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Two thirds of Team Shad
Tour de Heifer
Sunday, June 8, 2014 |
The fourth iteration of the Tour de Heifer out of Brattleboro, Vermont. Sunday, June 8. A big booming sky of sun and blue, a perfect day for cycling. Better be in shape! This isn't a race, it's a course upon which you challenge yourself. The challenge? Climbing! Huge climbs, relentless climbs, stupid steep inclines. Up Up and Away!
Team Shad was there, albeit without the third cog, Master I-Ward whose presence was excused due to family matters. The Virginian, back in the good graces of the team after the insubordination at the Rasputitsa, was early to the shaggy field where the team cars and cyclists gathered in the rough, dew-soaked grass. I showed up shortly thereafter. Suggested start time was 8:00 but, as it was not a bunch start, riders could set out at their own time. Knowing the day would be hot our goal was to start by 7:30. We'd get a jump on the heat and, who knows, maybe the other riders as well.
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7:00 AM
Lilac Ridge Farm |
And we would have started by 7:30 if The Virginian, uncharacteristically, hadn't locked his keys in his car. That development set us back ten minutes or so while he made calls for back-up. Once arrangements were made for someone to come with a spare key and leave it under the left front wheel, we were off.
Despite the sense of controversy that my blog entry
Rasputitsa At Last: The Narrative engendered vis a vis my pique at The Virginian's predilection for attacking when the team strategy doesn't call for it, and for various other (probably imagined) transgressions, I hereby declare that The Virginian, aka Nut (short for Wingnut; the origin of that moniker deserves its own telling another time), is, in every sense, a rock solid teammate, a loyal wing man, and a dogged, unflappable cyclist. While Team Shad's brass considered fining, suspending, even firing him following The Rasp, cooler heads prevailed and Nut remained on the squad. Praise Jah for that.
It's worth contrasting these two organized Vermont rides briefly. The Rasputitsa, approximately 47 miles, takes place in mid April in the Northeast Kingdom and its panache comes from "mud season," that time of the spring when the dirt roads thaw and everything becomes soft, spongy, mucky. Snow lingers in places, icy mountain side run-offs force riders from their bikes, rain, snow, and hail all fell during the ride. Plus, it's a timed race with an official start, declared winners, a Lantern Rouge.
The Tour de Heifer, on the other hand, takes place in early June, the month that produces arguably New England's finest weather. This event is not a race, it's a loosely-supported ride with an organized lunch stop, intermittent water stations, and an air of laid-backness that runs counter to competitive cycling. Longer than The Rasp at 62 miles, the Tour de Heifer proved to be, when all was said and done, harder. Harder owing mostly to the amount of climbing. In fact, though my phone's battery died 3/4s of the way through and I wasn't able to track the entire ride by Strava, after 48 miles we'd climbed 5,965 feet already. I don't recall longer or harder climbs during the Rasputitsa.
In not having the full compliment of shad for the ride, we lacked a navigator, a voice of reason to reign in the ever full-steam-ahead Shaddy Dub and the I'm Easy Virginian. Consequently, at the five mile point we were feeling so good and cruising along at such a zippy pace that we missed the right turn onto Lee Rd. A mile or so later the road came to a T, we stopped and checked the cue sheet and the map and promptly misinterpreted both. We took a left and rode for a couple miles until we came to another T, this time with rt. 5. At that point we realized that we'd done something wrong and, groaning, returned the way we came. Eventually, after some 8 extra miles on pavement, we rejoined the course. And at the perfect spot, too.
"Guilford Center Rd forks left and becomes Sweet Pond RD 10.66 mi"
Sweet Pond Rd was sweet indeed! Several miles of tightly packed & slightly damp dirt road under forest canopy. Primordial! The sun explodes every dewy surface into diamondy sparkle, and dapples the road face with limb and trunk silhouettes. We sail along drifting in and out of quiet reveries. We know this stretch is long and comes to an end at a spot we're familiar with so we don't worry about missing a turn. We just zoom.
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At the base of Sweet Pond Rd
After an awesome downhill run |
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Meditation Reservoir
Fresh off of Sweet Pond Rd |
Conditions are stellar. Just the perfect dampness to the roads, they're all well-packed, not even that washboarded. And the air is brilliant! Cool, clean, crisp. You want to yell out loud it feels so good streaming over your body. And the sun, rising throughout the day, warming warming warming so that by late morning it's striking more directly from above and you get hot quickly in its sun wash. But it too is sharp and clean and you feel joy that you're riding through such sun-drenched landscapes.
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| The Virginian getting it going early on |
On the great climb up Packers Corner you have plenty of time to consider such things as the climb goes up and up and up. At a water stop later on I overheard one of the volunteers say to a rider that he preferred the short steep climbs to the long drawn out grinds. I'm the opposite. I relish the relentless ascent. At my present level of fitness, and being twenty pounds lighter than I've ever been during a season, I can get out of the saddle and slip into a steady cadence that I can maintain for a long time going up. This gives me a huge advantage. Of course it's always the bigger guys laboring up the hill that I pass and most of them have no rhythm at all. They lug their thighs up and down, heave their shoulders, pull at the handle bars as if they could pull themselves up the hill.
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| Climbing Packers Corner Rd |
In my richly absurd imagination, I am engaged in a game of hunter and prey. There are rabbits up the road. The slopes are teaming with them. Easy pickings. The key thing about hunting rabbits is that you must make sure that you have utterly dispatch your prey. You must devastate them, leave them quivering and cowering as you ride away from them and out of sight. If you don't do this? If you leave behind a wounded prey, do you know what happens? You become the hunted. You become the prey. Never take chances.
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Setting the pace
The Virginian in arrears
Thinking about becoming the hunter |
But today the vibe is positively fraternal and as my imagination returns to reality, the rabbit I'd ridden up to with the intention of dispatching turns into a mellow, jolly-faced dude I nod to and exchange pleasantries with. One guy in a Ben & Jerry's jersey we passed three times; once within the first couple miles, a second time after we got lost and rejoined; and the third time after we'd taken a tiny detour to explore a nearby reservoir. Each time we greeted each other civilly and continued on at our own paces.
The Rasp was different. It was every shad for himself that day and I took pleasure at the expense of those herring I left flapping ineffectual tails in my wake.
After 28 or so miles (because of our 'detour' our odometer was no longer in sync with the cue sheet) and after an absolutely delightful ride north along the Green River, we came to the lunch stop. Watermelon wedges and a Vermont beef stick. I mix organic green tea in with a half a bottle of water, yum! And get back on it. Actually, up it. Up Jacksonville Stage Rd for a good long steep way. Immediately glad I didn't opt for the turkey sandwich.
End of Part I
Go to Part II
Ride Summary: 66.88 miles (107 K), 12.4 mph, 5 hours and change. 5,965 feet elevation.
Strava partial details.
