Travel day, into the Green Mountain State, north toward the Northeast Kingdom, toward the staging grounds for the Rasputitsa. But before all mental and spiritual energy lasers in on the race, another quixotic adventure comes first, the hunt for the holy grail of beer, the Heady Topper, that elusive IP brewed in Waterbury and not widely distributed. It's impossible to procure beyond a 50 mile radius (or less) of the Alchemist Brewery. However, with Friday delivery schedule in hand, I flogged the Team Shad car north with abandon, determined to arrive in Heady Land before all the day's offerings were gone.
Cruel fate presented itself at the first stop, the Sunflower Cooperative (or something like that). I pulled into the parking lot around 11:30 and saw a dude putting a four pack of the Topper into the trunk of his car. But when I went inside I was dealt a blow - all the Topper was gone!
Low grade panic began to set in. What if I were too late? What if I'd miscalculated and detoured all this way to Heady Land in vain? I shuddered, rushed for the car, backed up at high speed and, in a shower of gravel and dust, sped north on rt. 100 toward the next option.
Heady in the Window
That proved to be the Cold Hollow Cider Mill and, OMG, there it was, the Topper! But a limit to one 4 pack per person. Done. The success proved stimulating and off I went to Stowe to check some other locations. I didn't have to go further than the Mountain Cheese & Wine Shop. There, a very friendly woman overseeing a shop well-stocked with fine cheeses and excellent wines, pointed out the Heady Topper at the bottom of the beer cooler.
"What's my limit?" I asked, overjoyed by finding another batch.
"Well," she said "Normally it's two 4 packs per person but it seems like it's going to be slow around here so if you want to get a whole case, you're welcome to it."
Ka-CHING! Sold!
One more stop after that yielded one additional four pack and, coolers laden, I pointed the team car east toward Lyndon.
The Team Car in front of room #9
Got to Lyndon by 2:30 and found the classically timeless Lyndon Motor Lodge. As luck would have it, there had been a cancellation so a second room was available. I quickly reserved it for the Virginian so now both Shad riders have their own accommodations.
Then it was off to check out the registration area, the departure zone, and the course, at least some of it. Everything was easy to find and the vibes were good along the road. Not to mention that it was a stellar day, clear and bright and dry.
With the Niceness!
Now, hunkered down at the Lyndon Motor Lodge, the internet connection is dodgy and it's getting late and time to turn in for the night. Tomorrow, the Big Race!
Forecast for race day, East Burke, VT, as of Wednesday night, April 13
It's fitting that following an exceedingly mild el nino winter, this year's Rasputitsa is shaping up to be mild as well with lots of sun and temps in the 60s. At least that's the forecast just three and a half days before race day.
Team Shad welcomes this development. Mud & cold, raw overcast skies, rain & snow, these are not ideal conditions for Team Shad, despite the propensity of our namesake herring to favor cold ocean depths. Indeed, following a Friday that's also forecast to be sunny and clear, the course might possibly be in ideal shape on Saturday.
As for the squad, we're a carefully chosen, tight knit unit of two. Lacking the relentless physicality of youth, we must employ instead guile and karma, stealth and meditation. To state the obvious, we lack numbers. But we have many years of cycling experience between us and our intentions are pure so we are confident in a solid showing.
Typical pre-race headquarters established at the Lyndon Motor Lodge, strategically close to the race start yet also bounteous in luxury for the riders. For example, each rider gets his own bed (one's a queen, the other's a twin. I.e. the beds.). And there's a bathroom. And hot water. Perfection.
Beaver log, in the woods of Shutesbury
You know, they say that the American beaver is one helluva tenacious and indomitable creature, a tireless, determined character that somehow also seems to possess a sense of humor, like, hey, check me out, I just chewed down a maple tree, heh heh heh. There's something both admirable and laughable about them.
