My Return to the Blue Ridge Parkway

It has been about two full years since I've visited the Blue Ridge Parkway by bicycle.  What had started out as an annual excursion in the Fall, fell by the wayside last year due to a series of events.  The plan had been for a return to America's Favorite Drive (Ride) again this year to hopefully make up for the omission last year.  Scheduling was becoming an issue for me starting in September since I had promised Toni that I would not ride on the Parkway alone.  It is difficult to plan a trip to the mountains taking into account several people's schedules, weather, and dodging other riding commitments.  As October arrived, NC found itself in a long term weather system that had daily rain and storms.  The first week of the month brought flooding in many areas across the state, and days upon days of high winds.  All of this wonderful weather prevented one trip to the Parkway that I had been invited on, and it had been rescheduled for Oct 6th, in hopes of better weather.

The forecast kept adding days of rain as we moved through the first week of October.  What had been a clear window, was now right on the edge of a rainy week.  It wasn't until the afternoon leading up to the 6th that we started to

"Reliable", Mabry Mill as shot in 2010

feel comfortable that the weather would hold for us, and be dry for the first time in several weeks.  The plan was to meet in the small town of Mt Airy at Riverside Park and start riding Northeast, turning onto Squirrel Spur Rd, leading up to the Blue Ridge Parkway in Virginia, and ultimately ending at Mabry Mill.  This was a little bit different from my previous rides on the Parkway since a large chunk of the route would not be on the actual Parkway.  Another difference was the route was only about 50 miles.  My previous three trips up to the mountains had all be metric centuries of 62 miles or more.  The shorter distance was fine by me though because there was a really nice climb on Squirrel Spur Rd that was promising to be an attention getter.

One thing that I noticed about the route was that the particular section of the Parkway that we would be on, I had done in the past.  Actually, this was part of the route that I had done on my first ride on the Parkway in 2012.  While exciting, that ride was a little disappointing overall because it marked the first time that I had to throw in the towel and accept defeat on a climb.  It was the category 4 climb up to Rocky Knob.  To be honest, it was my first ever, real climb and I wasn't prepared for it at all.  I had no idea how to properly climb a long duration grade.  That day the Parkway beat me, and I never forgot it.  As luck would have it though, this route that my friend Phil was telling me about (created by Adrian) was going to stop at Mabry Mill, as the halfway point of a 50 mile ride.  That was the same setup that the original ride had, and the bonus miles to make it a full metric century included the climb up to Rocky Knob which was about 6 more miles down the road from the Mill.  Unless the math had changed, that simple addition would make this route a metric century as well.

I made the suggestion that we go ahead and stretch it out to include Rocky Knob.  Phil said that he would see how he was feeling and make a decision then.  I figured that it might work out.  As we got closer, Phil said that he and Adrian were planning on stopping at the Mill for pancakes.  Well, that would give me enough time to roll out the extra 12 miles, including the climb that beat me before.  So, either we all would go, or I would go it alone.  Either way, the plan became to get another metric century in the mountains, and conquer the climb that bested me several years before.

Rocky Knob in 2012

Yeah, I know that there is no real "need" for me to climb this stretch of the Parkway to prove anything.  I've done much longer and steeper grades since then with no problem.  In fact, to get to this climb, I would have to climb Squirrel Spur Rd which was twice the length, and twice the vertical ascent.  No, I wasn't doing it as an accomplishment, or goal.  This was a grudge climb for me.  I wanted to get back at the Parkway and make it "my bitch!"

The morning of the 6th finally rolled around and I looked at the weather, juuussst to make sure that the rain was really over.  Looking at key points along the route, there was not a chance of rain anywhere in the forecast, and the sun would be out in all of its glory.  As an added bonus, the winds would be negligible, especially compared to the 20-30 mph winds we had been seeing for the past 3 days.  The temperature did catch my attention though with lows starting out the day at about 47* or so.  The high would be in the upper 60's it appeared.  This meant that I needed to dress accordingly, which meant arm warmers and leg warmers.  It would be the first time since early Spring I had worn those extra items, but I wanted to be comfortable.

Phil grabbed this shot later in the day

Phil, Adrian, and I arrived just before 8am at the Riverside Park in Mt Airy.  We all did what cyclists do before a ride.  Almost like clockwork, at 8 we were lined up in the parking lot turning on our bike computers with the symphony of beeps and buzzes that accompany this act.  It was cold, and I was thinking I had underprepared for the weather, but knew that it wouldn't take too long to warm up pedaling through town.  We exited the park, and made a right onto Riverside Dr and worked our way through Mt Airy with the morning traffic.  The sun was low, but I have to admit it was sure nice to see it shining again after so long under cloud cover.

It wasn't but a few miles and we hit the Virginia border.  We stopped for a moment while Adrian grabbed a couple shots at the sign.  We were back on our way again and doing some nice and gentle rollers heading Northeast.  My legs were feeling really good this morning despite the cold weather which would normally keep me from warming up.  The bike was working flawlessly, but I happened to notice that due to the lack of humidity, and my lack of sweating, my heart rate monitor and power sensor combo was not registering at all through my Garmin.  I tried to move it around a little bit, but nothing would make it work.  Oh well, it was not the end of the world not to have it.  It would come on occasionally, but usually with numbers that I knew were not accurate.

I had looked at the elevation profile and route for the ride the night before and I knew that shortly after turning onto Squirrel Spur Rd the biggest climb of the day would start.  It just happened to be just after the 12 mile mark.  Normally, by this point, I would have switched into the big ring as my warm up would have been done.  With the climb looming in the near future, I just left the chain on the little ring and prepared for a nice 4 mile climb of about 1000 feet gain in elevation.

As happens so often on my rides, I would hear Phil's voice telling me to ride my ride.  He had already said not to wait for him on some of the smaller climbs of the day, so I decided that I would find my groove and work this climb out.  The next turn would be onto the Blue Ridge Parkway, and that was were we would regroup.

