One Helluva Ride - indeed!

Last week, a cycling buddy of mine and I rode the 64-mile loop at the One Helluva Ride, put on every year by the Ann Arbor Bicycle Touring Society the second Saturday in July. They have 6 loops for interested riders of varied skills and experience -- two "family fun" rides (15 and 30 miles) and 4 longer ones (39, 64, 75, and 100). In years past, the 75 and 100 mile loops actually went thrugh hell, Michigan. This was not true this year, because of road construction. But that is not relevant for me, as there is no way I presently aspire to ride that far in one day! My buddy and I have grandiosely calling our ride a "metric century." since 64 miles is about 100k. No matter what you call it, though, it's a long way.

We got started a little later than we had initially planned, because we had a hard time getting up early enough to leave our homes by 6:00am. This would have gotten us on the trail by 8:00am, with a reasonable chance for being done by mid-afternoon.

As it was, we pulled out of the Chelsea Fairgrounds on our bicycles at about 8:45 -- heading for a water/snack/port-a-potty stop at mile 13 and lunch at Portage Lake at mile 38. The scenery in this area is enjoyable -- acres of farmland, stands of tree, very few buildings. It's such open country that it's hard to imagine you are not that far from "civilization." It isn't a solitary ride, though. Most of the time there are other cyclists around, and the SAG wagons go by regularly,just in case. (If they aren't in sight, there is a number on your wristband that you can call for help.)

When you are on the trail like this, you have automatic entry into the cycling subculture, at least for the event. It's a surprisingly diverse group of people -- young and old, obviously fit and seemingly not, cycling jersey and spandex shorts or tee shirt and cargo shorts, road bikes or hybrids, recumbent or upright, single or tandem. If you're on a bike, you're one of "us." If we stopped at the side of the road for a few minutes for a drink or just a break from the saddle, riders with always checked on the way by to see if we were okay. When we pulled into a convenience store for a cold drink, we stood with other riders and exchanged "where are you from" information. There were a couple of guys from Dearborn who had ridden to Chelsea, were riding the 100-mile route and then riding home to Dearborn.

"You're crazy!" I said. "Er, I mean, you are great cycling enthusiasts."

One of them replied, "No, we're just crazy." LOL!

This is the longest ride I have ever done in one day. One of the Katy training rides I had done and one of the days on the Katy trail itself were 50 miles each. That seem plenty long at the time and that was 8 months ago. As it happens, I started feeling quite tired about 25 miles into the ride, way too soon to be failing. The surprise for me was that my quads started burning. This was a first for me, and it hurt like all get out. I am so used to relying on my legs being strong. There were some hills that really challenged that assumption for me, and I was incredibly glad to pull into Portage Lake at about 12:45pm for an extended break that involved sitting down in a shaded area. Maybe some potassium (a banana) and other nutrients (turkey sandwich), plus the respite from riding, would alleviate the burn.

Alas, my legs did not recover during the break. As we rode out of the park (up a damn hill!), I told my buddy that I was not at all sure I would be able to ride all the way back to Chelsea. I was pretty sure I could make it to Grass Lake for the next stop (about 10 miles) and would re-evaluate the need to SAG at that point. If I needed to, I would take the truck keys and go back to the fairgrounds in comfort. I really hated to fail finishing the ride, but was not interested in torturing myself, either. On we rode.

When I had to, I walked up the hills. There was a long stretch on a service drive next to I-94 that was a series of hills and no shade (of course not!). I rode halfway up the first, then dismounted and walked up, stopping at the top for a breath and a drink. I actually waved the SAG wagon on. The next hill didn't look all that bad from this vantage point. But I was mistaken and ended up walking up from halfway again. As I cam to the top and saw a third hill ahead, I thought there was just no way I could do three. I coasted down, enjoying the wind and the easy ride, dreading the climb. Then what to my wondering eyes should appear, but the little trident spray painted on the roads the show where we should turn! There it was, just before the road rose again, blessed turn onto flat land. Divine providence? I wouldn't eliminate the possibility.

I made it to Grass Lake okay! Hooray! At this point, we were about 16 miles from the end. My legs felt better and I seemed to remember this part from last year as being less hilly, so I decided to keep going. Still, as the miles stretched out through fields of half-grown corn, there were times when I wished that those irrigation contraptions that look like a long snaky shower for the crops were operating. I so would have gone over for a soak. But it was not to be. Sigh.

I was wrong about the final miles being less hilly. As with the 39-mile loop I rode last year, the final 5 miles were mostly mental for me. I just wasn't going to give up at that point. The iced watermelon at the end was also a prize keeping me going. We rode in together, both of us digging deep for that last little bit of energy. Then we arrived, pulling into the fairgrounds just after 4:30pm. The last trident on the road had "Yay! Good job!" spray painted underneath it. Yay, and then some!

The rest is denouement. Iced watermelon, (nectar of the gods!), shower, fresh clothes, cold drink from a drive-through, and home again, picking up a steak at the Outback curbside take-away. Red meat, wine, ibuprofen, bed. Priceless.

The next day, I was able to walk without wincing. Not too shabby at all.