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Friday, August 8, 2014

The Frenemy

I've long claimed that I don't train. I ride my bike to hang out with friends at good cafés, after taking in all the magnificent scenery on the way. I don't use a heart rate monitor. I don't do intervals. I don't race. I just ride my bike.

But the reality is that all that riding can have the side benefit of increased fitness. And sometimes I do seek out hills and make an effort to get up them in short order. But still this is not training, not in any structured way, not in any way that a coach would call training.

And to go along with my anti-training attitude, I have long resisted indoor exercise of any kind. I am no gym rat. For me, bad weather just makes an adventure more memorable. 

But since last autumn, my outdoor-only, non-structured, lackadaisical approach to exercise has been in a bit of conflict with my need to recover and regain some strength.

Initially, since it was all I could do, I walked. In fact I walked and walked and walked some more. I logged a lot of walking time last autumn, and found lots of interesting places to explore on foot. Of course, each time I walked on a new trail, I thought about whether it would be good for riding - because... ya know - I'm a cyclist! I did thoroughly enjoy my walks and found that I saw and took pictures of things I wouldn't necessarily see or stop to photograph on the bike.  We often talk about how we see so much more on a bike than in a car. Well slow it down a little more, and there's even more to see!

But as much as I enjoyed and appreciated my walks, it was always with the idea of getting strong again to get back on the bike.

Once out of the brace and freed to start doing some core strengthening, I started a structured PT program. Indoors. The first day that I was able to get on an indoor bicycle was very exciting for me! The thrill didn't last very long though. What is there to look at in the gym? Sorry, watching TV or watching other people suffer just isn't the same as seeing a sunset, or watching the wind-swept waves through a grassy meadow, or seeing the white tails of deer as they bound off into the woods. I quickly found I wanted to be outside. This was doubly enforced when I decided to do the Festive 500 indoors. After watching way too many videos and sweating and suffering way more than I ever would outside, I knew that indoor cycling would just never become a thing for me!

But since I still wasn't able to actually ride outside, I headed down to the Harvard Stadium. I'd heard about people who would run the stadium. This sounded really hard. I decided to start easy. The proper athletes run up the seats (at twice the height of the steps), and then run down the steps. They move from section to section, climbing each and every one of the 37 sections. I started slow. I walked up the steps, slowly. Then I walked down the steps using the handrail. Until you've lost all your core strength, you may not realize how much you use your core when going down stairs! This was truly enlightening. And while it wasn't quite the changing views one gets on a bike ride, at least I was outside, with sunshine and a breeze.


The first time out, I walked for about 20 minutes. Up the steps in one section down the steps in another. Until I ran out of handrail. I'm not sure why they only have handrail on just a few sections, but it probably saved me some pain the next day! As I was still quite weak and being pretty cautious, I stopped when this crutch of sorts ran out. Good thing. I could barely walk the next day. My calves were screaming!

A couple of days later, I went back, careful to stop after 20 minutes, and to stretch my calves lots.  After a few visits, I built up the strength and confidence to let go of the handrail. My calves had become accustomed to the workout, and now my abs and other core muscles got in on the action. 

I started going twice a week, and slowly added a little more time and distance. I worked my way around the stadium. I went from doing one section up, the next section down, alternating sections up and down - to halfway around, then all the way around, then all the way around and halfway back and finally all the way around and all the way back. The temperatures increased as I increased my strength and time. So I started carrying water bottles with me, to encourage me to swing my arms and to have something to drink along the way. 

Recorded with my phone. GPS signal isn't the most accurate. I really don't weave all over the place. The toughest thing is when strava says 0 feet of climbing, since the phone doesn't have an altimeter, and the maps don't have the elevation data for the steps!


And while it isn't the most exciting thing to do, it can be fun to watch teams who come out to practice on the field, or other walkers, or the folks who actually run the seats, and do pushups in between sections - the hardcore athletes. I even occasionally would meet a fellow stair walker and strike up a conversation. But usually it was just a wave or nod from afar, an acknowledgement that this is tough, and a thumbs up.



