The results of yesterday’s wet roads were visible at last night’s dinner. Fresh abrasions were in abundance. We were aware of two folks going down in our group, one on a traffic circle and one on a cobblestone street but there were many more in the other groups. One lady in the Toodlers went down hard, broke her hand, embedded her eyeglasses into her forehead and was hospitalized with concussion. She received a standing ovation when she arrived at the evening dinner.
Day Five arrived bright and sunny after last night’s heavy rain. Many glasses of wine were had by all last night and I am afraid much tough talk about riding abilities ensued. As a result of all the talk and alcohol we ended up riding today. I would blame it on testosterone but I don’t think the same reasoning applies to Deborah and she was equally committed to riding. We gave up our seats on the bus and rode to the independent city-state of San Marino. 25 km of rolling hills and then strait up to the hilltop city. We were encouraged to ride when we found out there is an alternate “straight up”. The primary “straight up” is 10 km at 16% grade. The alternate “straight up” is 6 km at 8%, 1 km of flat, and 4 km between 8 and 11%. 8% is like the hill we trained on from the Kilgard Reserve up to Straiton. The difference is that the Kilgard hill is about 1.5 km.; this was 6 km, followed by more.
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Pre Dinner Drinks - where decisions are made. |
Only two other brave souls of the 100+ joined Nola, Glen, Keith, and Phil in the steepest “straight up” group. Deborah and I were the only others in our group to ride and we took the modified “straight up”, everyone else rode the bus.
We started well. The 26 modified hill riders were divided into two groups. Due to yesterday’s getting lost incident, I rode sweep in the second group. As we cruised along at about 25 km, my chain came off. I yelled “chain off” but no one heard me, and the group disappeared over the horizon. I was left to fix the chain and then pedal like hell in the hope of catching up. After two km of complete oxygen debt sprinting, I finally caught the group. I didn’t ride sweep anymore.
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That is the final destination. |
At about the 25 km mark we assembled at the bottom of the hill(s) to San Marino. We received the directions about where to go, what to expect, and where to meet at the top. I asked the leader if it was okay to go ahead of the group. He said yes and off I went. When you are eating three gourmet meals a day, you have to find the calorie burns when you can. Deborah was happy enough to be on the hill.
Just as I began to pull away I noticed I was not alone. Dave from Phoenix was only a few meters behind me. I know it seems incredibly stupid now, but there we were, two white haired 60 year olds, pushing as if they were in a race, completely living in the moment. Dave from Phoenix passed me. I passed him. No words were spoken. This went on for the entire six km. I was proud of myself then, and feel a little foolish now, but the two of us finished the 6 km at least 20 minutes before the others. Unfortunately, we didn't stop there. At the meeting spot, Paulo asked everyone to remain together for the last 3 km of the even steeper stuff. Dave from Phoenix said he knew the way and we were off again. Unfortunately Dave from Phoenix is 60+ and had forgotten the way. Rather than wait for the others we pushed further. We were hopelessly lost. Luckily Dave was not above asking for directions and we finally met our group at the top of San Marino sipping cappuccinos overlooking the valley. Dave from Phoenix and I shared a back slap and a few laughs, all the while never acknowledging that we might have been racing.
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Paulo asking, "Has anyone seen Dave and George?" |
Deborah powered her way up the entire distance without stopping and still found time to take a few pictures along the way. After her experience the day before, she was somewhat sympathetic about my plight but self-inflicted wounds do not usually get much attention.
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Reunited at the top. |
After a very short rest for me, it was time to return home.
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Two of the Stick People Leaders - one stuffing newspaper inside his shirt for warmth until we get to the bottom where the temperature is much warmer. |
The return trip was a blast. We hit 65 km an hour at one point on the straights between the hairpins on the downhill. On the flats we kept it up and drafted along looking like a passing train. We maintained 30 km an hour and went for stretches of 39 to 42. Boring numbers to readers but incredibly exciting for us.
Back home now after 68 km (don’t know where the extra kms came from), completely gutted and so thankful we chose to go. A great experience.
Drinks around the pool tonight and decisions around Day Six - the final ride.