This climb reminded me a little bit of Caesar's Head in SC.  It was about the same grade, and it called for my lowest gear at about 8-9 mph.  The steepest sections of it were at the beginning though which was nice, and it was nowhere near as long a climb as Caesar's Head.  It was that length that made the difference between a category 1 and a category 2 climb.  Today was the lesser of the two.  The climb went off without a hitch and I realized the biggest difference between the two climbs.  Squirrel Spur Rd is long enough to be interesting, but not so long to be boring.  Caesar's Head gets rather boring in the last third of the climb.  I found myself actually wanting more of the Spur.  Yes, I am seeking psychological help for this.

Phil's Specialized at the entrance to the Parkway

There are times that karma bites you in the butt.  Today happened to be one of those days.  As usual, I made a comment about Phil and his uncanny ability to get lost on a ride.  Well, the route sheet, as well as the map made it look like Squirrel Spur Rd followed beside the Parkway for a bit before turning to the left to intersect with a "T".  This was what I was looking for as I came to the Parkway.  I could see several places to enter the Parkway, but none of them were as I was expecting.  Eventually, I could tell that I was moving away from the Parkway and heading more West than I thought I should be.  It was time to pull the phone out and check the cue sheet.  I was past the mileage where I should have made the turn, but I had not come to that "T" intersection yet.  I looked at the GPS map and found that I was, in fact, moving away from the Parkway at this point.  I decided to turn around and access the first entrance to the Parkway that I could find.  Fortunately, I was only a couple miles beyond the turn, so it didn't take me long to get back.

Once I got back to the entrance, I saw no signs of Adrian or Phil.  Since I didn't know what their pace was, I had no idea how far behind they were from me.  Had they been through here already, thinking that I had kept on going?  Should I still wait for them?  I decided to go ahead and wait....and

wait.....and....wait.  Just as I was about to give up and call Phil to see where they were, I see a couple of cyclists coming up the hill.  One of them was brighter than the sun...that had to be Phil.  They were here!  I had not been left behind due to my missed turn.  We were all back together again and after a brief break, we made out turn onto the Parkway and outran a friendly dog that had come to say hi.  I had finally made it, I was on the Blue Ridge Parkway once again riding my bike.  It was a wonderful feeling, and one that I had missed for far too long.

While we were done with the big climb of the day, there were still going to be a lot of rollers to deal with on the Parkway.  It is in the mountains after all.  The climbs that we came to caused us to separate as we each went at our own pace.  I would surge ahead and work my way to the top and wait.  Adrian would be the next in line shortly after I stopped.  Seizing the photo opportunity on one of the climbs, he let go of his handle bar (something I still can't do!) and framed his Selma Cyclepaths jersey.  I could almost hear him say "Hey Ma, look, no hands."  OK, so I might be a little jealous of his bike handling skills.

Phil was not far behind Adrian and came up the mountain in typical Phil fashion...strong and steady.  That is one thing I have come to expect from Phil, he might not be the fastest out there, but he is as consistent as a German clock.  When he is climbing, he finds his pace and will stick to it for the entire climb.  I honestly think that if given the opportunity, he could climb a telephone pole that went to the moon without changing his cadence.

We continued on along the Parkway in this same fashion for about seven miles or so from where we had entered.  This brought us to the Mabry Mill.  We had discussed the plans in the last few miles and it was determined that Phil and Adrian were still not interested in going on to Rocky Knob.  I made sure it would not hold them up too long if I went ahead and stretched out the route.  Phil assured me that I had all the time I needed, he and Adrian were going to get breakfast.

The time was finally here, the moment I had been waiting for over three years.  It was my chance at redemption.  I know, it is rather silly, and I freely admit that.  However, it was something that was important to me on an emotional level, and I wasn't going to be able to let it go until I had my "do over".

So, while Phil and Adrian rested and ate a special mountain breakfast, I continued toward Rocky Knob.  My riding style changed slightly at this point since I no longer had to worry about the overall pace of a group, I could settle into my own cruising speed.  I remember feeling exhilarated as I was starting to feel the tension in my legs, and my heart start beating at a more "normal" pace.  Yeah, this was what I was looking forward to.  But...I needed to watch myself because my first attempt at this climb failed because I had gone in too hot, too early, and ran out of steam before I ran out of climb.  I had no doubt that I would make it to the top this time, but I still didn't want to fall victim to overconfidence.  I kept my pace reasonable, but still let my legs enjoy the ride.  My destination was only about 6 miles from the Mill, so I was at the base of the climb in no time at all.

Immediately, I recognized the climb.  I had replayed it so many times in my head.  I started shift down, and then moved the chain into the little ring.  I found a nice pace that I could keep up with for the two miles I would be climbing.  It happened to be about the same pace that I had used climbing Squirrel Spur Rd.  I remembered how I had started the climb before, choosing to stay in the big ring and muscle through.  This had lasted just under a mile, and then I started dropping gears and eventually running out of lower gears.  That would not be the case today.  I was comfortable, and the climb seemed quite easy on my legs today.  In no time at all, I found myself at the very spot I had cracked.  I remember barely being able to stand after bringing my barely moving bike to a stop.  Here I was passing that by, still at about 9 mph, sitting, and barely breaking a sweat.  I crested the climb in the same shape as I had started, and actually felt bad that it was over.  After all the mental energy I had exerted on this single climb, the success of the climb was very anti-climactic.  But in my mind, that failure has now been corrected!

I was planning on recreating the original shot that I took with my other bike three years ago, but there was a little bit of a breeze that made me a little hesitant to stand this bike up on the curb.  As light as it is, it is not all that stable standing up on its own.  In lieu of that picture, I opted for a selfie in the overlook parking lot.  Yep, it was a small accomplishment, but an important one.  In the excitement, I forgot to eat my lunch which had been my plan.  I had packed one of my now famous waffle and nutella sandwiches and with this being the halfway point, I figured that would be the perfect time.  However, I wasn't hungry and forgot all about eating.

After a few minutes at the overlook, I saddled back up and headed back down the mountain to the Mill.  I remember this descent all too well from the last time.  It was reasonably straight and pretty fast.  Since traffic wasn't bad, I decided to press it just a bit.  I ended up with a top speed of just under 43 mph on the descent.  For me, that is pretty quick, because I am just not a fan of the descents at all.  Just like last time, the return six miles goes by in just a few minutes.  It seemed that by the time my heart rate had stabilized, I was back at the mill again.