One day, I decided it was time to try the seats. Now this was a whole new level of effort and it really used glutes and lower back and hamstrings. Similar to my initial outings, I just did a couple of sections this way, and slowly started to build. 

But there is no coffee shop halfway around. The view really doesn't change much, and I can't say that I consider this fun - like a nice bike ride. But I am seeing my strength return, so I keep going back. It's like my old frenemy - the water tower. It's hard, but rewarding, and it's outside.



But speaking of the water tower, I finally made my return there on a bike a few weeks ago, before heading to a coffee shop.

Frenemy, indeed!



Friday, June 27, 2014

Green Mountain Double Metric

The alarm goes off at 3 AM. John silences it. The room is quiet. We drag ourselves out of bed and begin the pre-ride rituals. I do love to ride my bike. I do love the long rides. But I do hate getting up at this hour.

I brush out and re-braid my hair. Then I apply sunscreen to my face and arms and slather on plenty of chamois cream. This is going to be a long day, better add some more. I check the outside temperature. It's 59F. Heavy rain fell all day yesterday and continued overnight. The dirt roads we'll be riding on today will be soft and full of mud puddles. Looking out the window, I see light drizzle under the street light. I put on my shorts, arm warmers and leg warmers.

I take a few bites of bagel and some sips of cold coffee drink.

My RoadID hangs from a chain that I wear like a necklace. My primary contact is John, but it also says, "If on tandem, call Susan". The ritual of putting on this necklace is new for me since last September, when I discovered that not all EMTs know about back pockets on cycling jerseys. I was rather lucky that my phone wasn't broken when I was thrown from the bike, since I couldn't come up with phone numbers or addresses without it! Once I explained that I was actually lying on my phone (and wallet and ID), the EMTs, who already had me strapped to the backboard, were able to retrieve the device and possibly ease some of my discomfort from lying on all that stuff. The deputies were then able to use my phone to contact my cousin. I think someone eventually would have found the card in my wallet with all John's info on it, but it likely would have taken a while longer to contact my local hosts. 

So before I got back on a bike again, I ordered a RoadID. The first few times I went through the process of hanging this thing around my neck, I thought back to that fateful day and paused... Each time I returned from a ride safely and took the necklace off to hang on hook on the bathroom door, I felt a sense of relief.  Now it has become just another part of the pre-ride ritual, after applying sunscreen and chamois cream.

I pull on my 52 Vincents jersey. John and I don't normally dress like twins on the tandem, but we do sometimes fly team colors. When deciding what team kit to wear for this event, of course it had to be the 52 Vincents jerseys. Ride Studio Cafe made these jerseys for us a few years ago, when we joined up with 4 other friends to take part in a Rapha Gentlemen's race, as a team of 3 tandems. The team name was inspired by Richard Thompson's song, "1952 Vincent Black Lightning" which you can listen to here and see my revised lyrics. The 6 of us worked well as a team that day. We were strong. We had fun. We even won! And we survived "The Rapture."

I pull on wool socks and then step into my favorite brown leather shoes, which I'm sure will get completely covered in muck today, but they are tough and clean up well after abuse - like me. Finally I pull on a pair of nicely padded cycling gloves, my hat and helmet. Last up is my hi-vis reflective vest. In its pockets I have my cycling wallet and my camera. I think I'm ready. John has been going through the same process.

We maneuver the tandem out of our motel room and carry it downstairs, to begin the 5 mile ride out to the official starting point at the Eunice Williams bridge on Green River Road.

Riding the Green Mountain Double Century was not even on my radar until a few days ago, when Sandy Whittlesey sent email out to his list of regulars and casually mentioned a short option.

Some background: Green Mountain Double Century is one of the toughest double centuries around. It's 70% dirt roads with 20,000+ feet of climbing. But it's also one of the most beautiful rides we've done, with quiet country (dirt) roads running through dense forests and grassy farmlands in the Green Mountains of southern Vermont.

