the rain, the park and other things (tales from the ride, part 1)
I'm posting a link to the route we rode, so if you want to follow along cartographically, you can. It basically goes from Saint Augustine southwest to the small town of Hastings, then east to Crescent Beach and south to Daytona...and then does the reverse for the way home.
The trip down wasn't too bad. The wind was always a heavy factor out of the east, so the trip from Hastings to Crescent Beach was hard, but not as bad as I expected. Maybe it was because our legs were still fairly fresh. Maybe it was early enough that the wind hadn't built up much steam yet. I don't know. I just know I got to Crescent Beach, and on to the lunch rest stop at a park on A1A, and thought...half way there and feeling great. Going down A1A along the beach was difficult. The wind was more of a hazard to just riding in general and not so much an "in your face" thing. You could see riders ahead of you, all leaning toward the beach. I didn't see any, but I heard tales on both days of horrific wrecks and injuries, almost always involving riders in large groups and the wind,resulting in collisions involving multiple riders. I rode sometimes by myself and sometimes in groups, but rarely in a group of more than 5. The route down makes three trips over bridges over the intracoastal waterway, two of which have metal grating at the crest. This was a little unnerving the first time, but I just got used to just trying to not change direction or speed. Just keep moving.
In Ormond Beach, you make the decision. A left turn takes you down a road through neighborhoods that parallel A1A, and eventually gets you to the hotel which is the first day finish line. A right turn takes you over a huge bridge over the intracoastal waterway, and then another right takes you north through Tamoka State Park. This is where the rain really started. I, as you know if you read the last post, took the right. As I pedaled up the bridge, the rain came down harder, and harder. At the crest of the bridge I was soaked. As I went down the other side of the bridge, I wasn't pedaling. I was holding my back brake and pumping the front, trying to slow down to make the turn north at the base of the bridge. The brakes were wet, but they worked enough to make the corner. Going north, the rain was so bad I could barely see. All of a sudden I felt my feet, as if I had stepped in a puddle and stood there. I looked down and I was pedaling through standing water. If there would have been a pothole, I'd have been thrown. Luck was with me though, if you can call pedaling away from your destination in a driving rainstorm luck.
Eventually the rain stopped, and I could actually enjoy the ride through the park. It was beautiful, with overhanging trees along the road, dripping residual rain on me as I pedaled through. Those bike clothes dry fairly quickly, but my shoes and socks were a different story. Going north, there's a rest stop. That's where you get the patch if you do the century ride. I stopped, got my patch, and looked back to see riders turning onto the road, heading south. I asked the lady handing out the patches, "Which way does the route go from here? I thought we keep going north." She looked at me and shook her head, and explained. The route does indeed go north. Some people pedal this far to get the patch and then go back south, because it's shorter. If you want to go 100 miles though, you continue north.
How bogus is that? If you're going to do the century ride, the patch is nothing more than a memento for the achievement. Without the achievement, it doesn't mean much. Yeah, I suppose you can show it to your friends and brag about what you didn't do, but deep inside, you know it's all hollow.
Anyway, I continued north and picked up the original route, and the last bridge, with grating, over the intracoastal, back to the beach side. This time, there were volunteers on the bridge, warning riders that the grating was slick and there had been several accidents, and they advised you to walk over the grating. It wasn't easy in bike shoes, but I took their advice..and I'm still in one piece. The rest of the trip to Daytona had some rain, but was fairly uneventful. I passed a lot of people here, because most of the folks I saw didn't do the century ride. They were just slower riders, finishing the normal 80 mile trip. This time when I saw the turn to go back and do the century loop, I took the left, toward the finish line. I really just wanted to be done. I got into Daytona, and there were a few volunteers along the way who yelled out, "Almost there! Only four more miles!" I looked at the odometer and it read 98 miles and I thought, "Four more miles my ass. This thing says I only have two." Regardless of the odometer though, the hotel was still four miles away.
Pedaling into the hotel parking lot at the finish line was so emotional, on a few levels. People are along the street, holding their hands out to give you a high five as you ride by, and the fact that you just rode a bike 100 miles hasn't even sunk in yet. Many people with MS are there, thanking you for riding. My friend Rob was there, in his wheelchair. His wife caught up with me as I finished, and gave me a big hug, thanking me for riding. The wife and youngster were there, and the youngster looked at me and said, "I know you're all sweaty and stuff, but I don't care." and gave me a huge hug. The fact that I rode that far hit me after a shower, in the hotel room as I sat watching college football with the youngster, and I looked at him and said, "I actually rode a bike a hundred miles today." He smiled at me, and said, "I know." and gave me another huge hug.
Tomorrow, the trip home...