Adrian's and Phil's bikes doing the lean

My timing was perfect, they were just coming out of the Mill happy and fed.  It was time to get a few pictures at this point.  While they were doing that, remembered that I had a sandwich in my jersey pocket that wanted to be eaten.  It wasn't pancakes and ham, but it was a proven cycling fuel, and one that I was suspecting I needed about now.  There was still about 25 miles left to go, and even if they were mostly downhill, I didn't want to be running on empty.

Adrian standing by while I ate real quick

With everyone's bellies filled again, we got the bikes back out on the road and headed back to Mt Airy.  For the most part we stayed together for this leg.  It didn't take long before we were at Squirrel Spur Rd again, and exiting the Parkway.  Phil and Adrian had spent about 16 miles on the Parkway, and even with my added leg, I only at about 28 miles.  That was just enough to give me a taste for the rolling hills and fresh smells of the Appalachian Mountains. I really hated to be turning off of the Parkway so soon after getting here.  I'm going to have to figure out how to get back here again soon, and more often!

From this point on, most of the route would be downhill with just a few small climbs thrown in for fun.  The biggest descent was just a few miles ahead.  That category 2 climb that we had to dispatch on the way up, was now going to be a twisty, fast descent.  Unlike most cyclists, I don't much care for descents.  Ironically though, I found that both Phil and Adrian shared my disdain for them citing similar reasons.  However, whether we liked descents or not, we were at a certain elevation, and we needed to lose altitude somehow.  that somehow was going to be going back down Squirrel Spur Rd.

This one wasn't that bad considering the grade and curves.  The road was in decent shape, and the traffic was light.  This was a good thing, because we were all using every bit of the lane as we swooped around the corners.  Since I don't really consider myself a seasoned descender, I chose to stay behind either Phil or Adrian to force me to keep my speed in check.  This was a very good thing, because even doing that, I overcooked a couple of corners and had to really get on the brakes.  There is just nothing quite like the sound of carbon fiber screaming against brake pads...just think grinding teeth, or fingernails on a chalk board.  Not pleasant, not pleasant at all.

Just like with Rocky Knob, the descent was over in just a few minutes.  What had taken 30 minutes to climb, passed by with a blink of an eye.  We were now on the road that would carry us back to Riverside Park.  There were not many significant climbs, but there were plenty of rollers as we made out way back to NC.  The earlier pattern repeated itself and I would either soft pedal or wait at the top of the climbs in order to regroup.  Seeing this as a potential photo opportunity, I decided to surge ahead and get to the NC/VA border where Adrian had got a picture earlier.  I figured that it would be really cool to get the guys passing the state line sign.  I had enough lead that I wouldn't have a problem getting in position to grab the shot.

I went ahead and hopped off of the bike and stumbled over onto the shoulder of the road.  Riding shoes are not meant for any amount of hiking, and I had a hard time getting where I wanted to be.  However, I had a great position that allowed me to see the road for quite a distance which would allow me to plan my shot.  I had everything set up, and looking back on other times I had surged ahead, I knew that I had about 2 more minutes before they would show up.  After about 5 minutes, I started to wonder just how quickly I had gotten here.  I was seeing no signs of either of my companions.  I knew I hadn't missed a turn at this point.  What I didn't know was whether or not something had happened to either of them.  After what seemed like about 10 minutes, I decided to get back out in the road and retrace my steps.  I wanted to make sure that they were ok wherever they were.  I guess it was about a mile to a mile and a half that I found them both rolling down the road.

I shouted out a quick hello as they passed me and I stopped to get turned around.  It was then a quick sprint to catch up with them again.  I found out that they had made a quick side trip to see a historical site.  I was glad that there had not been a problem, and we were back together once again.  We weren't far at all from the park where we had started, and we made the rest of the trip pretty much together.

We pulled into Riverside Park shortly after 1pm.  We were done for the day.  I had just shy of 70 miles, and Phil and Adrian had about 52 miles.  It had been an outstanding day to be on a bike.  The weather couldn't have been better (maybe warmer), the route was awesome, and the company was great as always.  I really enjoyed having this reunion on the Parkway with Phil and Adrian since this was the same crew I had ridden with the last time I had been on the Blue Ridge Parkway.  My year was now complete, and the icing on the cake...I had shown Rocky Knob who was boss after three years!

Out of all of my rides this year, my time on the Parkway really stands out.  Even in past years, no matter what rides I do, it has always been the Fall ride in the mountains that turns into the reward for a year well ridden.  I had a lot of time to think on this ride, and what I thought about was next year.  I have been tossing around the idea of riding in the Six Gap Century, which is a 100 mile ride with about 11,400 feet of climbing.  If I were to commit to this ride, I would have to work a lot on my climbing next year.  I can do the distance all day long, but my climbing legs are not quite as long lived.  For the kind of training that I would need, I could really get into riding the Parkway at least once a month.  Heck, even if I don't take part in Six Gap, I think I would like to spend more time riding the Parkway in 2016.  I just have to find a way around the need for the buddy system on these rides.  It is quite cumbersome to find other's to ride with, especially the way I like to plan training rides.  I'm kind of a spur of the moment kind of kid when it comes to picking and choosing my routes.  That might have to change to make this happen though.  Time will tell, but I know that I am really enjoying climbing for the first time in my cycling career.  I want to foster that as much as possible since it is one of my weaknesses.

Garmin Data From the Ride

2015 Tour of Farmington: Second Chances

It took three years, but I finally made it!  Why did it take so long to do this ride you ask?  The short answer is, I'm a weather weenie for all but the most important rides, and even then, I tend to whine a lot.  You see, today's ride actually started in late 2012, when I signed up for the ride after feeling stoked at the completion of the Tour to Tanglewood a few days before.  Having ridden a solid century, followed by a metric century, I felt that this ride (63 miles) wouldn't be too much to ask from my legs.  The registration fee wasn't outlandish, so I went ahead and signed up.  There was about a week to go before the actual event and I was getting excited about the ride.  What I hadn't considered was the weather.