John has taken part every year since its inception in 2011. The first year saw constant rain for 20+ hours. John rode with his teammates, David and Matt. The next year, enticed by the prospect of amazing scenery and with the luxury of 40 hours allowed to complete the ride, Dena and I opted for a lower key approach, involving an overnight in a B&B, while John, David and Matt hammered out a lightning fast time.

Last year, Dena's impending motherhood meant I'd have to find a different riding partner, so John and I planned to ride tandem. But a mere week before the event, a wrong way cyclist hit me head-on and foiled those plans. So instead of getting ready for the race, I had collarbone surgery. John scrambled to get his single bike rideable, and on Saturday, Dena and I went for a hike in the Blue Hills, while John rode with his teammates again.

The rest of the summer went well, until it didn't. Regular readers know the story...

So this spring, we've been taking things one ride at a time. I quickly built up to 60 mile rides on a single bike, and had finally reached a point where a ride of that length didn't hurt so bad. I was occasionally even stretching things out to 90 miles, taking a full day with a nice long lunch stop and many photo-ops.

I do seem to have gotten over a bit of a hump recently. First, I'm getting stronger (and faster) physically. I'm still much slower than I want to be and hills are still more challenging than I'd like. The severe pain has mostly faded into a background pain. Of course bumps are much more noticeable than they used to be, but fatter tires at lower pressure helps. The other hump is the mental one. While I am still pursuing various means of pain relief, I have accepted that this pain is part of my life now, and just decided to HTFU and get on with it. 

Then Sandy's email about GMDC came in, mentioning a 135 mile (double metric) option. And I thought that maybe, just maybe, if we took the tandem and a camera, that it might be possible to do this nice hilly long dirt road ride in southern Vermont. So I sent a text to John: GMD-Lite - what do you think? And with that a plan was hatched.

I exchanged a bunch of emails with Sandy about the proposed short route. I coyly asked if it would include Kelley's Stand!

In 2011, Kelley's Stand was a primary feature of the race, but a few months after that first event, Tropical Storm Irene destroyed the road. So Sandy created a new route for 2012, and yet another new route for 2013. Each route has been lovely, but there was something special about the original route and Kelley's Stand, with its never ending series of 42 false summits. This year work is finally being done on the road, and it's passable by bike, so GMDC reverted to the original route. Sadly for us, one really has to do the full 200 miles to take in Kelley's Stand, but with this SoftLikeKitten 135 mile version, we'd still get in lots of great climbs, including Putney Mountain Road and, a special for the short ride, twisty winding descent off Stratton along with some spectacular scenery.

So this is how at 3:30 AM, we were pedaling away from our motel in Greenfield to ride out to the official start of GMDM at the Eunice Williams bridge.

Light mist coated my glasses. The forecast called for a clearing as the day wore on, so I wasn't too worried about a repeat of a full day of rain like the first year. Earlier in the week, John had talked about removing the fenders from the tandem, but no sooner did he utter those words than the forecast changed to one that demanded he leave them in place. John is likely the biggest offender in breaking my rule of not talking about rain during a ride. When will he learn? He mocks me for my aversion to the R-word. And each time he does, we get wet!

After a short spin along flat roads, the last flat stuff we'd see for a while, we arrived at the bridge to be greeted by a big bear hug from Sandy. We had hoped our friend, Ted, would join us for a fun day out, but it seems he wasn't able to get the night off work. We'd also heard that Russ and CK would be riding, but they opted for an even shorter version with a later remote start. In the end, Rick was the only other rider planning to take the shortcut, while half a dozen others were aiming for the full monty.

As we were milling about waiting to start, Dave, who was acting as photographer for Matt R., came over to greet us and snap a few photos. I pulled out my point and shoot and asked if he would mind getting a shot with it, but then I couldn't get it to turn on. Seems I'd forgotten to recharge the battery, again! Bummer, that would put a crimp in my picture taking plans. At least John had his small camera. So there was still some hope of photo-op breaks. 

