Friday’s surgery went according to plan. We spent longer at the hospital than I wanted to, but everything came out fine and I wasn’t even really doped up for the ride home. I was sporting a gigantic bandage that wrapped most of my right arm though. The doctor told me, “Don’t shower until Sunday.” With a 200k scheduled for Saturday, I knew it was going to be a feast for the nose.

Sunday morning I ditched the bandage, knowing that it was scheduled to get in to the nineties temperature wise. I would have soaked straight through it. That left the temporary stitches and some of that red/orange iodine pigment to keep it company. It wasn’t looking too pretty.

To keep things completely out of hand, I decided early on to take my Independent Fabrication out fixed wheel. The gear ratio is great on my flat commute to work, but I wasn’t totally sure I would survive on it over 125+ miles of rolling hills.

I set out into the dark to catch the 6am ferry to Bremerton. I saw quite a few other riders, most opting for “normal” jerseys instead of the fashionable wool SIR jersey. Chris and I rode the 400k in wool, saw 100 degree temps up the passes, and lived to tell the tale, but I wanted to be as comfortable as possible.

Matt pulled a Houdini again and managed to be the last guy on the ferry. Once again, we were sure he missed it when he popped out of nowhere to say hello. Matt had talked his friends Dennis and John in to doing the ride with us and giving this randonneuring thing a shot. People were quizzing me down about the surgery and how everything went. I was kind of surprised at how many people actually read this thing. I figured it was just my mom and wife (hey guys!). While in line I had mentioned that I got it done the day before and a woman said, “You had surgery yesterday!?” She turned to her husband. “Well, he is a randonneur. Crazy.” I didn’t have my arm in a sling and I left the vicodin at home (unfortunately).

There were tons of riders at the start. Lots of people that haven’t put many miles in this season were back on their bikes. I said hello to Paul “Dr. Codfish” Johnson and checked out his beautiful Tournesol bicycle. He seemed to be sure that I wouldn’t see him again that day, so we said our goodbyes.

We all got into a nice and steady tempo from the start. I pulled whenever possible because I don’t feel like I’m getting a ton of benefit from drafting on the fixed. My poor legs can only spin so fast. The (overly) large gearing was nice on the flats and descents though. My legs didn’t get too whipped.

I spent some time riding with good folks like Jack Brace and chatted a bit, but I spent a good chunk of time just setting my own pace. There are a ton of strong riders that can take me out over the distance, regardless of what I am riding. It gives me a pretty good judge of how I am doing for the day to see who I am riding amongst. Believe me when I say that I’ve been in every group possible this season.

I managed to reach the second control at roughly 50 miles in just under 3 hours. I was close behind John who was riding strong out of the gates. He looked really fresh most of the day. My plan was to stick it out with Matt for the day. He was nice enough to wait back for me when I was hurting on the last 200k. At this control, waiting was no problem because there was tons of amazing food and drinks.

The volunteers were trying to talk us in to writing out poetry for the poem edition of the newsletter. There was tons of infectious energy coming from everyone manning the controls.

John and I waited a surprising 20-25 minutes for Matt and Dennis to make it in. I found out later that Dennis had missed breakfast and was crashing early. Riding with no fuel is brutally difficult. It is really hard to replace that lost energy on the road while you are already burning it off. Hell, on these rides it is hard enough replacing the calories burn when you have a good breakfast.

Matt put it pretty well when he stated that he wasn’t “looking to win any time records” that day so we all dropped pace a bit and enjoyed ourselves. The first part of the day held perfect weather, beautiful scenery, and lots of shaded roads with little headwind.

The four of us were still in a group when we missed the proper turn for Old Belfair Highway. We took A turn, just not THE turn that we needed to. It looked like a highway. It wasn’t signed (like Old Belfair), and it seemed to go generally the correct direction. We racked up about 14 extra miles on a terrible stretch of road with heavy traffic and little shade. The day was starting to really warm up. I could see the pain on Dennis’ face when we would slow down to check our cue sheets. It was going to be a long day for sure.