That morning, I got up and had my gear ready to roll out, but looked outside and saw that it was rather wet.  I looked at the forecast and it showed rain pretty much all day long.  Hmmmmm, A couple of weeks before, I had ridden 65 miles in a steady rain at the Tour to Tanglewood, and quite frankly had my fill of that experience.  I briefly considered going to the Tour of Farmington because, lets face it, I had paid for it.  But thinking about all the cleanup that would be needed on the bike after riding in the rain, I opted against it.  Like I said, "Weather Weenie."  And yes, I did whine through the 65 miles at Tanglewood.  Well, I wasn't riding the Farmington ride as I was expecting to, but I didn't want to let myself off that easy, so I went with plan B.

Plan B was a "B"oring ride on the "B"rand new trainer, that made me "B"itch more than riding in the rain would have.  This was my first attempt at riding on a trainer, and I wasn't a fan of it.  I always felt bad that I backed out of riding the Farmington ride, especially when I saw pictures of the "real cyclists" who had gone out and ridden in the rain.  Yeah, I was a weather weenie.

When 2013 came around, I didn't really give Farmington much thought because my emphasis had been on doing century rides, or major climbing events.  A metric century just felt like a letdown with all the other rides that I had planned.  I really didn't give it much thought after that.  Since I wasn't riding for most of 2014, I hadn't really considered it until right at the last minute when I thought I would try it.  That thought was short lived since I crashed out and found myself without a road worthy bike at the beginning of September.

When 2015 rolled around, I had big plans once again, and I was focusing on the ultra endurance events yet again.  After I rode in the Ride to Remember in July, I was pretty much done for the year.  Well, I thought that I was.  I ended up realizing that there was a lot of riding weather left in the year and decided to do the Tour to Tanglewood again for my 4th year.  As I was ramping up training for two century rides, I happened to see a advertisement for the Tour of Farmington.  There were four different route options, with the longest being 63 miles once again.  It wasn't a full century, it wasn't in the mountains, but there was that twinge of guilt for the fact that I had missed it in '12 because I wussed out.  2015 was about second chances on the bike, so I figured that with it being a week before Tanglewood, it would make for a great training ride.  I went ahead and signed up for it, for the second time.

As we got closer to the day, I was looking at the weather.  The temperature was going to be perfect for riding, in the lower to mid 70's.  The wind was looking rather docile as well.  The only catch...rain.  Yep, thunderstorm chances throughout the day, but it didn't look too bad.  I cautiously told myself that I would be riding this year.  The night before, it was looking like we would be good until about 11am when the chances were around 51%.  Other than that, they were hovering in the low 40% range.  It was going to be iffy, but I was going to try it.  When I woke up this morning, I checked the weather first, before even getting out of bed.  Now we were looking at 45-58% chance for storms starting at 6am, well before the actual start of the ride.  It was looking like I was going to get wet today.

I rolled back over in the bed and thought about how comfortable it was, and how nice the fan felt.  I think I'll just sit this one out...

Again....

What?  AGAIN?!?!?!

What was I thinking?

Was I going to let the weather make me feel less like a cyclist once again. Negative!  I got out of the bed, and decided that it was going to be what it was going to be, but I was going to be on the bike.  I got everything ready and loaded in the truck before Toni got home from work.  I got to see her briefly before she went to bed, and I headed out to Mocksville.  It was cloudy, but nothing was falling from the sky at least.

I got there plenty early because I didn't know what parking would be like, or how long registration would take.  As luck would have it, I got the perfect parking space between a fence and a mound of dirt so I didn't have to worry about anyone parking next to me.  Registration took 2 minutes, 25 seconds...I counted.  I really didn't count, but I was in and out in no time.  That left me with about an hour to sit and chill out.  There was no reason to get the bike off of the truck that early, so I just watched as cars steadily came in and spandex clad cyclists moved around getting coffee, and breakfast.

Drip

Drip

What was that?

Drip drip

Oh no, I haven't even unloaded yet and its starting to rain.  Not much, but just a slight drizzle.  Edmond, the cyclist getting ready nearby, looked up and said something to effect of, "uh oh, I think I felt something."  Yep, it was raining.  I had an immediate flashback to the Carolina Century ride from 2013 which I should have ridden in a canoe for.  By the way, this is a funny read, and I was already reliving the experience in my head.  But I was here, the bike was going to get wet if the rain came at this point, so I went ahead and started getting things ready.

To show you how early I had gotten there, they were handing out numbers on a first come, first served basis.  By my early morning estimations, there had been (counts on fingers) just five riders in before me.  It was kind of cool having a single digit bib number.  At least it made it easy to remember.  It didn't take long to get dressed, and I was happy to find that I had remembered everything that I needed.  I always stress that part for some reason, and see myself pedaling without shoes.  I moved up to the start line, and utilized the little trick that I had learned at Ride to Remember...get up front, its easier to start.  There was going to be a staggered start with each mile group being separated to keep the start from getting too bunched up.  It wasn't until recently that I learned just how nice that procedure makes the first few miles.  Many thanks to the organizers for doing it this way.

I wasn't sure what kind of riders would be doing this route, and didn't know if I was going to have my doors blown off, or if everyone would treat it like a casual ride.  I had done a little research on Strava, looking at the course layout and getting an idea of the climbing involved.  In that research, I had seen speeds in the 18's and 19's, so I knew I would be in good company with similar riders to myself.  The question came as to whether or not I would ride this one solo, or if I would attach to a group and share the workload.  This seems to be the major question that I deal with on these event rides.  This one was pretty easy to determine though since it was just a metric century.  I felt confident enough in my abilities to handle this one solo which would ensure I would have a more enjoyable ride, and a safer one as well.

Is it just me, or is my head the biggest thing in this picture?

There were the typical morning announcements.  Safety was emphasized, which is always a good thing.  There was also the mention that there was some "broken pavement" on one of the roads.  I wasn't quite sure what this meant, but figured that it just meant that the pavement had buckled a little bit and was a significant bump.  I filed it in my head for reference when we got to that portion of the ride.  And just like that, it was time to clip in and ride.

I pulled out with the lead group that quickly got into position in front of me, and more passed me.  Remember, I like warming up in the little ring for the first 10 miles or so, and that kept me a bit slower than the rest.  At first, I wanted to give chase and secure my position in the front, but decided that I would be much better off just letting them drop me and let me ride my ride wherever I ended up in the line.  I was instantly calm, not caring where anyone was around me.  This was going to be a great ride, and the rain had stopped before even making the roads wet.

