New Holland 200K

It was a hot afternoon. Even now, sitting in the house as the last light of the June sunset languidly eases into the horizon, my body radiates heat. It's as if the afternoon sun soaked deep into my flesh the way summer heat soaks into asphalt and concrete and then lingers before it finally releases into cooler evening air.

The morning started off cooler. We met just before dawn. The New Holland 200K is the last 200K of the Pennsylvania 600K that started the day before. Some of the 600K riders who arrived in the night would start at 5:00 am with those of us just riding the 200K.

On the last day of Winter: Lackawanna 200K

The first edge of sunrise lightens the sky. The surrounding woods slowly materializes from the darkness. Close to thirty randonneurs are here, ready to set out on the Lackawanna 200K. Bill, acting as ride organizer, gives the pre-departure briefing. Outside of the Hostel, sharp crisp air reminds me that it is the last day of Winter, not yet Spring.  It's been a long time since I rode a Pennsylvania brevet. My mind wanders. Standing here, in this familiar setting, on the landing outside the hostel as the dawn breaks, random memories of past rides seem to emerge with the daylight. I relive them without intervention, a raft of consciousness floating on a slow river of thought. Collectively, they carry me back to this time, this place. I have ridden before but each ride is different. Am I wearing the right layers? I don't want to be too cold or too hot. I just want to ride. It's time to ride. Let's go.

Sometimes a brevet is just a bike ride from then to now to next. Stillwater Retour 200K

Two weeks after riding around Lake Ontario, the recovery is well underway. Now, in between family and work, comes the thinking about, and preparing for, the next big thing, the farthest ride yet that is now just two months away. One thing about randonneuring, there is always another big thing.

Since the last big thing, after the three days it takes for my foggy mind to recover, during the two weeks it takes for the body to recover, I've been cross training a little. But, to prepare for a big brevet, you have to ride the bike. Luckily, sometimes, a brevet is just a bike ride.

PA 300k: Grace and Humility

A while back, when I began Randonneuring,  I was talking to the husband of a friend of my wife - which kind of makes us friends by some marital variation on the transitive property of equality but not the kind of friends who do stuff together when the wives aren't involved which is kinda odd when you think about it in detail - but, I digress. Anyway, I tell the guy - I will call him "the guy" to protect his identity and because basically his real name is really not what this is about  - I said to the guy - 

"Yeah, we do these long bike rides under a time limit. The shortest distance is 200k  - about 125 miles- and the longest is about 1200K -about 750 miles.

Now the guy was no couch potato. He had ridden a bike across the country and had lots of  real outdoor adventure trips under his proverbial belt. When I tell the guy about the sport, he replied with something to the effect of  

"Wow, you must have some real demons chasing you." 

That kind of took me aback. Because even then, I knew that ultra distance bike riding is one sport where the one thing you cannot escape is yourself.

That conversation came to me again during the arduous 300K that the PA Randonneurs put on yesterday. In the course of that ride, I came face to face with some unexpected realities. But instead of demons, I would call them angels. And each of them had a name.

2014 Fleche: A video

The annual 24 hour ride called the "Fleche" took place this past weekend.

2014 April 200K - a change in perspective.

Given a choice of climbing vicious hills or riding into hours of unrelenting headwinds, some Randonneurs will choose hills and some will choose headwinds.

But some will choose both.

Pennsylvania Blue Mountain 200K - Riding on winter legs.

The dawn of the first Saturday of Spring came crisp and cold with a hint of possible rain. The edges of the waning moon glowed softly through a thin cover of clouds. 

Thirty-four riders gathered in and out of the Milford New Jersey bakery, milling, queuing and circulating before the start of the brevet. The big turn out after an unusually cold and snowy winter brought some faces I hadn't seen since summer, others of friends with whom I rode over the winter and a few not yet met. A rush of excitement, a mix of eagerness and uncertainty, familiar and unknown, animated the morning. This felt like a beginning,  a new season, the start of things to come.

New Holland 200k - Skipping rocks across time

Sometimes a brevet fools me into thinking that it is one event, one story to be told. Maybe because the rides have a start, a finish and lots of stuff happens in between. Maybe because my mind wants to follow the path of time, connect the experiences along the way and have them make sense. That is a trait of the human mind after all, to try to find some order in the chaos. 

