Oh My God.
That was a really tough ride last Saturday. It is Monday and my legs have finally stopped cramping and I managed to leave my bed this morning. I am ready to reflect on last Saturday morning's WBL#4, 92 miles to Bowman Ga.
|It was a sunny and cool morning as the riders congregated....|
|Faster, there are antelopes trying to cycle with us|
|Hey Kogan, I got your cadence right here!|
But it didn't matter, I slid off the back well before the end of the hill.When the front group gets to the top of the hill they make this sound like a war cry, kind of a cross between a long "woohoo!" and and Indian war cry from the movies. Seriously, they make that sound. I am thinking that this warbling call has some sort of meaning like, "hey I'm at the top of the hill and I still have enough wind left to do a warbling war cry!" Of course I now associate this cry with being off the back. Now, in case I am confused about where I am in relation to the peloton, when I hear that call I know I am at least 30 yards behind the last rider and heading backwards.
I did catch up with a few other guys who were off the back and we rolled in 5 miles later into the store stop like Antelopes on parade.
|Oh, hi there cheetahs! Been here long? Is there any Gatorade left?|
|Yummm, the sound of Antelope cracking!|
|Does anyone know a short cut home?|
|Honey, can you pick me up? I'm so tired I'm starting to look like John Kerry.|
|Slow down Cheetahs, I'm coming!|
Our little group was running out of steam, so in the place where the real ride gee'd, we haw'd and cut off about 10.5 miles from the 92 mile route. Fortunately, 10 miles represented the 30-40 minutes of time that the pack was ahead of us, so we were able to re-join the front group towards the end of the sprint zone.
I'm thinking to myself, "OhMyGod these guys are really strong. What the hell am I doing trying to keep up with these monsters?" Cruising towards home after the sprint, I rode along side the Cheetah Jefe. He said that this was a really fast day and there were a lot of pros pushing the pace.
I talked to another dude in the parking lot after we got back who said he had done every WBL for the last 3 years and that this was the hardest. I'd have been comforted except that he was 70 years old and didn't get dropped until the sprint zone (25 miles after I was dropped).
So I survived an abbreviated route, putting in about 80 miles. I am planning to bring my headphones to future rides so I can listen to music during those long lonely miles in the Georgia countryside dreaming of hanging with the pack. I may not be fast, but dammit I plan to show up.