I'm in the yellow jersey centered between the two lead riders

Within the first five miles or so, I was passed by a group on a slight downhill (I had topped out gearing and was coasting).  As we came to the inevitable uphill portion, I saw that I was gaining on them.  The closer I got, the more I realized that I wasn't going to be able to pass them and stay in front for long, so I just hung back well behind the line (don't want to be labeled as a wheel sucker).  My heart rate was getting into sleeping territory, and to make matters worse, the lead rider was coming off line and going back to the rear.  My presence was confusing to him as he appeared to want to fall in behind me, but was concerned with the gap.  I told him to slide in, I was riding "my own ride" today.  With that, he moved in to the last spot of the line, and I made my decision that it was time to make my move.  I checked to the rear, and moved to the left of the lane.  I went ahead and spun up the pedals and moved around them, and continued with the "sprint" in order to not disrupt their flow by them trying to grab onto my wheel.

When I had created a large enough gap, I backed down a little bit and went back to my warm up.  There were a couple of riders which had been dropped that I came up to and passed which caused me to get a bit of adrenaline pumping in my veins.  At 10 miles, I moved into the big ring, and settled into my cruising cadence.  At about 15 miles in, I had moved past all but a handful of riders and was still increasing my average speed.  

At some point in this section, I found out what Garry was talking about when he said to watch out for the "broken pavement."  I saw the warning sign on the side of the road and began to slow down, which was not all that easy since it was on a slight descent.  I was expecting a rough patch in the road, but what I saw was not that.  There was a full section width of road missing, and about three feet wide.  There was no way to go around, no point where there would be less of a "bump", it was just missing pavement.  I grabbed the brakes, and slowed to about 15 mph, stood in the saddle and hoped for the best.  It was a rough crossing, but wasn't as bad as it looked like it was going to be.  Note to self...broken pavement is a bad thing, and should be avoided.

By 20 miles, I had found another group up ahead and found myself struggling to catch them.  In fact, I lost sight of them within minutes of spotting them in the distance.  We were on one of the few flat roads on the route, and it was into the wind.  That was where pacelines shine, and I was feeling the effects of pulling 100% of the workload for my solo ride.  I knew that there was no way I was going to catch them, but that wasn't my biggest concern at this point...

Nice road markings, my route was the white arrow

There was still no rain, but I was facing a slight dilemma.  I was starting to think that I was lost.  I had just crossed Hwy 601 on Lone Hickory Rd which was familiar territory for me since that was part of two different century routes I train on, but I was going in the opposite direction.  Anyway, I had not seen any of the road markings in a quite a while.  I had programmed my eyes to spot the white arrows for the metric century.  I also had a cue sheet in my jersey pocket with the turn by turn directions.  Having not seen the road markings in miles, and having lost sight of the group up ahead, I was getting concerned that I had missed a turn.  I could keep going and trust that I hadn't missed anything and this was just a long stretch, or I could stop, and look at the mile count on the cue sheet to see if I had messed something up.  If I were on the right course, stopping would affect any my placement in the route.  That wasn't significant since this wasn't a race, but I had really wanted to hammer this route, and that was a personal goal of mine (aiming for 3 hours flat).  It would be a blow to my self confidence to get passed at this point, knowing that there was a group pulling away from me as it was.  I decided to trust myself and keep going, knowing that at some point we would be on Hwy 21, which I knew from experience was at the end of this road.  Worst case, I add a few miles.

After what seemed like an eternity, I found Hwy 21 and a most welcomed sight of a white arrow telling me to turn left.  I was still on course, I was right to trust me!  I was now out of the wind, and going downhill.  My speeds were creeping back up again and I was feeling much better about the ride.  Here is where my obligatory funny story comes in...

After passing a couple of stragglers from the group up ahead (nice to see I'm still on course, and not that far behind now), I saw a slightly odd sight ahead.  There was a lady riding a hybrid bike wearing what looked like a regular white summer top and not a cycling jersey.  There was no bib number attached, and she didn't seem all that "serious" for lack of a better term.  I assumed that she was just out for a Saturday ride which was awesome.  I came up behind and wished her a good morning and have a nice ride as I passed by.  She smiled and we parted ways.

Not even a mile later there was a nice descent which I was going to utilize to make up some time.  As I finished clicking through the gears, I saw the other group ahead of me.  I had found them, and was in position to catch them!  I poured on the coals, and saw my pace creeping up, but I also saw a blue pickup truck backing out of a driveway.  The other group was able to get past it without missing a beat, but I was going to have to slow down to let him out.  I feathered the brakes anticipating him to back out, and get into the oncoming lane as any other driver would do.  Well, not this guy, he just slowly backed out and blocked both lanes with his truck before stopping right there.  He wasn't even looking at me, so I knew it had nothing to do with a motorist vs cyclist grudge, but I was going to have to come to a stop.  I grabbed the brakes, and managed to downshift a couple of gears as I came to a stop.  Before I stopped, I could hear a female voice yelling from the porch of the house he was leaving from.  Oh joy!  I had found myself in the middle of a 10-16 (domestic dispute for you non cop folks).  I knew better than to try and persuade the driver to move along, because experience tells me, he's probably just looking for someone to lash out at, and I wasn't going to volunteer for that role.  He did hear my brakes and realized that he was in the road.  To his credit, he flipped off the lady at the house and put his truck in drive to clear the road.  Well, that was nice!

As I was starting to push off and get rolling again, what happened?  The young lady I had passed a few minutes ago came rolling by, apparently not even breaking stride due to the truck.  I had to smile at that.  Here we had a a casual cyclist blowing past the guy on the race bike, in full kit.  I really enjoyed that experience, and I hope that she did as well, because it was just that kind of funny.  It wasn't long before I was back in full song though, and climbing the hill after the descent.  It was a long hill, which marked the halfway point to the ride.  It was on the hills I was excelling it seemed, and I found the group which had been eluding me for so long as we came to the end of the hill.  There was a rest stop on the next road which reduced that group by a couple, and just a handful continued on without stopping.