But then something reminds me that just because things happen sequentially doesn't necessarily mean they connect in any other way. Real human stories have a way of skipping through time, like rocks bouncing on the surface of a pond leaving intersecting ripples as they pass. Sunday was one of those reminders . . . .

Blue Mountain 300K - River lessons.

April 21, 2013

The Delaware River, inky black under the pre-dawn sky, flows on our left. It speaks in a thousand whispered voices. It sings forgotten songs that play at the shores of remembrance. It echoes the vibrato of unstoppable, ancient power. It reverberates with the timeless sound of patience and persistence.

Hawk's Nest 200K - Playing in the street.

Today, I went to the mountains to play in the street.

Ted saw a black bear. He took a picture of it. The  picture shows the black bear standing, nose to ground, next to a white swing set. Its body seems half the height of the swing set.  Thick, rich, black fur. Either Ted has very good zoom or that bear was close.

Ted saw the black bear on the long climb on Route 390 toward Promised Land. I made the long climb toward Promised Land but I didn't see the bear. Maybe it wasn't there when I went by or maybe I was just focused on climbing, turning the pedals, passing the bottom of the ski lift and the "antique store" where "antiques" fill the front yard like a mashed confusion of history's droppings.

Ted showed me the the picture at the next controle, an Exxon Mini Mart:

The Pennsylvania Randonneurs 600K - There once was a man on a bike

  

There once was a bike ride through Limerick

It is about 9:00 a.m. on Saturday morning and I think that I am finally, completely, awake. Yes - the ride started at 4:00 a.m. Yes - five hours later, the sun is up, over 60 miles have gone by and Yes - I have already gone through two of the ten on course controls. But here and now, reality has set in. I am here. Now.

I waken in the midst of a 20 mile climb toward Promised Land. 20 miles of ever increasing grade - steep, followed by steeper. 20 miles until we reach the highest point on the elevation profile. 20 miles of reminder that this is a Pennsylvania brevet. 20 miles of reminder that I am not built for fast climbing. 20 miles of this is what you signed up for. 20 miles of reminder that I still have over 300 miles to go. That realization now has my full attention.

PA Randonneurs Blue Mountain 400K

The 2012 Pennsylvania Randonneurs' Blue Mountain 400K provided a course that would test the 30 plus Randonneurs who signed up to ride the brevet. To complete the 250 mile route, they would have to climb hill after hill after mountain that added up to 18,899 feet and 126 miles of up. To put that in context, consider this: Denali (Mount McKinley) is the highest mountain peak in North America and, when measured from base to peak, it is also the world's tallest mountain on land. The base to peak elevation of Denali is 18,000 feet. In one day, the Randonneurs would climb the height of Denali.

Treat yourself to the best - The PA Randonneurs Water Gap 300k

On Saturday morning, the sound of the alarm clock ringing at 1:45 a.m., set off a heated discussion in my brain. 

Right brain - "Oh man it's early."

Left brain-  "The 300K starts at 4:00, I have to leave by 2:15"

Right brain - "It's still too early, sleep for ten more minutes."

Left brain - "Gotta get up."

Right brain - "I've only slept for a few hours."

Left brain - "It's good training for a long brevet."

Right brain - "I can't train to not sleep!"

Left brain - "Gotta get up."

Right brain - "Oh, man it's early."

 The whole conversation took place in the seconds it took find and disarm the clock. Then I looked out the window. The soft yellow light of the almostbutnotquite full "super moon" gave an ethereal glow to a scattered layer of thin clouds. Night air, slightly cool, drifted in from the window. Wow. Then Right brain and Left brain reached the same conclusion: This would be a good night to start a ride. That ended the debate. I dressed, packed the last few items into the minivan and headed off to start.

One day's journey into night: an account from the 2012 PA Fleche

The 2012 Pennsylvania Fleche took place the weekend of April 14.

Time is a challenge of the Fleche. A Fleche takes 24 hours to ride. You ride it straight through and, with the possible exception of a few stolen moments of closed eye bliss, you ride it without sleep.