Dave C. captured the drizzly start well


4AM arrived and with very little ceremony, we were on our way. The route started out the very gradual climb along the Green River Road. Knowing that one can't complete the ride in the first 5 minutes, we took our time warming up. Matt R. hammered off the front, never to be seen again.

John seemed unusually subdued. It turned out that he hadn't slept well at all the night before, thanks to the noisy air conditioner in our hot room. We rolled along in silence for a while. Well, in the silence of a forest at 4AM, with the sound of the river gushing downstream and birds starting to chirp as dawn arrives. This chorus accompanied the noise from our 42mm Hetre tires struggling against a soft wet sandy surface. A knobbly tread would have come in handy in the early going, and admittedly we had some fishtailing at times, so there was even the occasional squeal from the back of the tandem. We both were confident that conditions would get better as the roads dried out. But in the meantime, John showed great restraint on descents and we had to put in some extra effort on the climbs to maintain traction.

At least it wasn't actively raining. Wow! Did I really say that? Well not out loud at least. But apparently I thought it, and mist again began to cloud my glasses. The early morning fog hung low and gave a spooky feel to the landscape. After one descent, we came to a left hand turn, where Sandy was waiting to keep folks on course. Between the excellent cue mounted in the bar bag and our GPS units, we had no trouble navigating through the quiet country lanes and forest roads. A short while later, we skirted around Brattleboro and again found Sandy waiting to warn of slick conditions on the steel deck bridge. Jon and Matt C. were just making their way across the bridge when we arrived. We stopped briefly to chat with Sandy, but then we decided to try and reel in Jon and Matt to chat with them for a while. These two guys would be heading off in a few days to do the Cascades 1200km ride, and this was their final tune-up. While it may seem a bit insane to wear oneself out the weekend before a 1200km, we figured that these climbs might make the west coast climbs seem tame. Indeed, they successfully completed the ride in the Cascades, so perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea. Our quartet rolled along chatting and barely noticed as the road pitched up to climb over Putney Mountain. [John: What?!?] The descent, on the other hand, definitely caught my attention. It's rough at the best of times, but given our earlier fishtailing, John decided to show amazing caution and restraint. Soon enough we were at the bottom and rolling along some more gentle terrain towards Grafton.

But then we spied a 3-dimensional turtle crossing the road. 3-D as distinguished from the flat 2-D versions I've seen too many of lately. John turned back and decided to make an effort to keep this one from becoming 2-D as well. Using the frame pump, he attempted to escort the little snapper on his way across the road safely. Snappers are able to snap at things halfway around their shells and do damage to helping hands with their strong beaks, so simply lifting one to carry it across the road is ill-advised. A friend recently suggested to me that one can use spare clothes to cover the head and then lift them, but I had no spare clothes and wasn't willing to take any off at this point!




Once this diversion was complete, we hit some truly tandem friendly terrain and made good time rolling down to Grafton, where we ordered breakfast sandwiches and filled our tummies with muffins. I also took this opportunity to do a lot of stretching and relaxing. I have a few stretches I can do on the bike, but the most effective ones are done off the bike, so I tried to take advantage of the off-bike time.

After downing our breakfast, we rolled along and chatted away with Jon and Matt a bit longer. Our route split off from theirs about 5 miles up the road from Grafton, so we wished them luck and tailwinds and all that.

Once the routes diverged, we found ourselves on the creatively named Popple Dungeon Road. John and I have explored this area a bit in the past, and I soon recognized that we'd be passing by a nudist camp. Mosquitoes must love this road!