Elevation profile showing lots of rolling hills

They were back in my sights though, and I wasn't going to let them get away again.  They had slowed and were situating some "on the road snacks" it appeared.  They were riding two abreast, so I decided to hang back a little bit and let them get organized.  There was no sense in sprinting ahead by going into opposing traffic, plus it was kind of nice to soft pedal after the long climb.  They got back in single file and had seen that I was waiting in the rear. They did not get back up to speed immediately, so I took that as my invitation to make my move.  I got around them, and continued hammering the pedals until I figured that I had enough room between us so as not to disrupt their paceline.  By all estimations at the time, I was now in the lead for the metric century group, and that was a first. I have to say, that just turned into a bucket list item for me, and I had checked it off.

I continued out in front for pretty much the rest of the ride, but the strangest thing happened.  I swear the group of four behind me must have possessed either a cloaking device, or access to warp speed because I would keep a periodic check behind me since I could feel my pace dropping a little bit.  I could never see them, so I figured I was well ahead by this point.  The route came to a stop sign, and decided to use this opportunity to switch water bottles in the cages.  In just a matter of seconds, the four of them just appeared. Huh?  How did that do that?  Where did they come from?  Hey, they are making the turn before me!  I would then sprint out and get back in front again and wait until I couldn't see them again before backing off.

We played that game at least three more times at stop signs where they would come out of nowhere, just seconds behind me.  In the last 10 miles, I was feeling pretty beat down, and was actually getting hungry.  I had brought food, but hadn't felt the need to eat anything as of yet.  Based on my training rides, I rarely need food on metric centuries now, and I figured that this would be no different.  The difference was, I was putting out significantly more watts over this ride than I was used to in an attempt to stay out front.  If I stopped to eat, I would get passed, and didn't know how many were in range to do that.  With just a few miles left, I drank some water and kept it moving.

At 59 miles, I was on a flat portion of the road, and was feeling pretty well beat down.  It was at that time, that the four riders came out of thin air again and blew past me.  My feelings weren't hurt though, I know that a paceline is a very efficient machine, and I was probably the most inefficient rider on the whole course riding solo.  The fact that I had made a paceline catch me, was just as impressive as leading the route.  I held on to them from about 30 feet back as the last 3.5 miles ticked by.  We had made it to the finish line, and I was about 30 feet behind the other four riders.  I could live with that!

I did my stretching in the bed of the truck, and got my gear all loaded up before going to have a bite of lunch in an attempt to consume some protein.  I had a brief chat with a couple of other riders who had done the 40 mile route.  We compared notes on the road conditions.  We all agreed that the roads were very rough out there.  It actually reminded me of South Carolina for the second half.  The vibrations that continually went through my body came close to shaking the molars out of my mouth.  I'm sure that this factored into my fatigue levels by the end of the ride.  it is just harder to ride on rough roads than smooth ones.

After I ate, I made my way back to the truck and headed home.  I really missed Toni on this ride.  She wasn't there to send me off, she wasn't there to celebrate when I finished, and I was still hungry because she had not been there to force me to get more lunch.  The ride back was lonely without her, and it really killed the high I should have been experiencing for what I would consider an awesome ride.

Starting another row of bib numbers on the wall

After three years, I had finally done the Tour of Farmington.  Yeah, it was only a metric century, but I had underestimated it.  There was enough climbing on this route to make it interesting, and the road conditions added to the difficulty.  I've come back from centuries feeling better than I felt after this ride.  Of course, that is primarily because I pushed myself for the whole ride.  At a more conservative pace, I would have had plenty of energy left at the end.  However, for the event rides that I do, I like to push the envelope when I can.  There are three things that I look for in rides, climbing, total distance, and if there isn't significance to either of those, I look for a high average speed.  This ride was done at a speed of 20.1 mph which for the climbing (3,474 feet of vertical) was outstanding for me.  I missed my goal time of 3 hours flat, but only by six minutes and 22 seconds.  I'm ok with that though, and feel very good about my effort on this ride.  I was even complimented by one of the magical four as I was going to the truck when he told me that I had ridden very strong today.  It had been a great ride, and a dry ride.

View the Garmin data here

After I had gotten home, I was still very much under the assumption that the magical four that I had played cat and mouse with for so long was the lead group to the ride, and I had come in right behind them.  It wasn't until I started to look deeper into the information provided by Strava about the other riders on the course.  It would appear that there was a rider that finished about 20 minutes before we had with an average speed of 23 mph!  There were a couple others behind him, so I'm not sure where exactly I placed, but that really doesn't matter at all to me.  I had a very strong ride, and like I said, I outpaced many a group of riders, and forced a paceline to catch me.  I had made a great showing for myself, and am very proud of that effort.  As a side note, to do this course at 23 mph is almost superhuman, and my hat is off to him!

So, It Has Been a Year

September 4th....why does that sound so familiar to me?  It's not my anniversary, not a birthday, Close to a holiday, but not quite.  Hmmm, why does that date stick out in my head?  Oh yeah, I remember.  It was the first day that I got back on a bike after ten months away from cycling.  Now that I remember the significance of that date, I can remember that day so clearly now.  Man, it sucked!!!  I thought I was going to die....but I had survived and figured that was a good sign of things to come.  I had a lot of questions back then, and I really wondered what kind of progress I would be making on the bike over time.  Looking back over the last 31,536,000 seconds, I have most, if not all of those answers.

This part of my life journey began with a bang.  Go big or go home as they say.  Having sold everything cycling related at the end of 2013, I had to start anew.  So I hocked the house, and sold my first born (just kidding, I would never sell my first born.  I just rented with the option to buy) to buy a bicycle and some cough....cough necessary items to go along with it.  Why did I go all out you ask?  Toni made me.  That's right, you heard me.  My wife kidnapped me, and took me to the bike shop, forced me to fill out a credit application, and made me sign my name on the dotted line. Seriously.....ask her!!  Looking back on that day, she might be reconsidering her position on things though.  Oh well, whether she liked the outcome or not, I was back into cycling again.  Whether or not I would be a "cyclist" again was yet to be determined.

You never forget how to ride a bike they say.  I guess that is right, but when you rode at the level that I had, you really question if you can come back at a similar level.  What I mean is, when I stopped riding in 2013, I had become an ultra endurance cyclist with a double century under my belt, and a total of 11 century (100 mile +) routes over the year.  I had climbed a category 1 mountain, and ridden the Blue Ridge Parkway.  In the calendar year, I had logged almost 6,000 miles!  My average speed was in the high 18's and I was into the 19's for shorter routes regularly.  This was after only two years of cycling, and I was 39 years old.  As I was returning to cycling, I was nearing the end of my 40th year.  I was feeling old, and just didn't think that I had it in my body to repeat that kind of performance on a bike.

