I, Dubstoevsky, took it upon myself to attend both events, to keep an eye on the Badger, to welcome him to Shad territory, and simply to BE in the presence of cycling Royalty. And also to be able to say "One day, the great Bernard Hinault rode with Dubstoevsky."
Bernard Hinault, Sole Proprietor, the Woo October 12, 2016 |
Before dinner was fully underway, and before the person for whom the chair next to him was reserved had arrived, I took the opportunity to sit down, bid him a fond welcome, exchange a few snarls, and bump paws. Turns out, because he doesn't speak English, he didn't fully grasp what I said nor, I suppose, could he appreciate the historic moment that saw Dubstoevsky and the Badger squaring off across a linen napkin and a glass of ice water. Still, I regaled him and he smiled broadly and I took that as a good sign, even though he might have been thinking "I will crush this fake Russian shad clown tomorrow."
But no. Au contraire. The charity group ride is a congenial event, sans competition. Attacks are discouraged. The point is to engage in, and manifest the irie vibe of, the Bicycling Community in general, and the Woo in particular. C'est bon.
The morning of the ride dawned overcast and vaguely humid. The low-slung gray sky seemed weighty with moisture and chill. 9:00 AM Bikes for Life at Webster Sq. A parking lot of riders in full color regalia, many Hinault replica jerseys (I-self included), probably three times as many men as women riders. The vibe is distinctly relaxed.
Then the Badger arrives and a mini buzz percolates through the gathered mass of cyclists. He goes inside the shop and emerges ten minutes or so later dressed to ride. His grinning face is immensely warm and charming. I want to ask him, where's a good place to go in Brittany? what's his favorite part of the USA? what happened during the 1986 Tour with LeMond?
But I don't. Instead, I listen to a few words by the event organizer who has gathered everyone around in a circle and who urges everyone to relax, enjoy the day, share space at the front, be safe, etc.
Setting the tone |
Then the Man himself speaks though it's evident he's not one for making speeches. He says something like "Have a great ride today, and let's hope no one falls over."
Allez! |
And we're off. A long colorful train winding westward toward Auburn. The sun starts burning through the cloud cover and the day begins warming perceptively. After much deliberation about what to wear, I've nailed it. I left from Team Shad HQ wearing a sleeveless windbreaker, but I doff that in the parking lot before setting out. The temperature is actually perfect, low 60s, no wind to speak of.
With this many cyclists, we control the road. In just a couple miles, we're rolling through the 'suburbs,' neighborhoods that form the transition to the more rural byways and the in-between-town connector roads. We have a motorcycle escort. In Leicester, where we arrive soon enough, we pick up a police escort.
I cruise along, alone in my head, an imagined halo of achievement garlanding my Specialized Prevail helmet. Except paying close attention to the dynamics of the peloton is a must; how mortifying to lose your concentration for a moment, touch someone's wheel, and cause a crash!
Nothing of the sort happens. In fact, increasingly comfortable in the middle of the pack, I bide my time knowingly, waiting for the climb up Mannville St toward Kettle Brook reservoirs and route 56. That's the climb for me. I make my move on Chapel St and move toward the front so that, when the Mannville climb starts, I'm in the front twenty riders, including the Badger.
Bernard Hinault on the Mannville St Climb |
Dubstoevsky riding with the Badger Mannville St Climb |
These are my roads now. This is Shad Territory. The Mighty Hinault may have won EVERY MAJOR RACE EVER, may have conquered every Alp in France, but he's not besting Dubstoevsky in Shad Land, so I launch off the front and put things to right. Phil and Paul have the call (in my head):
Phil: There goes Dubstoevsky! He's having a go of it! Rather cheeky.
Paul: Yes he is, Phil. These are roads that he calls his own. He knows them in and out. The Badger is going to have to dig in his claws now to match Dubstoevsky's acceleration.
Phil: That's true, Paul. And if I know Bernard Hinault, he will not let Dubstoevsky open a gap.
Paul: No he won't Phil, and here he comes now. He does not look happy.
The peloton coming The Badger 2nd from left |
Yes, the peloton comes for Dubstoevsky, that's the natural order of things. And continues onward, sweeping it all up - autumn leaves, tarmac, landscape, and me.
On two occasions during the day I caught flashes of Hinault descending at the front of the group and his posture was arresting, like a hurtling block of lean granite, with shoulders. There was something distinct about his form, about the way he held himself; without being able to adequately say why, you could just tell he was a professional cyclist. Flashes of swagger and certainty, the slashing hammer of dominance unquestioned.
Here's something to consider. He is one of two cyclists (Alberto Contador the other) who has won each Grand Tour more than once. Grand Tours! The Vuelta. The Giro. And the Tour de France. Mon dieu.
And today he rode with Dubstoevksy.
The Five time Tour de France champion, Bernard Hinault (L) with Dubstoevsky (R) |
No comments:
Post a Comment