The trip down wasn't too bad. The wind was always a heavy factor out of the east, so the trip from Hastings to Crescent Beach was hard, but not as bad as I expected. Maybe it was because our legs were still fairly fresh. Maybe it was early enough that the wind hadn't built up much steam yet. I don't know. I just know I got to Crescent Beach, and on to the lunch rest stop at a park on A1A, and thought...half way there and feeling great. Going down A1A along the beach was difficult. The wind was more of a hazard to just riding in general and not so much an "in your face" thing. You could see riders ahead of you, all leaning toward the beach. I didn't see any, but I heard tales on both days of horrific wrecks and injuries, almost always involving riders in large groups and the wind,resulting in collisions involving multiple riders. I rode sometimes by myself and sometimes in groups, but rarely in a group of more than 5. The route down makes three trips over bridges over the intracoastal waterway, two of which have metal grating at the crest. This was a little unnerving the first time, but I just got used to just trying to not change direction or speed. Just keep moving.
In Ormond Beach, you make the decision. A left turn takes you down a road through neighborhoods that parallel A1A, and eventually gets you to the hotel which is the first day finish line. A right turn takes you over a huge bridge over the intracoastal waterway, and then another right takes you north through Tamoka State Park. This is where the rain really started. I, as you know if you read the last post, took the right. As I pedaled up the bridge, the rain came down harder, and harder. At the crest of the bridge I was soaked. As I went down the other side of the bridge, I wasn't pedaling. I was holding my back brake and pumping the front, trying to slow down to make the turn north at the base of the bridge. The brakes were wet, but they worked enough to make the corner. Going north, the rain was so bad I could barely see. All of a sudden I felt my feet, as if I had stepped in a puddle and stood there. I looked down and I was pedaling through standing water. If there would have been a pothole, I'd have been thrown. Luck was with me though, if you can call pedaling away from your destination in a driving rainstorm luck.
Eventually the rain stopped, and I could actually enjoy the ride through the park. It was beautiful, with overhanging trees along the road, dripping residual rain on me as I pedaled through. Those bike clothes dry fairly quickly, but my shoes and socks were a different story. Going north, there's a rest stop. That's where you get the patch if you do the century ride. I stopped, got my patch, and looked back to see riders turning onto the road, heading south. I asked the lady handing out the patches, "Which way does the route go from here? I thought we keep going north." She looked at me and shook her head, and explained. The route does indeed go north. Some people pedal this far to get the patch and then go back south, because it's shorter. If you want to go 100 miles though, you continue north.
How bogus is that? If you're going to do the century ride, the patch is nothing more than a memento for the achievement. Without the achievement, it doesn't mean much. Yeah, I suppose you can show it to your friends and brag about what you didn't do, but deep inside, you know it's all hollow.
Anyway, I continued north and picked up the original route, and the last bridge, with grating, over the intracoastal, back to the beach side. This time, there were volunteers on the bridge, warning riders that the grating was slick and there had been several accidents, and they advised you to walk over the grating. It wasn't easy in bike shoes, but I took their advice..and I'm still in one piece. The rest of the trip to Daytona had some rain, but was fairly uneventful. I passed a lot of people here, because most of the folks I saw didn't do the century ride. They were just slower riders, finishing the normal 80 mile trip. This time when I saw the turn to go back and do the century loop, I took the left, toward the finish line. I really just wanted to be done. I got into Daytona, and there were a few volunteers along the way who yelled out, "Almost there! Only four more miles!" I looked at the odometer and it read 98 miles and I thought, "Four more miles my ass. This thing says I only have two." Regardless of the odometer though, the hotel was still four miles away.
Pedaling into the hotel parking lot at the finish line was so emotional, on a few levels. People are along the street, holding their hands out to give you a high five as you ride by, and the fact that you just rode a bike 100 miles hasn't even sunk in yet. Many people with MS are there, thanking you for riding. My friend Rob was there, in his wheelchair. His wife caught up with me as I finished, and gave me a big hug, thanking me for riding. The wife and youngster were there, and the youngster looked at me and said, "I know you're all sweaty and stuff, but I don't care." and gave me a huge hug. The fact that I rode that far hit me after a shower, in the hotel room as I sat watching college football with the youngster, and I looked at him and said, "I actually rode a bike a hundred miles today." He smiled at me, and said, "I know." and gave me another huge hug.
Tomorrow, the trip home...
Labels: It's all about me
John put this out here at 7:35 AM
1 Comments:
I'm glad that you posted this. It's like being on the ride with you. And I confess that I am a sentimental fool because when I read the part where the wife and the youngster were waiting for you and the youngster said, "I know you're all sweaty and stuff, but I don't care." and gave you a huge hug...made me mist up a lot. I think you've reaped a lot of rewards from this, J.
Thanks for sharing.
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