Saturday
I pre-rode the Peaches & Lakes 200K brevet. The official brevet is next Saturday. However, because of a time trial that I want to do that day, I arranged with Daniel, the Peaches & Lakes coordinator, to pre-ride the course a week early. A pre-ride within about a week of a brevet is always a good idea, and so I figured my offer would help both of us.
I've done the Peaches & Lakes route a couple of times before as a permanent (see ride reports from 6/18/15 and 5/16/16), but this is the first time Daniel is running it as a brevet. (A brevet is put on the yearly randonneuring club calendar in advance, whereas you schedule a permanent with the route owner on a mutually agreeable date.) Daniel is running the brevet in the opposite direction of the permanent to make the control at Dickey Farms (peach ice cream!) the last one instead of the first one. Good call!
Dick, Neil, Robert N., and I met Daniel at the Waffle House in Thomaston to start the ride. After Daniel took care of our paperwork and wished us bonne route, we four riders headed out on a beautiful summer morning. Neil told us off the bat that he would be riding very slowly, and so Dick, Robert, and I soon pulled ahead. The three of us chatted about everything from historic places in Atlanta that we ought to visit to the pros and cons of living in The Netherlands during the 17th century. I've read a couple of fascinating books about the state-of-the-art science there at the time.
Speaking of books, I loved seeing this Little Free Library at High Falls State Park, which was one of our controls:
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| A Little Free Library at a state park - each makes the other even better! |
Because it was an open control, we opted for a quicker stop at The Honey Comb. The owners were so friendly and had plenty of water available.
It was only seven miles to the next control at Jarrell Plantation. Randonneurs USA (RUSA) required Daniel to set an information control along that portion of the route to keep riders from taking a shortcut down Highway 87. Daniel had a question in mind for us at the info control, but he had asked us pre-riders to scope out other possibilities. Later I told him that his original idea would work, or he could use a question that I suggested. I'll be curious to hear what he uses on the actual brevet next Saturday.
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| Scouting out the info control at Jarrell Plantation |
The peach ice cream at Dickey Farms sounded better and better. Although it was less than an hour's ride from Lizella to Dickey Farms, we didn't mind stopping again, especially for such deliciousness.
Dickey Farms was right at 100 miles into the route. The cool refreshment fortified us for the remaining 29 miles. Then, just seven miles later - adventure!
We turned right off of Hopewell Road onto US Highway 80, and a bridge was out! I couldn't help but laugh to myself, having encountered another bridge that was out on a ride only two weeks earlier. I didn't think twice about wading through the creek, but Dick was more hesitant. However, I convinced him to go for it.
This is a perfect illustration of the value of a pre-ride for a brevet. I let Daniel know about the bridge being out so that he can devise a reroute for the official brevet next Saturday. Also, he was able to contact Robert and Neil behind us so they could determine an interim detour.
I'm rather a heat lizard, but even I could feel the effects of the day's high temperatures. Also, I had forgotten that the final approach into Thomaston on Waymanville Road has some fairly beastly rollers. Having already ridden 125 miles on such a hot day, I found them rather buttocks-kicking on Saturday.
One highlight of the ride happened during this stretch, which gave me both a smile and a little mental relief. A deer was startled as I approached on my bicycle. She ran parallel to the road for a short distance, muscles rippling and coat shining in the sunlight - just beautiful. About 30 m after she ran into the woods, I passed a small side road called Doe Run.
At last Dick and I made it back to the Waffle House in Thomaston. We finished in 10 hours, 5 minutes. I usually finish a 200K in about 8.5 to 9.5 hours. Saturday's longer time didn't surprise me, though. We enjoyed the controls, and the heat certainly slowed us down. And, of course, there was the bridge that was out. We would have broken 10 hours if not for that.
Originally, I had planned to do my weekly grocery shopping after the ride and then cook dinner. Because I didn't get home until 7:00 PM, I opted simply to take a shower and scrounge up something to eat from what we had on hand. Fortunately, we had some leftover pesto chicken and pasta and some rosemary and olive focaccia. With fried okra on the side for greenage, Robert (husband) and I had a delicious if unconventional dinner.
I know a lot of people don't understand why someone would voluntarily ride 129 miles, particularly in nearly 100-degree temperatures. Some of it is being acclimated to the outdoors; although I much prefer heat to cold, I have found that the human body can adapt to all kinds of conditions. But besides that, a ride like Saturday's gives me this all-over fatigue like nothing else does. It's a uniquely odd but gratifying sensation.
Sunday
Earlier in the week, a guy named Keith, whom I know through mutual cycling friends in Atlanta, contacted me about maybe coming down this weekend for some dirt road riding. Although he's been a roadie for years, dirt road riding is new for him. I told him that I couldn't ride dirt roads on Saturday because of the brevet pre-ride, but Sunday afternoon would work for me. I figured that a mellow, hour-and-a-half dirt ride would make a good recovery ride. Besides, it had been a while since I had ridden in the Piedmont Wildlife Refuge (PWR), and I'm always glad to show this treasure to visitors.
I set our ride time for 3:00 PM, which gave me time for church that morning, grocery shopping, and a few household chores that needed attention. This also seemed like a good timeframe for dinner afterwards. Keith had offered to take Robert and me to dinner, but I explained the dearth of restaurants in Monticello, particularly ones open on Sunday evening. Besides, I was already planning to cook, and I enjoy it.
