I woke up still sitting half way up against a tree, clutching a burger and chocolate milk in my hands. I even still had partially chewed burger in my mouth. Not wanting to waste even a gram of food, I finished my burger and chocolate milk while still sitting my my bivy.
I felt surprisingly good as I got up and packed my gear. The morning was absolutely gorgeous and my riding was feeling good. After a few hours I crested the infamous Brazos Ridge. It was everything it is made out to be.
It really was beautiful out there.
As the sun kept rising I realized that the heat was really going to play a role in my riding for the rest of the race. A heat response pattern was emerging... By nine am I was already about red lined. By noon I was crushed. By two I was barely conscious. By four I was ready to quit the race. This continued on but it got worse every day. Until day 19 where I actually passed out on the bike twice.
I eventually passed Hopewell lake (I think that's what it is called) and I saw the DAY USE ONLY shelter from from Jill Homer's blog. (Mental note, there is a pretty big paved climb for the four miles before this little spot.) I tried to get water from the spigot there but it wasn't working. I almost went to the camp host for some water but it wasn't that far to Cannon Plaza and the Snack Shack that was featured in the movie. Little did I know....
I continued on through the heat of the day. My progress got slower and slower and sssslllooowwwwer and sllllloooooo.... Ok you get the idea. The heat really had me out of sorts and I eventually started walking even the smallest of hills.
I came upon a road that looked a bit more civilized and I realized I was near the Snack Shack!!! Visions of cold drinks and fresh food danced through my head. I saw a sign that pointed up a driveway and up the driveway were a few bikes outfitted for bikepacking. I rode up and was greeted by three riders who were touring their way Northbound.
Unfortunately the Snack Shack was closed but they were letting people get cold water from their hose. I gratefully accepted and downed a few liters on the spot. I didn't have much food left, a few snack packs of crackers I think, but it was only a few more miles to the next town (about 40) and I reasoned that I would be able to make it just fine.
This really illustrates what the tour does to your sense of perspective. I litterally thought to myself, "Well it's about 100 degrees out here. I have been riding for 12 hours without stopping. I have two liters of water and about 200 calories of crackers. Yeah that should get me FORTY more miles. No Problem."
That is just asinine.
I loved every minute of it.
I rode through the next small town, El Rito, with quite some caution. I have read that there are tons of rabid dogs there that have a taste for skinny bikepackers. Fortunately for me I've never been accused of being skinny so I didn't have any problems with the mutts.
The cruise into Abiquiu was actually really nice. The sun had started to go down so I was feeling much better. After a bit I was in the aero bars hammering away down the pavement. I can't remember exactly what the elevation change was but it seemed like quite a bit of descending.
At the edge of town I stopped at a convenience store and reupped some food and such for the stretch to Grants. I chatted it up with a ten year old kid who really wanted to know if I was going to win. Just about that time Kurt and crew were about to the finish. Maybe next time dude, maybe next time.
I cruised on into Abiquiu proper and found the one place that was open, The Abiquiu Inn. The food smelled great but it looked like it was going to take a long time to get food. I decided that I would take the time penalty and sit down for good food. Sometimes warm food does so much to make one feel human.
As I walked into The Inn there was a guy playing banjo on the front porch. PODUNK.
After a good meal, to include a salad and fruit(!), I begrudgingly pushed myself out the door and started up the long climb out of Abiquiu. I went through a scary little town just about five miles outside of Abiquiu. The scariness was only compounded by the increasing darkness and all the barking dogs.
The road got rough and I was still without a light. I was going to keep riding into the dark as much as possible but it was just incredibly hard to stay upright. (These were the roads that Matthew Lee lamented about in the movie when he recanted the story about the rider that was found passed out on the roadway.) I decided to bivy it up near a small stream. You know, discretion is the better part and all that.
Until next time.
No comments:
Post a Comment