. I brought up the rear about thirty yards behind.

Pulling away from Dubstoevsky

I enjoy the Monday night group rides, though I haven't really bonded with anyone other than Peter, the organizer and the owner of Barney's. Thankfully, the competitive spirit seems to be all in good fun, no one taking themselves too seriously, so you can challenge each other and not have the testosterone flare into an angry thing. Just a chance to test yourself against others.

Plus, I push myself harder when riding with others. Not that my solo rides are easy or that I cop a lazy attitude toward them - it's just that there's something about trying to hold the wheel of someone storming uphill at 16 or 17 mphs that pushes the body to give the extra oomph and thrust. It's a healthy thing.

In addition to last night's ride, I've done three other solo jaunts since the D2R2, two of which included the Cat 4 Worcester Airport climb (another stretch of sweet new tarmac, black and smooth and flawless).

Nearing the top of the Airport Climb

It's been a pretty dry summer, perfect days for cycling but not so perfect for the water supply. Here are a couple shots of one of the Kettle Brook Reservoirs, taken August 27th.

Kettle Brook, looking north

Same reservoir, looking south

The Holden Reservoir isn't quite as low. I snapped the following pictures last night as I trailed after the leading three.

Holden Reservoir, Monday night August 31

Holden Reservoir, looking south