We then had a long paved descent down to Londonderry, followed by a slog up toward Stratton Mountain. We arrived at the Windhall store in Bondville around 11AM and decided to have an early lunch. Fortunately, we didn't overdo it, as the climb afterwards up to Stratton was brutal. We were next rewarded with an amazing descent along Pikes Falls Road. This was a notable new-to-me road as it was a gem. The scars from Irene were still quite evident in the river bed next to the road, but the condition of this road suggested it had been completely rebuilt since the storm.

As instructed on the cue sheet, I had texted Sandy at Bondville - the text said something like "from Dungeons to Bondage." He replied to text him again when we reached Route 9 in Marlborough. When we reached the next store mentioned on the cue sheet in Jamaica, it hadn't been that long since our lunch stop. John asked if we needed to send another text, and I relayed Sandy's response. What I didn't think about was that this was also the last store on the cue sheet and maybe we should stop to top off with water. I also didn't factor in how Sandy puts the hardest climb on the route at the end.



Now I'd looked at the profile and knew we'd have a long downhill finish, but I hadn't looked closely enough to see that we'd hit the highpoint on the course just before it, and we would have to work really hard for that long descent.

The first hint of trouble was where the cue sheet said turn right on Holland Road with this comment from Sandy - "totally sucks - sorry!" Well, thanks for the warning Sandy! And, to answer the eternal question, no, Holland is not flat! It was seriously steep and we climbed and climbed and climbed some more. Our water was starting to run low and it was finally getting warm.

But we did occasionally catch sight of a nice view. Then we finally reached the top of the world - well ok, just the crest of the ridge that is known as Hogback - and the views were truly amazing as we rolled along this ridge for a while. John finally remembered he had a camera and we stopped for a few photos as we enjoyed the highlight, as well as highpoint of the route.






Soon after we reached route 9, and I sent our final text to Sandy. His reply came back that he'd see us soon.

And soon was not an understatement. We were now on a tandemnügen descent back to the finish, and we hammered. Shortly after passing through the covered bridge that features as the lunch stop on D2R2, we dropped out of warp speed, just as we saw Sandy heading up the road toward us. We rolled along together chatting away sharing our stories of the day.

We reached the official finish exactly 12 hours after starting and Sandy presented us with bags of peanut butter M&Ms - our hard-earned finishers' awards. We then all rolled into Greenfield together. Sandy headed back out to go greet Rick next, while John and I got our first coffees of the day at Greenfield Coffee!

What an absolutely glorious day out on a bike.

For sale: Cassette and chain, used once only

I mentioned a few months back that I was granting myself the courage to fail this year. But I also said while my goals wouldn't be epic, that they would still be worthy. SoftLikeKitten Green Mountain Double Metric met that criteria.




This year's revision to the lyrics...


Said Pamela to John, that's a fine tandem bike
A girl could feel special on any such like
Said John to Pamela, well my helmet's off to you
It's a Seven Titanium, two-oh-one-two
And I've seen you at the corners and cafes it seems
Pink wool and black lycra, my favorite color scheme
And he pulled her on behind
And down to Greenfield they did ride

Said John to Pamela, here's a granny ring for the big climbs
But I'll tell you in earnest I'm a dangerous man
I've descended like a demon since I was seventeen
I ridden many a mile on my two wheeled machine
Now I'm 41 years, I might make 42
And I don't mind dying, but for the love of you
And if fate should break my stride
Then I'll give you a disk brake to slow the ride

Come out, come out, email came from Sandy
For I've made a special short route for GMD
The climb up Holland Road left nothing inside
Oh, push harder, Pamela to help John's dying thighs
When they got to the top, there wasn't much left
They weren't was running out of road, but they were running out of breath
 But he smiled to see her cry
And said we've got 25 miles of downhill to ride

Says John, in my opinion, there's nothing in this world
Beats a gnarly descent and a nearly fearless girl
Now Santanas and Treks and Burleys won't do
They can't catch the Seven wearing Vincent 52
He reached for her hand and he slipped her the cue sheets
He said I've got no further use for these
I see Sandy on a bicycle in lycra and chrome
Swooping down the hills to ride with us home
And they rode the last miles and sighed
Almost sad that this was the end of the ride

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

DROVES 2014 - Day 3

Dirt Roads of Vermont Early Summer 2014


Photos from other DROVERS

from Steve and Carolyn
Day 1 and 2
Day 3

from Henry

-------------------------

Constantin arrived late Sunday night bringing yet another new set of fresh legs. But before he could climb away from all our tired legs that morning, Chef Henry cooked up some fabulous Dutch pancakes. 