Just this past Sunday on our last training ride, the Virginian and I were reminded of this when the forest road we were riding along devolved rather abruptly into a babbling river fed by an overflowing beaver pond, and became impassable. In the forest around the trail lay plenty of evidence of beavers. Once while kayaking with DS Mawgs a decade ago, he and I came upon some fresh, beaver-gnawed twigs and we took a few as souvenirs. We called them "beaver sticks." What the Virginian and I saw scattered about were not beaver sticks but beaver LOGS. And it occurred me then - I must strive to ride with beaver indefatigability (intentional sic). I must gnaw the obstacle patiently and within my means until I prevail.
Practical Notes
Layering. With the possibility of nice mild weather, now I have to pack for every possibility, not just for "cold, wet, and crappy." Now, nuance is involved. Will it be cold at 9:00 in the morning? Will the sun be fully out or will clouds still be in place? Will it cloud up during the day? Or will it just get warmer?
The Crux Elite in the dungeon of Shad
These are impossible things to know until race morning, so the prudent Dubstoevsky must account for multiple layering options. It will all be packed in durable LL Bean canvas toes (each monogramed "Bonks" though not as a sort of preemptive jinx against every cyclist's nightmare, i.e. bonking, but actually a reference to the familial form of the professional moniker Bonkers the Clown, the character that Dubstoevsky played, once upon a time, in a circus that traveled the Ukraine, Moldova, & Belarus), and along with several coolers (for storage of the elusive Heady Topper should any be procured, as well as pre & post race ital provisions), all stuffed into the boot & back seat of the team car. With the Crux Elite riding in genuflection on top.
Ask for it
Special thanks out to the team's single sponsor, TJRZOG Salt & Mineral, DFW, Ltd of Bender Moldova, which, in conjunction with Ed Hyder's Mediterranean Marketplace, brings the team water bottles filled with smoked-coarse-sea-salt-infused water.
The second and last training run for Team Shad, 32 miles through forest and ravines and up steep hills in Wendell, Shutesbury, and Montague. 2500+ elevation, not exactly the Rasputitsa simulation we'd aimed for but in the end it was enough. Coming less than 24 hours after yesterday's 42 mile road ride, I hadn't fully recovered so the 32 hard miles today were enough. The Virginian felt the same, having thrashed himself good on Friday.
A chilled sunny day, high 30s early on and mid 40s at the high point of the mid afternoon, those puffy white clouds accentuating the blueness of the sky. Miles of forest roads, conifer stands along either side casting shadowed patterns on moist way paths. Creeks flowing alongside in audible granite'y gush. Wendell State Forest roads loose packed gravel, steep, demanding ascents that nearly broke each of us, but didn't
Through the forest alongside beaver ponds
Eventually we were stymied by the run-off from a beaver pond, far down New Boston Rd (which sounds like a real road but is really an old cart path through the woods). With recent rains and snow melt, the waterways are high and the result, for us, was an impasse we could not get around. So we altered our coursee on the fly, went back up to Mount Mineral Road and eventually up the crazy long climb of Wendell Rd, hard-packed clay that, at times, felt like pedaling on a gym floor.
The summit road to the top of Mount Wachusett is still closed, the thick layers of man-made ski slope snow still lying across the tarmac at several locations. I found that out firsthand by pedaling my ass to the entrance to the state reservation and right up to the first locked gate replete with snow bank deterrent. A walker informed me there were several more wide snow swathes up the way that would require bike-schlepping. Not for Dubstoevsky, not today.
Summit Road, April 9, 2016
It didn't matter. A big day in the saddle with more than 2000 feet of climbing. A cold day, mid 40s, though the chill was tempered for more than half the ride by a bright sun in a blue sky. By the last 15 or so miles, though, the sun was overrun by a gauzy cloud cover. But there was plenty of climbing, plenty of pedal turns, plenty of long empty roads, the pre-foliaged slopes on either side pillared by hoary oaks and etched with stone walls that once, perhaps, boundary'd fields.
