Training Camp Re-Cap - Day 3

We had pretty much written off Saturday's ride by Friday evening. All known weather reports called for rain, cold and wind starting early in the morning and spanning most of the day. In our cabin, we considered what to do - some would like a day to do nothing, some considered a group trainer session and then doing nothing and others considered just going home, happy to have survived the initial two days of camp.We woke up Saturday morning and while it was damp outside, it wasn't raining. And it wasn't that cold. Could it be? Were the weather-people ... WRONG?

Phil ran down to check things out while the rest of us considered the options. I had a very light breakfast and awaited news. Lo and behold, the weather had already moved through and we were in the clear until later that evening. The scramble was on - the ride was supposed to leave at 10 and it was about 9:20. I grabbed my fabulous new kit, tried again to see if legwarmers would work with the bandages (they didn't) and started pulling on my super-woman suit.

We were all pretty close to kitted up (is that a verb?) when Jeff walked in with a different plan. This plan involved a different route and leaving an hour later. All he needed for my vote was "an hour later". While the masters guys continued with the 10am start, we enjoyed a cup of coffee and continued to debate our ride attire for the day.

At 11am about 15 riders posted up for the modified ride. The route had us heading out on the highway so we split up into two groups for safety. I tell you, this crew thinks of EVERYTHING. Once we turned onto the highway there was no room for a paceline- wherever you rolled out in the line is where you stayed. Some teammates were feeling the weekend in their legs but we all survived to meet at the local BP where we debated ride plans.

A few (arguably smarter) riders were good with an out-and-back but I wanted to give the longer route a whirl - hey, we're in the mountains, might as well climb a few, right? I was a little worried that I hadn't fueled with my normal breakfast; the last thing I want to do is slow down the guys. Like a true gentleman, Dan quickly offered a spare banana (THANK YOU!) to ease my anxiety. 

And so we were off to the races, so to speak. About half the group decided to roll out on a reverse loop of the Thursday ride. I pulled through the paceline once before someone wiser than me advised that I should just sit in. I was good with that plan - I didn't want to hold anyone back and no one wanted to have to drag me home because I charged too hard in the beginning.

I don't think I've ever just sat on the back of a paceline, there is definitely an art to it. At various times I had a couple of guys sitting on my wheel so it was an important art to learn in order to avoid working too hard to keep up. First, I had to make sure those in the paceline knew I wasn't pulling through. You can tell when someone is on your wheel and it sucks to have to jump to catch the wheel ahead if they don't pull through. I started telling each rider: ok, that's you. Phil, that's you. Go, Tom, that's you. After a couple of turns, they had it down and I was able to surf wheels - I think I actually learned what it really means to "surf wheels". After few more rotations Greg asked "how are we doing, coach?". Smooth like butta'!

Then we went vertical. These tired (and injured!) legs just couldn't push the same power but I guess I held my own, considering. The guys were kind enough to make sure I got up and over before they hammered to the next climb. Despite my vertical suffering, I loved the route and the day was turning out to be (gasp) warm and sunny. At the the top of one climb I rolled up to see a bunch of skinny, pale bike racers peeling out of baselayers- so THAT'S what the guys do on their rides!

At the top of a climb - post peel-out.

Of course, they chose the one place where there were houses and a church (another gasp!) in view. My winter baselayer was soaked with sweat as well so ... when in Rome, right?

Thankfully, pictures weren't taken until everyone was back together again.

We rolled back in with some of the faster guys charging down Dove Hollow and me just hanging on. I think my words were "I believe I bit off more than I can chew". At least those were the words I don't have to censor. Timing couldn't have been better - a few sprinkles started coming down just as we were getting through the minefield, aka Dove Hollow. I am happy that I did the ride and thankful that the guys were all super-awesome-cool, that weather held off and that the route was so much fun

After cleaning up, I had to run into town to get more bandages. Funny, 1/2 hour out of camp and I still only had a couple bars of cell signal and NO data signal. Verizon apparently doesn't do West Virginia. Anyway, I found a drug store and bought enough tegaderm to last at least the next 3 years.

On the drive back I ran into Nate, still pedaling, grinding up the final climb into camp. I slowed to make sure he was good and wondered why he was still out there. I asked him at dinner and it turns out he was finishing up a CENTURY. And was still upright and coherent for dinner. Holy impressive!!!

I'm sorry for those that left camp due to the impending weather - it really turned into great day on the bike. We finished off the day as usual, with our group dinner. This crew is so well-prepared, they make it look easy ... thank you for the hard work and thoughtful preparation. Gwenn and I decided we had earned a Turtle-Martini (or three)  and Jeff caught this pic to memorialize the occasion.

Nothing but smiles!

Training Camp Re-Cap - Day 2

The wake up call would have come too early on Friday except I wasn't sleeping anyway. See, I'm a side-sleeper and the whole left half of me felt like it had been thrown off a bike - probably because that's pretty much what happened. Having depleted Claudette's first aid kit the day before, I was in need of bandages. I got up and started making breakfast - because that's what you do when you're not sure what to do.

Claudette, the saint that she is, came over to check in and proceeded to run over to Philbilly's cabin to obtain the good stuff. No, not drugs - Tegaderm. At that very moment, Tegaderm was all I wanted.

Philbilly wasn't feeling all that great having been a victim of the ice-patch (see prior post) but he generously shared his coveted medical supplies and Claudette once again provided the assist. Feeling better about myself, I proceeded to suit up and make the best of it. What else was I going to do - miss all the fun? I couldn't use leg warmers for the cold temps - the top elastic hit at just the right spot to tear apart my recently refreshed bandages. Against my own hygiene standards, I was forced to wear the previous day's tights, complete with blood spots and gravel-torn holes.