The forecast for the day was classically Irish, and this one proved to be classically accurate. It was cloudy and showery and sunny and showery and sunny and cloudy and showery. Every time it started to rain, a few folks would stop and put on jackets. As it continued more people would stop and don jackets. Once everyone had stopped to put their jackets on, the rain would stop and the sun would come out. Then various folks would stop at different times to remove jackets. Once the last jacket was removed, it would start to rain again, on cue. Repeat this pattern for 6 hours and you have our day. This is classic Irish weather !

A bit grey at the barn this morning

In the land of giant nuts, bolts and jacks!



A regrouping turned into sheltering while a shower passed by

Despite having fenders on her bike, Carolyn has dirt freckles thanks to lack of fenders from riders ahead!

Shadowy evidence of occasional sunshine


The Seven Cycles Evergreen marketing campaign continues!

Ted seems happy with his new Evergreen


Puking Pig fountain at Lyndon Institute


A wee bit of dirt

Bike washing seemed very popular over the weekend


In between the clothing changes, we also enjoyed more exquisite scenery, lovely smooth dirt roads, brutally rough paved roads, lots of climbing, lots of descending, a few loose dogs, various sightings of hogs, llamas, sheep, and cows, and some pretty impressive logging equipment.

Despite the wet conditions, cameras were out frequently.

I had announced at breakfast that the lunch stop was pretty late in the ride and that I could not confirm that it would actually be open on Memorial Day. I learned my lesson on Easter Sunday about counting on stores being open and announcing a lunch stop to a hungry group of cyclists!  In previous editions of DROVES, we'd ridden this route on Saturday, and I could not find a website for the wine shop/lunch stop to check their hours. Despite my warnings at breakfast, the questions about lunch started about 15 miles into our 66 mile ride. No one ever listens to the announcements :-(

I must say when we arrived in Danville and found that the wine store was indeed open, I was quite relieved! No lynching of route designers today. Our timing was also perfect as the sun came out and we enjoyed a lunch of cheese and salami and crackers, a perfect accompaniment to the wine we did NOT buy, much to the shopkeepers disappointment. At least I'm blaming the lack of wine sales for his less than chipper demeanor.

Next up we had a couple more big climbs and a few covered bridges to pass through, as well as the mandatory photo-op at the Puking Pig water fountain near Lyndon Institute. The final climb up Darling Hill came as a relief to our well abused legs, but was bittersweet as it meant our holiday was almost over. Everyone seemed quite content to stop for more photos, and then go for one more ice cream in the village before heading back to the barn.

Most of the group showered and packed up to head home after helping to finish off the leftover Dutch pea soup. But 5 of us stayed for a final night, and got to enjoy the sound a rain hammering down on the metal roof throughout the night. I, for one, was quite happy not to be driving home in those conditions.

The next morning, we enjoyed a last breakfast and then said "au revoir" to the barn for the weekend.

We had to take care not to leave Burke with cool cat, Megatron, in our car. Megatron is the sweetest friendliest cat, and he seemed quite eager to check out our vehicles as we packed up. Just don't tell Izzi and Cocoa!










We have a few other adventures tentatively planned for the summer, but plan to be back in East Burke over Labor Day for ANVILS - Ascending Northern Vermont In Late Summer (or with Lovely Scenery). Hammering may happen. Barn space will go quickly!

