D2R2: The Mystery Ride and the Implosion of Shad: Part III

Finally, the lunch stop appeared on the horizon, a dusty mirage like the outline of Hope itself hovering in watery heat shimmer just up the road.

Shangri-La

The 160K and the Mystery Ride shared the lunch stop and the scene bustled. Sort of. Actually, looking around, there were a lot of tired bodies, a lot of riders looking a bit shocked at what they'd just been through.

Regrouping on the lawn of the Amos Brown House

It had taken us more than five hours to reach the almost half way point. This was alarming. But in the moment, unnerving as that fact was, my focus was strictly on eating: a dreamed-of ham sandwich (with self-added condiments including hot pepper strips, mustard & shredded lettuce), potato chips, a cola, an Oreo cookie, special homemade cookies, pasta salad, shots of pickle brine. 

Wing Nut Refueling

I scarfed it down without saying much of anything. There were some talkative groups around but most of us just sat and sort of stared into the near distance without focusing on much of anything.

Now think for a minute about that combination of food sluiced into the engine quickly and without much consideration. Alas, even Dubstoevsky's fabled iron gullet felt the blow of this food bomb. All that sugar, and that big mass of half-chewed spongy bread sandwich lolling around in the bile amidst the Oreo crumble and the worm-like tubules of pasta. Mix that with whatever remained of the three bottles of warm water drank so far and ... disgusting! 

But there was nothing to be done about it. Then lunch was over. The steeds were called back from pasture and we climbed on. 

Wing Nut's Surly (L) and Dubstoevsky's Specialized (R)

Some of the herd

Up ahead, we'd have another choice:

Note your options for climbing through Hawley! The main course has two very rough sections, but there are road-bike workarounds.

After our morning march through the Catamount Forest (numerous times carrying or pushing the steed), we had no desire for another similar stretch. Time was already an issue and "two very rough sections" would mean more pushing and walking. We decided to take the East Rd climb instead.

East Rd! The site of perhaps Dubstoevsky's greatest ride, the 2013 D2R2 and the triumph on East Rd. I looked forward to it. I thought it would be grounding, that in being on familiar terrain, with its relentless ascent and its shading canopy, I would be able to find a rhythm and recover a little (if not reclaim some of that earlier glory).

Unfortunately, very shortly after setting out from lunch, my thighs began cramping, but a weirdly located cramping. Not the big thick top quad muscle, but the insides of each thigh; whatever sinewy band of tissue and tendon that is, both began seizing up. 

Not good, I thought.

Somehow, the boost from lunch was short-lived. Now the roads were true gravel grinders, long dusty lines along high fields and hillside forests often with sweeping views. Pretty as it was, the loose and crumbly surface made pedaling that much more difficult, and tiring.

Gravel grinder, with view

I churned after Wing Nut, shifting around constantly and paying close mental attention to how I was pedaling. What muscles, what areas of muscle was I depending on? How could I shift the torque from the part of the cramping muscle to somewhere else, some millimeter away in the same muscle? I got out of the saddle and concentrated on using the hips, piston pedaling, rocking up and down, up and down, letting the body's weight itself contribute to the momentum of the strokes.

Nut just barely in sight

Eventually, after about an hour, my cramping went away. I began to allow myself some optimism. Except for the noxious moil within, I wasn't feeling that bad overall. In just a spot of bother, and only a small spot at that.

Part IV
Part I