T.S. Eliot called April the cruelest month. In Pennsylvania, April lives up to his description. April can bring cold, rain, thunder, lightning, hail or heat. Sometimes, all on the same day. April all too often breaks its promise of showers and flowers. If you are going to ride for 24 hours straight in April, you pack for contingencies. 

Blue Mountain 200k

The first ride of my third year of Randonneuring took place around and over Blue Mountain.

The lamb of March arrived early to replace a worn and toothless lion. Last week's string of unseasonably warm temperatures included a record high 80 degrees on Friday. The Pennsylvania Randonneurs' March 200k brevet was scheduled for Saturday. The weather was scheduled to change.

The Saturday forecast called for cooler temperatures and a good chance of showers in the afternoon. A good day for Randonneuring is not what I once imagined. I used to think of bike riding as something to do while wearing shorts and sunscreen - not wool and rain jackets - but I no longer place those limits on myself. I wore the wool and packed a rain jacket. I would deal with whatever the weather would bring.

On being a Randonneur

As sports go, Randonneuring is a tiny nook in the niche sport of cycling.

How tiny? Consider this:

The Pennsylvania Randonneurs and the New York/New Jersey Randos stage their rides in the heart of the population dense Mid-Atlantic states. New York City has about 8 million people, Long Island has almost 8 million people, approximately 6 million people live in Philadelphia and its surrounding Delaware Valley. Together, that's well over 22 million people - conservatively estimated. A reasonably well attended average brevet in this area draws 20 or so riders.

This has been my second year in the sport. Getting to know some of these "one in a million" folks has been an unexpected bonus.

Stillwater 200k Retour

Sometimes the road is butter. Sometimes it's crispy fried bacon.

The PA Randonneurs' "Stillwater 200k Retour" began on the banks of the Delaware River in the town of Milford, New Jersey. Milford was once a town with a grist mill and a station on the Belvidere Delaware Railroad. Now long gone, the "Bel Del Railroad" ran a regular passenger line from Manunka Chunk to Trenton. Today, Milford is a town of small shops and restaurants that look like they cater to folks recreating on and near the river or living in the rolling exurbs that border the river. The buildings are neat, quaint and picturesque.

This "retour" would reverse the Stillwater route that the group rode in November. I did not ride that brevet. This would be my first time on this course.  After riding two flat 200k rides in the last two months and pushing hard to two personal best times, riding with the Pa Randonneurs would mean a return to hill country. The elevation profile (click link) showed that the two major climbs appear at the end of the route- just when I would likely be at my weakest. My big goal for the day was to  finish the ride without turning it into a sufferfest.

Hawk Mountain 200K brevet -

September 17, 2011

The first hours of the brevet felt timeless - nether morning nor afternoon, neither hot nor cold - a space between moments. Under a covering of mottled gray clouds, we rode through shadowless terrain. The flora, plump from recent torrential rains, could barely contain their color. Yellows, oranges and greens brightly popped against the muted background. This was Summer's last Saturday, but I felt the touch of Fall. Cool air drew excess heat away from laboring muscles, leaving just enough warmth, like a thin flowing shield, to ward off the chill. With the threat of overheating gone, this would be a good day to climb mountains and this brevet would provide just the course.

Hawk's Nest 200k - Through Promised Land.

76 miles into the ride, I got my mojo back. Finally. On a category 5 climb deep in the Poconos, it emerged to lift me just above the discomfort and effort of riding brevets. No longer did that aspect dominate my thoughts. It took a while to get there, but I got there. Now I could just ride. 50 miles to go.

Hawk Mountain 200K

July 24, 2011

My ride of the Hawk Mountain 200k permanent began just after dawn in the small town of Ephrata. Located in the midst of east Pennsylvania farmland, Ephrata was once the home of the Mystic Order of the Solitary, a mid-18th century semi-monastic religious order that incorporated ascetism and creative expression into its practices. That history seemed to make this a fitting place to begin a 128-mile solo Sunday bike ride through the mountains on a mid-summer day that came at the end of a record setting heat wave.