Thank you to Brian, who pointed out that he could see my white underwear (bib shorts) through the holes. This from the same guy who pointed at my swollen hip the prior evening and asked "Is that normal?" and announced to the table "you should let it ooze tonight before putting any bandages on". I really have to meet his wife - she must be an amazing woman.

We rolled down to the base to figure out who was riding where and with whom. There was an "A" ride that included the vicious climb up the backside of the mountain to get back to camp. Some of the more sane in the bunch (relatively speaking) chose to do a loop that excluded the part about trying not to fall off your bike on steep switchbacks. I had the pleasure of sharing the day with JC, Turtle, Jeffrey, Nate, Chris, Tania, Stephanie, Claudette and Gwenn. Chris and JC were riding like they had a mission and I did my best just trying to hang on. We were, in effect, the injured reserve - Chris was nursing his dislocated fingers on Jeff's spare bike (again, who brings an extra bike to camp!?!), which was a touch too small; JC was ok riding but all you had to do was make him laugh if you wanted him to slow down. Luckily for him, we aren't a mean group and wouldn't want to see anyone in pain like that. Oh, and then there's me - despite the bandages, I was bleeding through my shorts just a bit and the advil wore off way too early.
 

thankfully, gwenn has long arms to get all of us in this shot!

It was a fabulous day to be on the bike. The climb up into the National Forest was amazing and the downhills were so much fun. JC was orchestrating some of the action and when we figured it out, we were flying down the mountain with peals of laughter. I believe fun was had by all.

Pretty cool kits, right?

 
Meanwhile, back at the ranch .... the more masochistic of our bunch were fighting their way against gravity to get up that mountain. There were some great rides from all reports but they were overshadowed by Bu-Bu's magic hands. That's all I have to say about that.

Once again we convened for dinner, where Gwenn found a reason to use the phrase "like a chicken on a june bug". I have no idea how she worked that into conversation but she did. I can't really follow that up.

Gwenn is going for the super-model look.

Those of us with championship jerseys had a photo shoot with Chris. Oddly enough, Luis's jersey fit Claudette and Gwenn. I'm not sure what that says but it definitely it says something.

We were laughing the entire time - Chris is a genius for making us look good!

as Claudette said - assume the position! the NUMBER PINNING position - get your mind out of the gutter.

Training Camp Re-cap- Day 1

This weekend I had the pleasure of joining about 40(+/-) illustrious members of the Evolution Cycling Club as we took to the roads of Lost River to play in the mountains for a few days. I had been looking forward to this adventure since I bandited last year's event as a non-member. This year I was thrilled to finally be a legit member.

Thursday morning started early to make an unofficial breakfast at Cristina's - well worth the early wakeup call to begin the day with this crew. The food was great and the company was even better.

We all hopped in our respective cars and rolled caravan-style into Lost River State Park, our home for the next 4 days. I had packed like I was staying in a third world country  - every bit of cycling clothing I could even pretend might be useful, layers ranging from sunny and 70degrees to the arctic and shoes for every occasion. Ok, I only brought 3 pair of shoes but, still, that was like a different pair for each night.

I changed into my cycling gear and high-tailed it down to the base of the camp. It was pretty chilly so I chose my tights and my favorite thermal jacket with appropriate base layering. As we waited for the final group to descend from the cabins, we learned that camp started with a casualty ... on the way down from the cabin, Kent's head-tube broke, throwing him into the woods and rendering the bike useless. Thankfully, he was physically ok and happened to have his spare bike (who brings a spare bike to camp?!? bravo for the foresight!)

The Cabin next to ours - they're actually pretty awesome inside

Assured that he was ok, the rest of us got rolling. Let me state up front that I knew from previous rides that I. HATE. DOVE. HOLLOW.  It sounds all peaceful and stuff but it's pure hell - crappy surface, wheel-eating potholes and random patches of pea-gravel that doesn't announce itself the way a polite, peaceful road would. Anyway, this crew was ready to go and our warm up was hanging on to wheels for dear life through that minefield. A few miles into it, I noticed that I had lost my girls so I sat up to check on everyone. Once I reconnected with them, Luis comes flying by (having checked on Kent before rolling out) so I hopped on his wheel. He's trying to catch the main group and I figured - I'll take that ride. It's cold and we are not going slow - between my eyes tearing up and the shadows, I didn't see the road turn into pebble-gravel as I took a sweeping left turn. Less than 5miles into the camp, I slid out in a pretty grand fashion.

As we bike racers tend to do, I hopped up immediately and took inventory, wasting no time to get back on and pedal. I was hurt but not injured so I intended to use the adrenaline to catch back up with the group. My plan was thwarted when another teammate stood at the top of a small descent, telling me to slow down. I slowly crested the hill to see a melee - a random sheet of ice had taken down several guys, some of whom were still on the ground.

Damage report for day 1 - at least three broken bikes (maybe four?), two dislocated fingers (turns out one was broken), some bruised ribs (again, turns out one was broken), a bunch of bumps and bruises and half my arse left on the pavement. What a start to this weekend!!

After a death-march of a ride in the wind, the next task was to treat the wounded - that would be me. Bike was ok but I had some road rash in places that required assistance. Gwenn went in search of bandages and sent Claudette over with her recently-replenished first aid kit. While we have had the pleasure of riding and/or hanging out a time or two this winter, I'm certain she never thought she'd have to help bandage my arse. Bless you, Claudette - you are super-awesome-cool - and I thought that before you had a look at my bum.

What's the best way to finish off a day like this? A team dinner. The chance to tell stories, eat good food you didn't have to cook and generally enjoy each other's company - happy that we made it through the calamity? or just happy to be there to share the adventure? All of the above if you ask me. The glass of wine Jeff poured for me helped my overall disposition - of that I am certain. 

Of course some of us chose a different way to celebrate our survival. To each their own, right?