Dubstoevsky on the fly
When the ride was in the books, I'd knocked off 42+ miles in the weekly quest for 63, the base number deemed necessary to achieve by DS Mawgs if Dubstoevsky has any hopes of a respectable showing in the Rasputitsa. With another big day looming tomorrow with The Virginian, it seems certain I'll reach the requisite 63 and then some.
Note: I averaged 14.3 mph over the 42 miles today. I'm content with that. Especially considering the day's venture required full winter regalia. With the temperature in the mid 40s, I opted for triple layering, including the chest-protecting paper bag. booties, and tights over the 3/4 length bibs. Tomorrow promises the same costume.
A week from tonight, Jah willing, I'll be hunkered down in the Lyndon Motor Lodge, in Lyndon, VT poring over the Rasputitsa route and getting myself thoroughly jacked for the Big Race.
Pair with friends and family
Actually, in a way, I'm doing that tonight, Friday, April 8, though situated in the comfort of Shad Headquarters, with a basement refrigerator full of Spencer IPAs brewed by Trappist monks two towns over. Except that tonight I'm psyching for the immediate weekend ahead, not race weekend. Tomorrow and Sunday I have to log some major miles.
The tentative good news is that the fickle April weather may cooperate and deliver a mostly rain-free, though not warm, Saturday and Sunday. The training plan is for a long road ride tomorrow (Saturday), possibly attempting an assault on the Mon Vontusett, a round distance ride on the order of 45 miles. Sunday, The Virginian and I will meet in Montague in the morning and hit the dirt roads and forest paths for another 40+ miles.
The obvious question that legions of Team Shad fans around the globe are asking is "Will the boys be ready for the big day?" It's a fair question and I'm happy to report, with certainty, that the short answer is "YES." The long answer is "Fuck YES."
And here's why.
I've said it repeatedly, The Virginian is like a Navy SEAL, he's like John Muir or Meriwether Lewis. He's always prepared, he bears up well under duress, he's indefatigable. He would climb a sequoia in a lightening storm just to be closer to the spectacle. And he's been getting some good rides in lately.
As for myself, Dubstoevsky, man of fragile shoulders and indomitable appetite, I, too, can be counted on to go the distance. On any given day, I can suffer with the best of them and not abandon the quest. I can go honey badger at a moment's noticed. Like a gila monster, I will bite and then chew my venom into the wound of the Rasputitsa. And I too have put in some good hard miles in the last month.
Team Shad is comprised of a duo of iron workers. Together, we sling slag and slop bones, we hack and smelt. We will go to Vermont like Visigoths. Hannibal may have crossed the Alps on elephants but Team Shad will circumnavigate Burke Mountain on aluminum steeds, climbing into the ethereal mist like Lao Tzu meandering The Way. Mindfulness and pillaging. Yin and yang.
Or, to spin it a different way, consider Winston Churchill and his abiding wisdom for the ages. We're all over that philosophy. We will definitely keep going.
Snow and wind last night, 50 mph gusts shaking the early flowering magnolia bushes. Snow in the pre-dawn. Waken to melted roads & coated trees, shrubbery, lawns. Intermittent snow showers. And, increasingly, a lot of blue sky and April morning sun. Dripping eaves.
I raced to gear-up. Though the sun was out, the temperature hovered around the freezing mark. I dressed exactly, the chosen layers perfect. I encountered winds, a driving snow squall, and wet pavement throughout but I was perfectly comfortable the entire hour's ride.
Only an hour, true. But an hour of Rasputitsa simulation. I deliberately sought out the weird unpaved roads in Woo proper. A deliberate neighborhood meander. Coes Reservoir. Canada geese beak to the rage. Gates Lane a muddy ruin.
Coes Reservoir
Gates Lane, April 3, 2016
The whole point was to steal a few miles on the Crux Elite, to get out there in cold weather, fully geared up, and pedal into the maw of whatever. Whatever turned out to be a snow squall on the long climb from Cherry Valley up Goddard Memorial Drive toward the airport. Blowing winds and snow. I loved it. It was unexpected.