That was probably my biggest question as I gave in to Toni's wishes (demands) to get back on the bike.  What would be reasonable to expect?  I knew that I would be slow, and would not have the endurance that I once had.  That was a no brainer.  But, would I be able to improve enough to match what I had once been able to do?  I doubted it actually.  I had promised myself that I would be happy just being able to ride, even if my rides were between 25-50 miles each, and my speeds stayed in the 17-18 mph range.  At least I would be able to get exercise which was a very big factor in my wanting to ride.

I started to make goals for myself and tried to set reasonable expectations.  First among my goals was to get rid of the extra weight I had packed on which was making me feel very uncomfortable.  I had grown to a solid 205lbs, roughly 20lbs in 10 months.  This played a large part in making me feel like crud.  I also knew that when I was riding, I had no problems with acid reflux, which had worked its way back into my world.  This added to me feeling like crap, and was just no fun at all.  Lastly, I was feeling a little less mentally balanced than I had when I was riding.  I wasn't sure exactly why, but would soon figure that out.  I found that for some reason, cycling really helped me deal with my PTSD, and the stress from being a police officer.  I wanted all of these issues to be addressed by riding, and felt pretty sure that they would be.

The next part to think about was my aspirations.  What would I reasonably be able to do on the bike this time?  I had all but given up on endurance riding, and was looking at just fitness riding.  I wasn't going to really know what kind of expectations I would have until I actually got on a bike and rode it.  That's right, you heard me.  I had just paid a stupid amount of money to get back into riding, and hadn't even been on a bike in close to a year.  I'm impulsive like that.

The smile is just there because I was finished!

September 4th, was that first ride on the new bike.  It was an interesting ride.  It felt familiar and comfortable, yet terrifying and exhausting all at the same time.  Yes I could still ride a bike, but about 30 miles was all I had in my legs.  After that, I was struggling.  I was slow too, slower than I had ever been on a road bike.  But I now had my starting point, and could start with the aspirations.  I felt confident that I could get at least a portion of the endurance back since I had ridden 50 miles on my first ride (20 of that was just no fun at all).  I was sure that my speed would increase...I mean I didn't even shift out of the little ring for the entire ride.  I saw potential though, and figured it would be possible to build my speed back to close to where it once was.

For some odd reason, I got in my mind that I was going to actually think about doing the Double Down to the Beach ride again in 2015.  I must have been crazy, that is 200 miles in one day...FOUR TIMES what I had just ridden.  I guess that is just the kind of guy I am though.  I go big or go home.  The more I rode, the more I started to plan out my coming year.  Not only did I want to do Double Down, I also wanted to do the Assault on the Carolinas.  I had done both of these in 2013, and figured that they would be an excellent litmus test to see how I was comparing with my return.  To those, I added A Ride to Remember, a three day 252 mile ride across South Carolina, and finally the Carolina Century, which I had done in 2013.  For training purposes, I decided that I was going to aim for 12 century routes (one more than 2013), which was one per month.

I was aiming big, and I knew that I might not be able to accomplish these aspirations.  Honestly, I was OK with that.  I just needed something to motivate me to get out and "train" when I was in such bad shape.  While I was formulating all of these hopes and dreams for the coming year, I ended up in a crash with a car.  While this should have put the brakes on all that I was planning, it actually fueled my desires for some odd reason.  While my bike was in the shop to be evaluated, I tried running so I didn't loose the momentum I had started.  What I found out was I'm not a runner.  I don't even think I could run away from something.  Maybe my feet are too big and cause too much wind resistance.  Maybe its because I have the form and flow of an electrified basset hound trying to run with two legs tied together.  Either way, I ran for about a week and that was all I could manage without needing to be hospitalized.

To make a long story short, I ended up with a new bike, and my damaged one back in my possession for use on a trainer.  This was just in time for the "off season" and I was able to take my riding indoors with interval sessions.  Despite this self imposed hell (still better than running), I found that my fitness was increasing by leaps and bounds.  Hey, I might actually be able to participate in the different events that I was hoping for!  Recalling the correlation between speeds on the trainer and speeds on the road, I was starting to see that not only was I going to be able to match my average speeds from 2013, but was actually getting faster.  The weight was coming off as well, which was making me feel much better overall.  This was really working out for me.

Looking a little more comfortable in the saddle in November

By November, I had my new bike, and I was able to get out on the road again.  It was on this ride I saw the results of the time on the trainer.  I was back, and pretty close to where I had left off a year previous.  I was well ahead of schedule in my training, and that fueled me to go at it harder than ever.  As the warmer days came, I tried to get out and ride for as much time as I could.  Exactly a week after my first ride (a metric century), I actually rode a full 100 mile century on November 12th!  This was about 5 months ahead of my expectations.  It was really looking like I would be able to tackle the double century, as well as the three day stage ride across SC.

Goals and Aspirations Realized

A healthier me!

Lets start with the most important part of this...my health.  Mentally, I was much more balanced.  My PTSD was very much under control after getting back on the bike.  I was no longer having irrational panic attacks before going to work, and while at work.  I was sleeping better, thanks to a calmer mind, and the lack of acid reflux.  I swear, it was like magic once I started riding again.  I had only one attack of acid reflux shortly after I started riding, but after that, it was gone for good.  A full year later and I haven't had a single attack, not even a light one.  That alone was worth the price of admission to ride again!  I was feeling better about my body as well, having dropped down to a pretty steady weight of 165-170 lbs which was a bit lighter than I had been before.  This made my clothes fit better, made me feel better in my own skin, and made me feel younger to boot.  I felt like a 20 year old kid again, and that was pretty cool!  I'm pretty sure I have found the fountain of youth, and it is called a bicycle.  My knees no longer creek, I don't get out of breath near as easy doing simple things like climbing stairs, or pushing cars out of the road.  I'm just generally in much better shape than I have ever been in before.