Monday, June 9, 2014

DROVES 2014 - Day 2

Dirt Roads of Vermont with Exquisite Scenery - Day 2


We woke to brilliant sunshine, making it much easier to hop out of bed after a hard ride the day before, finished off with good food and drink and late night shuffleboard. We got the day started right with Neil's delicious Steel Cut Oats and some pancakes with real Vermont maple syrup.

Next up, Neil definitively showed off that he brought some fresh legs as he powered up the first climb and then every one after that. Fortunately for him, the exquisite scenery distracted us from knocking him down and beating those fresh legs with our pumps.

As well as providing a great contrast of fresh legs versus tired legs, that first big climb also brought us up to a ridge with more of that exquisite scenery, including the peaks of Burke Mountain and what we refer to as Radar mountain. One of our alternate DROVES routes takes in the gated off very steep multi-surface road to the top of this mountain where one can wander around reading signs warning of asbestos on all the abandoned buildings in this old cold-war radar installation. We've been up a few times over the years and a few folks even rode up it in the snow last year, when John decided to use the descent to bed in his brand new disk brakes! However there were no takers this year - maybe we'll get back up there in the autumn.

Anyway back to the day at hand. A bit farther up the road, the Sheffield Wind Turbines could also be seen off in the west, along with the very distinctive Willoughby Gap.

Burke Mountain, rising above the clouds

The gang is ready to go

more lovely Vermont hardpack roads

What a spectacular day for a ride!


The skies were lovely and blue with big fluffy clouds that just demanded we stop and document it all in photographs.

More climbs and descents along perfectly smooth Vermont hardpack dirt roads led us past what we initially thought to be a lemonade stand. We all came to a rapid halt and found two adorable little girls selling bracelets and necklaces and earrings made from rubber bands braided together - for $1 each. We bought their entire inventory, with at least one smart-arse rider asking if they had change for a hundred dollar bill!


Geoff never seems to get tired!




Bernie couldn't get enough on day 1 and came back for more (wedding plan avoidance)

The rock provides amazing shelter along with a lovely view of Lake Willoughby down below.

We earned this screaming descent




The route for the day was short at only 45 miles, but with 5500 feet of climbing, it was to be a tough day. Heading north from East Burke, we circumnavigated Bald Mountain, climbing over the shoulder 4 times! But in addition to all the climbing, we also had some phenomenal screaming descents as rewards and to really put all the new disk brakes to the test. They were all definitely bedded in after this ride!

After a scrumptious lunch at the Willoughby Lake Store (which we are so happy to see doing well), we began the long hard climb on Long Pond Road. What is it with road names that include the word - pond? Do they all go up forever? This was a good climb to ride at digestive pace - which is not, and let me repeat not, edge of puking pace, but a speed well below the VO-Puke threshold. The climb was followed by another screamer of a descent, which ended in a 180 degree turn onto the steepest cruelest climb of the day. Fortunately after that we soon hit a fast and smooth paved descent and all was forgiven. Sometimes it's risky being a route designer!

Henry couldn't resist ice cream at lunch




Henry's (also) fresh legs were ready for more, so when we got back to the barn, John, Rob, Ted and Henry headed off to ride up Burke Mountain, while the rest of us rode the mile down to the village for ice cream.

Ted, John and Henry not quite atop Burke Mountain

Rob with his back to Willoughby Gap

Sadly, for all the effort, the lads were prevented from getting to the top, as there was a race taking place on the top mile of the mountain road, with skateboarders and longboarders having a great time flying down the upper slopes at speeds exceeding 50mph! Actually this was just practice runs. The race was scheduled for Monday.




Back at the barn, guacamole and chips were again a big hit. And beer sharing and sampling continued. Another great dinner followed. Henry made Dutch pea soup, while Geoff grilled a small cow. Salads, ravioli and veggies completed the menu, followed by pie complete with birthday candles.

The pyromaniacs did another great job with a fire, followed by more Dutch Shuffleboard, and finally some well earned sleep before a final day of riding on Monday.