A great ride…

I headed down to the bike shop before going to help a friend of mine move some stuff and get his house ready to sell. I needed some slicks for the Fargo. I had been riding on the rollers with mountain bike tires and not only was the sound atrocious, but it was also difficult to balance on rollers. I was watching the Matrix while riding on rollers to make time go by last week. It helped but the tires were so loud that I couldn’t hear the movie. I think Matt laughed at me when I told him about my predicament and he gladly sold me some slicks and thinner tubes. I wanted something cheap since it was just for riding the rollers and I went with the Bontrager H2s.

In the course of conversation, Matt mentioned that he and some of the studly guys from the mountain biking team and a few other cyclists were going to go on THIS route the next day. I had previously planned a shorter ride with some other friends, but the mention of a long ride peaked my attention. I really needed to start doing some longer rides. The problem with this route was it would be with real cyclists or maybe I should say racing cyclists. These are the kind of guys that can ride hard for 75 miles climbing hills at break neck paces the whole time. It’s like they never get tired. Me on the other hand, I can ride far as you know, but not so fast. I get tired climbing the hill out of my neighborhood. I feel bad pedaling hard up hills until my legs explode from the insane heat and pressure. I just don’t have that ability to ride full bore for hours or even minutes. I can ride full bore for about 30 seconds and as soon as I start feeling the pain, it seems like a good time to slow it down and enjoy the ride. I’ll admit, I wish I had that endurance and athletic ability, but it’s just not there (yet). I ride out of enjoyment, but I hope the endurance shows up someday. Because of this, I was worried about being left way behind (and getting laughed and pointed at). The other problem was the head cold I was fighting. I had ridden 40 miles on Friday and felt decent while riding but as soon as I got back inside I felt crappy again.

Matt told me to call him if I was going to go. I figured I would wait until morning to see how I was feeling. I felt pretty bad on Saturday night and ended up going to bed around 7:30 or 8:00. I woke up on Sunday a little stuffy but not feeling too bad. I was in.

I went downstairs to clean up my bike and put the slicks on. I like to clean and lube it up before I ride. I try to do this after each ride, but it doesn’t always happen. I am not as meticulous as my friend Shawn, but I try. I have good intentions when I start cleaning, but quickly bore. I get it mostly clean, and make sure the chain is cleaned pretty well. Nobody’s perfect.

I text (is it text or I texted?) Shawn to let him know I was going with Matt and the studly cycling crew on a 75 mile ride and asked him to go. He didn’t have the time. He gave me some pointers on road riding in a group. I had never even ridden with slicks before. Those pointers would be great as long as I could maintain the same speed as them.

I put the slicks on, cleaned and lubed my chain and realized I had 20 minutes to meet up at the bike shop. Crap, I wasn’t even dressed. I threw my clothes on, loaded my trunk bag with my camera, Cliff bars, FRS chews, tools, spare, garage door opener and loaded up with water. I headed out the door in a hurry hoping I wouldn’t miss the ride. I pushed hard to the bike shop, enjoying the smooth ride on the slicks and met up with the group on time.

One of the studly cyclists called Wiggins to his fans was riding a carbon fiber road bike that weighed less than the camera in my trunk bag. I picked it up the other day and was immediately sickened. It was so light it didn’t feel natural. I was in for a ride, that’s for sure.

Heading out of town on Highway 50, it was a bit foggy and muddy. Mud was flying off the tire in front of me and off my own tires on to my face. Being that a lot of semis carrying cows drive on this highway, I wondered how much cow dung was mixed in with the mud that was being flung on to my face and in my mouth. Nice.

It was a great ride to Strong City. I didn’t feel like I was pushing too hard, but we were maintaining 18-20 mph the whole way. I drafted most of the way and that actually does make a huge difference. I was even in the leader position for a few miles as we pedaled into Strong City. We stopped at the gas station for a bathroom break and a few guys needed water and snacks. Twenty-seven miles in and I was feeling great. This wasn’t so bad.

Heading out of Strong City, we got on the “Scenic Byway,” Highway 177 to Council Grove. I was talking the whole way to the guys I was riding with and having a great time. I rode next to Garret, an animal on a bicycle,  coming out of Strong City. We talked about cool biking movies and he mentioned the 24 hour ride he did last year. Twenty-four hour ride. What was I doing?

Hills ahead. We were riding through the Flint Hills and had beautiful vistas all around. Remember what I said about hills earlier? The Adventure Monkey’s legs were beginning to get a little tired. The pack of wild cyclists pulled ahead eating up the hills like hungry fat men at a buffet. I don’t do well at buffets either. I am too small and don’t eat my money’s worth.