Around 9:00 this morning, it began to sprinkle. Before long, the driveway was damp, and the roads too. By 10:00, it was raining. I resigned myself to not riding. Not today and not for the immediate future. Slushy snow predicted for overnight, then an inch during the day tomorrow, then rain, then more snow Monday. Cold and raw. And this is spring?
So I went about my day, which included lunch with ND, and lunch included a couple of Be Hoppys from nearby Wormtown Brewery as well as a plate of grilled calamari on hummus, and a fried chickpea sandwich (of which I ate only half). We sat in the pleasant industrially-high-ceiling'd Volturno Restaurant and looked through the giant windows on the gloom of the rainy day.
I'd warned DS Mawgs this morning that the weather was not looking good and that I couldn't offer any guarantees that I wouldn't abandon training protocol and, in the face of an inclement weekend, eat and drink with abandon. He understood and gave me his blessing, but he also reminded me that all I needed was 20 miles to hit the week's mark of 63. It seemed unlikely. The sky was thick with gray rain clouds, and the roads were soaked.
Home from lunch, I puttered around, built a fire and began to consider what to make for dinner. Oddly, the kitchen suddenly seemed to lighten. I glanced outside and noticed that it was no longer raining. Checking weather.com, they indicated a shift underway, one storm system was moving out and another was slowly moving in. They indicated a window of a few hours without precipitation. I peered out the window again, staring at the puddles and trying to discern droplets. There were none.
Like a surfer who hops a flight to California to surf Mavericks when the Giant Waves are forecast, I hurriedly geared up, surprised by the sudden opportunity. I could ride after all! I could achieve the weekly target, I could stay on task, I could justify intemperate consumption later on by the fact of having ridden. If only the rain would hold off!
Storm Style
And it did. Long enough for me to rip it up to the tune of 21 miles, a shad in mid run finning wildly up the turbulent stream.
Worcester Airport, April 2, 2016
I opted for the category 4 climb to Worcester Airport, then a wrap & climb around the backside and the descent into Cherry Valley followed by the climb up to the Kettle Brook Reservoirs. Then on to rt 31, down into Holden and the speedy descent of South Rd, along the reservoirs, and back along Chandler St, past Worcester State and into Woo proper. Traffic was light, almost non-existent. The air, washed by the morning's rain, was clean and crisp and perfect. I nailed the layers: Gore long-sleeve base, Steal Your Face jersey, brown paper bag, Gore psycho lime green neon insulated outer wind top, tights and booties. Allez! Feeling like I've got my costume mojo back. Not to mention my strength and mobility. The shoulders feel fine! It's a miracle!
At about the 15 mile point I noticed I was averaging around 13.5 mph. Knowing there was no climbing left at that point, I kicked it hard in an effort to clock an average speed of 14+ mph. Even with intersections and cars back in the city proper, I kept a tidy pace and when I pulled into Shad HQ, I'd gotten to 14 mph.
Notes
I spoke with The Virginian this morning and he rode BIG this past week, a week that saw balmy temperatures and perfect riding conditions. He confided that "I had a good hard week and feel pretty much ready for the Rasputitsa." I don't doubt him. He's an understated savage who will rip you apart without even noticing that he's doing it. He never shows up unprepared.
We agreed that Sunday April 10 would be the next, and last, Rasputitsa Training Camp, the route as yet undetermined. Our intentions are to do a full 40+ miles, predominantly gravel and dirt and forest path. That would suggest either returning to southern NH and the roads up from Orange, MA. Or a lengthy jaunt from The Virginian's Conway redoubt in western MA.
Finally, DS Mawgs, scouring the internet for insight, for any shard of visual or textual information about this year's Rasputitsa that might be useful or illustrative, forwarded me a link to the following video, the Rasputitsa Pre-Ride that was held in February of this year.