Once we found the proper street, it was a short distance to get to the leg burning Bear Creek Dewatto Rd. This wouldn’t have been too bad if I had… well… gears. It was an 8% grade for half a mile and slightly less than that for quite a bit longer than that. I wasn’t running any computers, so I am not quite sure how it all worked out, but I know that my legs were hurting. To make things worse, there tree line was cut back so there was no shade and it was in to the hottest (feeling) part of the day.

John and I found some shade on the descent from the top and decided to wait for Matt and Dennis. We spent maybe 15 minutes but they didn’t seem be coming. A couple passed on a tandem and said that they were coming, but that they were taking their time. We waited a bit longer, but finally decided to push on. We both wanted to get some food in our bellies.

The next control was at a surly looking Texaco that didn’t look really excited to have the spandex crowd sitting on their sidewalks eating chicken strips. We weren’t harassed, but it wasn’t a completely welcome environment. We waited long enough to finish our food for Dennis and Matt, but they were a no show. I know in the back of my mind that these rides are a personal experience, and that people shouldn’t hold you back, but I was really disappointed to lose track of Matt especially. We have been pretty solid riding partners this season, especially on these shorter rides.

We pushed on through some roads that I remember breaking down on at the last 200k. I couldn’t keep up with John on the downhills and he looked strong so I just took it at my own pace. Miles 80-100 were definitely my low point of the day. I couldn’t seem to keep a good pace up, but I knew that it was good enough to make my time cut offs. I am pretty sure that my legs were just worn out. I still felt pretty great overall, just tired.

I ran in to Dr. Codfish as he was coming out of a Chevron a few miles before the Hood Canal bridge. He was completely shocked to see me again. I rode with him a bit, and would have stuck with him if our next stop wasn’t the “Liquid Carb Control” stationed at the Hood Canal Brewery. I had a feeling that Paul would take a short turn at the control, and I wanted ample time to have a beer and some food. I pushed on as quick as possible so I could get some beer in me.

John and I rolled into the brewery warehouse about the same time and I was pleased to get out of the sun. SIR was paying for the first beer which was amazing. I drank it a little too fast but I am sure that it was delicious. Paul was in and out of that control before John and I could even get our butts out of our seats.

Here is when we got word that Matt and Dennis had bailed out of the ride. It had been a really rough day on Dennis and I don’t blame them. We didn’t have cell reception for most of the day so I was having trouble contacting Matt.

After shoving a hot dog down my throat we pressed on for the final 20 miles.

I lost John at a stop light and figured that he would catch up in no time. He looked stronger than me all day, so I didn’t feel too bad about climbing out ahead of him. I wanted to catch up to Dr. Codfish so we could chat a bit about the meaning of life and what not.

Glancing at the clock on my phone, I realized that there was no way that I was going to make the 6:40 ferry. There was no point in rushing to the finish since the next boat didn’t leave until 7:55. I caught up with the doctor and he warned me that I shouldn’t bother waiting for him. He was grumpy and feeling sick to his stomach. I hung back with him anyways. At the very least I could hold off until John caught up with us.

Paul sounded pretty wheezy up the hills but was chugging along just fine. He seemed pleased to have someone to talk to. It was probably a blessing to be riding along with him too, because I almost missed another turn until he pointed me in the correct direction.

Somewhere along the waterfront, we were honked at. Keeping my middle finger in check, I glanced over to see John hanging out the window of an SUV. He was hitching a ride to the ferry! Apparently he crashed hard with only 10 miles left. I felt really bad that I wasn’t there with him. I’m sure I could have talked him out of quitting. Still, he had quite a distance under his belt for the day.

Paul and I putted into the finish for some Belgium frites and soda.

John was on the curb looking pretty wiped out. We both grabbed the 7:55 ferry home and laid out on the benches. It was a long (and beautiful) day on a bike.

This entry was posted on Monday, August 18th, 2008 at 7:49 am and is filed under bicycling, sir. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.