They are a nice bunch of guys and slowed to wait for the “Adventure Monkey Guy.” I caught up, but it was just a matter of time before the ribbon like road slowed me down. Hill after hill after hill. Where the heck is Council Grove?

Finally, A downhill that led into the historic town of Council Grove. That downhill was a little like heaven. The guys were waiting for me at the corner and we stopped by the wagon for a shot. As we left that spot some teeny bopper girls wanted a picture with us. As I tried to turn around for the shot, I almost fell as my cleat was still stuck in the pedal. I wonder if that got in the girls’ shot. Sweet, I am so very cool. Here’s my shot:

We stopped at another gas station to fuel our bodies and relax a bit. I wasn’t quite done relaxing when we left again. I don’t think any of the other guys were even breathing hard the whole trip. Someone reminded me that we wouldn’t even be at the first checkpoint for the DK200 yet.

We rode off to the east and out of Council Grove. I rode with one of the slower guys for a few sentences of conversation before he said something about joining the pack and left me behind. I kept trying, but the pack of cyclists became smaller and smaller. The hills hurt more and more. I was still going faster than normal for me and was doing pretty good. As the pack disappeared into the distance I stopped to take a shot of the road ahead, enjoy the scenery and wonder how soft the snowdrift would be to lay in and take a nap. Gotta keep going.

I finally reached Americus Road turned right and started pedaling up more hills and into a weak but annoying headwind. The pack of cyclists was nowhere to be seen. That’s when I had an eye opening thought that saved the ride for me. Up to this point I had been playing catch up. I was getting farther and farther back and my attitude  was becoming desperate. “I am alone again,” I thought and I usually ride alone, so I decided to turn this into a bike ride and enjoy it. Oh, I continued to push myself, but to beat myself, not to try to catch the studly cycling pack anymore. Another life lesson – Find your own pace and enjoy it.

The sign said Americus was ten miles away and I knew Emporia was seven miles past that. As I pedaled south, I was having doubts about riding the DK 200. I was tired, but still able to pedal up hills although a few of them had me topped out at eight mph at the peak. My lower back was getting pretty sore, but manageable. I stopped a couple of times to stretch my back a bit and continued on. I had finished my electrolyte drink and had made Americus a goal to reach and refuel.

I was so happy to finally see the Americus water tower. My Rational Monkey wanted to call home and give up, but my Adventure Monkey kept me going. He doesn’t let me give up. I just don’t like to give up and I am not sure what it would take to make me give up – maybe a broken body part or bike part, but as long as I can keep pedaling, I will pedal.

Americus. Finally. Thank God.

I pulled over to Casey’s store and got some Powerade. As I was walking out of the store, I saw Bobby, one of the studly cyclists on the MTB racing team, coming in. I was dumbfounded. Was he waiting for me? Did the pack wait for me in Americus? They must have waited a long time.

“Where did you come from?” I asked.

“Dude I have been behind you since Council Grove,” he replied. He looked pretty tired and almost like a beaten child. All the sudden my countenance changed and because of Bobby’s misery I felt on top of the world. How gratifying to see someone in worse shape than me.

“But I stopped to take a picture and a couple of times to stretch my back a little,” I said. “I didn’t even know you were back there.”

“Dude my legs blew up on the hill coming out of Council Grove,” he replied disgusted with himself.

“Oh man, if I knew you were behind me, I would have waited for you”

“That’s OK,” Bobby said.

I used the restroom and came back out to find Bobby sitting in the sun consuming some Hammer gel. We discussed nutrition and he let me try a Hammer gel. It has the consistency of baby food but didn’t taste too bad. I am not sure if it was the Hammer gel, the fact that I wasn’t such a loser, or the pleasant conversation Bobby and I had, but the seven miles to Emporia went by very quickly. Bobby became my best friend in the whole world. I could have hugged him. Because of Bobby, I am back in the DK 200 mentally. Thanks Bobby, this post is dedicated to me beating you. I am sure it won’t ever happen again. For one you are a younger, stronger cyclist and for two you don’t want to be on the Adventure Monkey again as the cyclist that made me so happy. Thanks for the boost. I mean this in the nicest way possible. I love you man!

I rode down my street to my house strong and 80.8 miles showed on my bike computer. That’s 81 in my book and that counts the trip to the bike shop. I’ll take all I can get. My Adventure Monkey was fully satisfied.

Feed Your Monkey!

–Eric