I rode my cross bike the four miles from my house to Adgateville Baptist Church, the meeting point that Keith and I had set up. I had mapped a 20-mile route and uploaded it onto my Garmin. Although I'm pretty familiar with the roads in the PWR and wouldn't actually get lost, having a map also gave me a certain level of comfort. Keith uses no electronic devices while riding, and so it wouldn't have helped even if I had sent him the route ahead of time. At least he studied the area on Google Maps ahead of time.
As always, it was a pleasant ride through the PWR. It felt at least 15 degrees cooler than riding on asphalt. I felt decent enough, considering the previous day's ride, but I knew I wouldn't be setting any power records. Fortunately, the pace seemed to suit both of us.
Mid-route, I decided to change course. I turned on Natural Bridge Crossing Road so I could show Keith a beautiful creek crossing where water flows across a fairly flat rock surface rather than in a typical creek bed. This would shorten the original loop that I had planned, but that sounded pretty good, too.
We continued riding. After a while, my Garmin showed me being back on course. Then, we came back to the same turnoff to Natural Bridge Crossing Road! I had looped back onto my original route! I decided to continue on the original route; we would wind up not with a shorter than planned route, but a longer one. Oh, well. At least I had my original course map back.
A few miles later, Keith got a flat tire. Both of us had extra tubes and supplies to change a flat, but this was a tubeless tire - not so easy to fix mid-ride. At first we tried riding really slowly, with Keith attempting to make do with the little bit of air still in the tire. We soon decided that it would be better for me to ride back to his vehicle parked at Adgateville Baptist Church and drive back to pick him up. In the meantime, Keith would make as much forward progress as possible.
I rode on at tempo pace. Less than a mile later, I passed a turnoff to the left. My route continued straight. Then, about a half mile later, I came to a gate with a stop sign. I knew this section well and simply lifted my bicycle over the gate as I have done a number of times in the past. However, I didn't want Keith to get confused. I sent him a text, telling him to go straight at the intersection, carry his bike across the gate, and continue on. Cell phone coverage is nonexistent in the PWR, but texts will still go through. I trusted that between my text and his brief scan of the map on my Garmin, which showed the remainder of the route being mostly straight, that he would stay on the correct route.
The flat happened about eight miles from the church. Therefore, it took me at least half an hour to get back. I texted Robert to apprise him of the situation, loaded my bicycle, and started backtracking in Keith's Kia. After a couple of miles, I saw a boy on a golf cart-type ATV. I made a mental note but didn't stop to ask if the boy had seen a cyclist because there's no way Keith could have made it that far from where I had left him.
I expected (hoped) to see Keith somewhere on this side of the gate. When I got to the gate without seeing him, I thought (hoped) he would be waiting at the intersection where I had texted him to go straight. I carried my bike back across the gate and rode down to check. No Keith. He must have turned left at the intersection instead of going straight like he was supposed to.
Because I couldn't drive past the gate, I had to drive back toward the church yet again. I knew how to get to the other side of the gate via another entrance to the PWR, farther south off of Highway 11. Driving as fast as the law would allow, a la Nancy Drew - and as fast as I thought Keith's vehicle could safely withstand on the dirt/gravel roads - I drove to the infamous PWR intersection near the gate and turned left.
This road dead-ended into...Natural Bridge Crossing Road! Hmmm. Which way might Keith have gone? The creek flowing over the rock was to the left. If Keith had turned that way, maybe he would recognize the crossing and stay put until I got to him. I decided to try that direction. If he weren't at the creek crossing, I would go back in the other direction on Natural Bridge Crossing Road. If I didn't find him that way...I'd cross that metaphorical bridge when I came to it. We had about an hour of daylight left. I started having visions of sheriff's deputies...
Hallelujah! Keith, in fact, was at the creek crossing! Most importantly, he was safe. He had started to worry that something had happened to me, but when I explained all the backtracking and sleuthing I had had to do, he understood why it had taken me so long to find him. Maybe that unintended extra route mileage was a blessing in disguise. Keith likely would have gotten the flat regardless. If we had stayed on the original route and not gone to the natural bridge crossing, we wouldn't have had this unique rallying point.
As we drove back to my house, I was flabbergasted to learn that Keith never carries his cell phone with him on the bike. Even if my text had gone through (I don't know whether it did or not), he wouldn't have gotten it. I hope he changes this habit immediately.
Keith said that his main protection on the bike is carrying a lot of cash and credit cards. If he sees a passing car or a kid on a golf cart, he can pay them to take him wherever he wants. Wha?? I was dumbfounded. First of all, most people would be glad to help out someone in distress and wouldn't/shouldn't have to be bribed. Also, as I told Keith, the deer don't take Visa.
Lessons learned: 1) Don't assume non-natives to my area will be prepared for fairly remote areas like the PWR. 2) Continue to be smart myself when I go in such areas. Don't be afraid, but maintain a healthy respect for the wild; carry enough supplies and gear, and most definitely let someone know where you are going and what your schedule is. 3) Staying calm and thinking logically, step-by-step really works.
So my intended hour-and-a-half recovery ride turned into a five-hour outing. But I guess all's well that ends well.
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