As before, I became addicted to speed on the bike.  I am always wanting to go faster, not necessarily talking about bombing downhill sprints (actually, I don't care for fast descents at all), but average speed over the course of a ride.  My one and only goal of 2013 that I didn't accomplish was to achieve a 20 mph average over the course of a 50 mile route.  Well, I missed that mark by a wide enough margin in 2013, that I couldn't even say I was close.  Now, a year after having my slowest ever 50 mile route, I have seen metric century routes in excess of 20 mph regularly!  In fact, I consider my training speed to be 20 mph now, and I have done 25 mile routes well over 21 mph as an average speed.  I would have never considered that a possibility before.  For my training rides around home, I was seeing on average a 2 mph increase in my average speeds from 2013.  I was still able to do the distances as well.  As of the writing of this blog article, I have completed a total of 11 century (100 mile +) routes so far.  I'm planning on another century tomorrow, to celebrate my first full year back in the saddle which will give me a total of 12.  Hey, that was my goal for 2015!  Counting the November one from 2014, I'm looking at 13 centuries in a year's time.  Another record broken!

2015 Assault on the Carolinas

So, my health and fitness levels were surpassing where I was at my peak in 2013.  How did that translate into the real world of cycling?  Well, my first test came early in the season with the Assault on the Carolinas.  This 100K route though North and South Carolina would test my climbing ability more than my endurance ability.  There were two significant climbs on that course.  The first one was Walnut Hollow, a short, but intense climb pictured above.  On that climb in 2013, I had almost cracked and I barely made it over.  This year, I had no problem, and actually passed a bunch of riders as I made my way up spinning relatively easily.  The second climb was the category 1 Caesar's Head which was about 7 miles of climbing totaling 2000 feet.  It was still a hard climb, but I averaged about 2 mph better than I had before, and didn't need to take a break at the top as I had before.  While my average speed was about the same at 17 mph, I actually did much better on the climbs than I had done before.  It was an outstanding experience, and it proved to me once and for all that the stationary trainer is worth its weight in gold!

2015 Double Down to the Beach

My second aspiration of the year came in June, and it was another repeat from 2013.  This was the Double Down to the Beach ride, the double century from Alamance Regional Hospital to New Bern.  I had really set my sights high for this ride, thinking that I would make it at an average speed of 20 mph.  With record heat that day, (my Garmin recorded a high of 113*F) I had to slow it down, and even then I was showing signs of heat stroke at the finish.  But finish I did, for a total ride of 201.62 miles at an average speed of 19.4 mph!  Even though I missed my 20 mph mark, I still blasted my 2013 pace of only 18.1 mph, so I consider that a win of the largest magnitude!  With the completion of this ride, I was comfortable calling myself an ultra endurance athlete once again.  I had proven to myself that I was still capable of riding that kind of distance in one day, and that had been very important to me.  To have done it at the pace that I did, in the heat I dealt with, was just amazing to me.  I love this picture because it shows so much in the expression of my face.  I was so close to passing out here, and I was in tears for having finished the ride with absolutely nothing left in the tank.  I had given it my all, and pushed myself to the breaking point which I had never done up to that point.  I knew exactly what I was made of, and what I was capable of.  It was much more than I had ever imagined.  There is something very emotional that happens when you reach that point, and quite literally meet a "you," that you have never known before.  I found out I'm a badass by the way!

Day 3, 2015 Ride to Remember

The next item on my bucket list was the Ride to Remember in South Carolina.  This three day stage ride across the state totaled 252 miles, with the 100 mile ride on the last day.  To be honest, this ride had me worried.  Not so much because of the distance, because I knew I could do the distance.  What worried me was the demands I would put on myself to ride hard each day, knowing that if I pushed too hard, I would have a miserable time in the latter segments.  This was a new ride for me, but an important one that I really wanted to do well with.  You see, it benefits the Alzheimer's Association, and Toni has a family history of this disease.  I was fortunate to be able to raise over $2500.00 throughout the year for this cause.  The ride itself is more or less the party at the end of the fundraiser, but I was going to make it into a personal challenge to push myself through.  The first day was pretty spectacular, not so much in distance (only 65.38 miles), but in my average speed.  I finished the day with a 20.9 mph average which was extremely strong for a metric century, with a fair amount of it done solo.  The second day was a longer day, at 88.49 miles and it was a bit hillier.  I made some bad decisions that left me out in the wind for pretty much the whole day as I refused to ride with any of the groups.  My average speed dropped to a moderate 18.9 mph largely due to me cracking in the last 20 miles or so.  I had been around 22 mph for most of the first half.  I regrouped, and returned for the last day which was just over 100 miles in length.  I rode like a man possessed that day, and had an average speed of 22.3 mph!  Not only that, but I ticked off my fastest 40K time ever at 59:46, an even 25 mph!!!  Only in my dreams would I have been able to accomplish that in 2013.

While training for these different events, I started to realize something.  Each month, since April, I had been riding over 800 miles a month. This was further than my longest month ever before, and I was doing it monthly now.  From April to July, I had ridden over 800 miles each month, and had done at least one century each of those months.  August started out as a recreational/fitness riding month and I concentrated on riding shorter, more fun routes mainly.  That was until I decided to start training for the Tour to Tanglewood in September.  Then I started adding distance routes again.  By the third week, I had set yet another goal for myself.  I was going to ride over 1000 miles in the month of August.  With a day to spare, I had logged a total of 1,004.02 miles in a single month with only one century ridden!

I don't know where I am going from here, but I can say that I'm now almost 42 years old, and I'm in the best shape of my life, and feel better than I have in my entire adult life.  Cycling has given me so much, and has introduced me to the coolest version of myself I have ever had the privilege of knowing.  I can't say enough positive things about cycling.  It is my fountain of youth, my therapist, my doctor, my church, my sensory deprivation chamber, and my safe place to blow off steam.  How something so simple can do all those things is beyond me, but there is no reason to try and figure out the why behind it.  I just bask in the results.

A year ago today, I had no idea where buying a bike would lead to.  Now that a year has passed, I can't imagine where I would have been without it in my life.  I am truly a cyclist in all respects.  I knew it would be a lifestyle change, but I never knew how much it could change my life until I saw both sides of the coin.

Now I have to get to sleep because I have an anniversary century to ride tomorrow!