Me, Ullrich, Vijay, Dykes and Hoodie rode 74 demanding miles yesterday. Almost impossible to describe the sensation. But here goes.
Started the journey at 1130 from Yeti's office. This is a great jumping off point into the hill country. Thanks to the Yeti for letting us congregate! The rain had stopped and the roads were nearly dry. Still patches of puddles here and there, but no danger. Wind was starting to wake up as we headed west on Hamilton Pool Road.
It seemed that the wind increased with each pedal stroke. When we turned right onto 962, we were in the teeth of 20-35mph headwinds, with a slight uphill grade over a 10 mile stretch. Rotating turns, we inched north at about 13.5mph. The front was no fun at all. Finding a wheel was priority one. Great work by all on this stretch. As we neared the turn, we breathed a collective sigh of relief. Apparently, this mass exhalation was sensed by Cerberus and his hell hounds. Right at the turn to get onto 305 (out of the header and at the top of the slow climb) a vicious looking pooch (maybe a pit bull, or a rottweiler) pops out of the bushes. Followed by 8 dogs that seemed to spawn like Gremlins. All yapping like hell. At this point, Dykes (who earns the Nickname "Dog Whisperer") unveils a new dog evasion technique. He sprints STRAIGHT at the dog, while summoning a death curdling scream that would make William Wallace beam with pride. The rottweilerpitbull's attitude goes from hell hound to lapdog instantaneously. Miraculous brilliance. Far more effective (and heroic) than the Perkins Maneuver. Note that I was employing said maneuver during this melee....
We turned the corner and harvested some fruit of the northbound labor, cruising over to Shovel Mountain Road. Never been on that stretch before. SURPRISE! About 3 miles of unpaved crushed limestone! Hello Roubaix, meet middle of nowhere Texas. Tailwind made it manageable, but it was pretty much uphill the entire stretch of unpavement. And it was awesome.
Once we hit "pavement" we also got some downhill. Ullrich looked as happy as a little girl.
Ultimately, we got back to 962, and rolled thru to 281. At this point we experienced the gravity of our decision to ride the JC Loop backwards. Crossing 281 to go South during Holiday traffic. UnSMART. UnWISE. UnFUN. Hoofed it to the Exxon at Fitzhugh and 281 without dalliance, fanfare or a smile. Seemed like it was getting windier and colder.
At this point we were 50 miles into the 70+ mile ride, with the climb out of Fitzhugh still leering at us from afar. We girded our loins and carbed up on some very responsible nutrition. Our state of mind was impaired. Todd asks me the nutritive value of the pretzels I am shoveling in my mouth, while he is inhaling some equally damaging nutter butter knockoff. Hoodie provided the picture below to document some of our intake. The doughnuts were VJ's, by the way.
Did I mention it was getting colder? As in, teeth chattering chilling to the core while the wind sucks the last ember of heat from your body cold. Apologies from here forward to VJ. It was too cold to regroup. And since we had a tailwind, the pack was a little less important. Fitzhugh was not bad (thanks tailwind). Bell Springs was Charles Barkley Tirrible. 74 miles. We all made it. Hard day for hardmen.
Started the journey at 1130 from Yeti's office. This is a great jumping off point into the hill country. Thanks to the Yeti for letting us congregate! The rain had stopped and the roads were nearly dry. Still patches of puddles here and there, but no danger. Wind was starting to wake up as we headed west on Hamilton Pool Road.
It seemed that the wind increased with each pedal stroke. When we turned right onto 962, we were in the teeth of 20-35mph headwinds, with a slight uphill grade over a 10 mile stretch. Rotating turns, we inched north at about 13.5mph. The front was no fun at all. Finding a wheel was priority one. Great work by all on this stretch. As we neared the turn, we breathed a collective sigh of relief. Apparently, this mass exhalation was sensed by Cerberus and his hell hounds. Right at the turn to get onto 305 (out of the header and at the top of the slow climb) a vicious looking pooch (maybe a pit bull, or a rottweiler) pops out of the bushes. Followed by 8 dogs that seemed to spawn like Gremlins. All yapping like hell. At this point, Dykes (who earns the Nickname "Dog Whisperer") unveils a new dog evasion technique. He sprints STRAIGHT at the dog, while summoning a death curdling scream that would make William Wallace beam with pride. The rottweilerpitbull's attitude goes from hell hound to lapdog instantaneously. Miraculous brilliance. Far more effective (and heroic) than the Perkins Maneuver. Note that I was employing said maneuver during this melee....
We turned the corner and harvested some fruit of the northbound labor, cruising over to Shovel Mountain Road. Never been on that stretch before. SURPRISE! About 3 miles of unpaved crushed limestone! Hello Roubaix, meet middle of nowhere Texas. Tailwind made it manageable, but it was pretty much uphill the entire stretch of unpavement. And it was awesome.
Once we hit "pavement" we also got some downhill. Ullrich looked as happy as a little girl.
Ultimately, we got back to 962, and rolled thru to 281. At this point we experienced the gravity of our decision to ride the JC Loop backwards. Crossing 281 to go South during Holiday traffic. UnSMART. UnWISE. UnFUN. Hoofed it to the Exxon at Fitzhugh and 281 without dalliance, fanfare or a smile. Seemed like it was getting windier and colder.
At this point we were 50 miles into the 70+ mile ride, with the climb out of Fitzhugh still leering at us from afar. We girded our loins and carbed up on some very responsible nutrition. Our state of mind was impaired. Todd asks me the nutritive value of the pretzels I am shoveling in my mouth, while he is inhaling some equally damaging nutter butter knockoff. Hoodie provided the picture below to document some of our intake. The doughnuts were VJ's, by the way.
Did I mention it was getting colder? As in, teeth chattering chilling to the core while the wind sucks the last ember of heat from your body cold. Apologies from here forward to VJ. It was too cold to regroup. And since we had a tailwind, the pack was a little less important. Fitzhugh was not bad (thanks tailwind). Bell Springs was Charles Barkley Tirrible. 74 miles. We all made it. Hard day for hardmen.
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