There were the big themes of community, being an athlete, and self-propulsion. Those themes like my memories are just flashes. The pieces don't seem to add up to the whole, but the soreness in my legs and the reluctant smile on my face suggest there was so much more. More than the clanging of my fender, the stench of manure, the cornfields framing the road before opening up to blue sky that didn't end. Cyclists were ahead and behind (mostly ahead) as far as I could see and I was pedaling, pedaling, pedaling for 184 miles.
On Friday, Eagle, Dragon, and I (the Whippoorwill of the trip) met up with Hawk at the starting line of Wiggins. The town of 900 was flooded with cyclists unloading cars, registering and getting ready to pedal the plains. Post-introductory haikus, we got off to a leisurely start about an hour after a portion of the masses. We rolled slowly on soaking up the sun and the education and aid spots. I learned three things at the education stops that day: 1. Farmers (represented here) are opposed to proposition 105 because they would like federal standards for GMO labeling and because the inconsistencies across state lines in labeling can be costly. 2. That smell was sweet beets. 3. The job of Captain Corn-elius is a hot one.
We'd travel 34 miles in about 5.5 hours (less than 3 of ride time). The sun was warm which only contributed to the feeling that all of this was just a warm up. We'd arrive in Fort Morgan for the first night's festivities. Those festivities included camping on a high school football field and showering in an increasingly stinky locker room. They also included the arrival of Snake with dinner. Eagle cooked up some fine burritos and we chowed down while the camp emptied to head to town. We'd make our way to town later to catch a few tunes care of the Atomic Drifters. The kids seemed to enjoy the show, or at least their light up whirly-birds. I've never seen so many toys flying through the air. It was more captivating than the car show.
We dodged the sprinklers that others had to battle late Friday night and enjoyed some of Eagle's oatmeal. We were out by 8:15 and behind most of the crowd. Saturday was the Century option day and there were some extra nerves to go around. Hawk was off early. Eagle, Snake, and I tried to give chase, but Snake quickly fell back into his own pace. I hung with Eagle for a bit and we were joined by a powerhouse of a man. I couldn't keep on pace with those two and fell into my own rhythm.
At the aid station in Brush! (the exclamation point is official, but has to be tongue-in-cheek, right?), I spotted Eagle and he headed out still trying to chase down Hawk. I enjoyed the Brush! food and drinks and waited a while to see if I'd spot Snake. We were all a little worried about Dragon because his bike and his fitness have been giving him some trouble, but figured the support in the ride was strong and he could ask for help if he needed it. Snake pulled up soon after and we rode off together. He was riding the century and had a plan. He couldn't dilly dally at aid stations if he was going to finish prior to the 6 PM course closure.
From Brush! I decided I should ride with Snake until my turn off. It was nice to ride with him and chat and have someone to root on. Our pace wasn't quite the same. I couldn't drag him up the hills and as a big guy he wasn't afforded the same drafting advantage I got from following him. Still I tried to help where I could and be supportive. The hills were frequent, the wind was blowing, and the hills kept coming more than I think most of us expected. My fender rattled and clanged on a rough section of road. Snake was lucky he wasn't near by then. Saturday was turning into a pretty tough day. I'd pulled away between aid stations, but then it all started to unravel. My water ran out. My stomach dropped out. I wondered where the next aid station would be. I pulled off and got a bite to eat. That helped me go the next 1.5 miles to the aid station. It got better from there, though still tough.
Snake and I regrouped at the aid station, both looking a little worse for the wear after 56 miles. We headed out again and pretty much stuck together. Fewer words were spoken. More time was spent just pedaling. The plains and the hills rolled by. We neared the 72 mile split and said our farewells. Snake asked if I was tempted to join him on the century. I was, but decided that 74 miles and a Sunday ride would still be plenty for me to handle.
I got to camp, spent a couple hours organizing, resting, and battling a headache before Hawk and Eagle arrived with Dragon. They arrived together as the century loop met up with the course. They all finished together in triumph. Snake would battle his way in alone at 5:41 PM. Right on schedule with his plan of attack. Everyone was exhausted but buoyant. Group decisions seemed harder to come by. Perhaps it was Sterling, but I think it was tired bodies and minds. Eventually Hawk and I ended up in town for an ok meal at Chef Charles BBQ wagon and a Sugar Beets Days that didn't strike our fancy. Sleep could not arrive quickly enough.
Sunday, we seemed to be moving toward an earlier departure. Snake was headed home. Dragon was planning to go with him and then changed his mind. He'd made it this far and he was going to go another 66 miles. It was a gutsy decision. In final preparations, Eagle realized that Dragon's rear wheel was dragging (hence the name) on his brakes. Adjustments and other delays ensued. There were about 5 tents and 20 riders left when we made our departure.
Hawk left us as we departed Sterling. We wouldn't see his powerful pedaling again. I was in no place to tag along. My legs had no go. I pedaled along with Dragon and Eagle and they got to experience the joy of my clanging fender and its annoying ongoing clatter. As if the sound wasn't enough, things with the fender really started to fall apart. I made a couple stops to try to fix things, but ended up pulling pieces off and stashing them for later. I got back up to those two which woke me up a little. I stopped at the aid station in Merino where I was charmed. I don't know if it was the one room metal town hall or the 3/4 size mural of a town that got me, but something was cool about the little town where they make/fix/sell amusement rides for fairs. I'm also partial to Merino because a nice tech (the second actually) made another fix on my fender. This one would hold until the end of the ride. The rattle wasn't all gone, but the danger was. The rattle was reduced enough that I could again be around people without embarrassment.
I left Eagle supporting Dragon a little after Merino feeling ok. After stops it was still taking a while to get back up to speed, but climbing the slightest of hills I finally found a bit of a groove. I chased down a guy, but just as I caught him to draft he tucked in with his slower group. He then chased me down a little while later and I let him draft for a bit. That good drafting karma would come in handy later. The miles to go clicked down below 50. The sidewind was sometimes a tailwind. The road was so smooth that my fender was almost silent. None of this could prevent all the riding I'd done from making its presence felt.
My mind was saying go. I was well fueled and had plenty of fluids, but things just weren't clicking along. Then my luck changed. A group of 3 passed me. They were ahead by 100 meters or more, but most have hit a lull or had trouble getting around some traffic, because with a little burst I was able to catch up and tuck in behind them. The lead guy was carrying the load. He led the group for half an hour or more. The second guy was a chatterbox, but it wasn't always clear who he was talking to. The third was a woman with headphones who seemed content to tuck in and ride in the wake. I joined the fun without asking. There wasn't quite enough road to stagger myself in the side wind, but I was getting enough benefit and motivation to stay with them. After quite a while, they pulled away and I thanked them for the lift. Later, they'd roll by again and I'd latch on again at their invitation. I don't know how many miles ticked away behind that group, but it was a huge help.
With 17 miles to go at a Cargill (meat solutions) aid station, I rested and refueled, but I was ready to be done. I stretched, but didn't linger. I don't remember much from a lot of those miles. My butt hurt too much to sit and my legs were too tired to stand. I remember spying some towers that I hoped were the finish in Wiggins and I remember being passed by a large man. I know it's not a race, but that racing mentality has served me well. I kept the guy in my sights and was quite pleased to pass him before the end.
Now I've come to the finish where I had some pulled pork and waited to cheer Eagle and Dragon across the finish line. I wandered around in pain. I borrowed a cow bell and cheered them in.
All those words, all those miles and what I'm really saying is that it's a special thing to tackle a challenge with others. I might just give it another go next year.
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