In a long ride through the twilight zone that included a tornado and ruby slippers, we chose to cross over the Potomac for the fair cost of a buck each on the General Jubal A. Early, a hardy watercraft for sure.
Being on my bike while being on a boat. There is something quite weird about that.
We'd gotten a cue sheet for a neat ride from some Potomac Pedalers, but once in Leesburg we missed a turn. It was a fun adventure none-the-less, and a beautiful day to log 113 miles.
There were not too many hills, so the first 101 miles averaged 21 mph. Ouch.
I learned a good cycling-related vocabulary term, though, from one of the guys. We made the mistake of putting the two hammers in the group next to each other, so Cat 1 half-wheeling ensued. If you've ever been at the rear end of a group led by such strong legs, you've felt it, too.
These random surges, well, the team cap'n defined this as Cat 4 speed. In somewhat less comprehensible jargon, another teammate explained it to me: Too fast to go slow, too slow to go fast. It's that speed that gets nothing done for your fitness and just makes you feel like crap after a ride.
"Hey, I'm guilty of that sometimes," I told them. I will be the first to admit I get unintentionally frisky on some rides. Riding with them boys, though, is smooth. It's quick but steady, a sure change from this morning's big team "Espresso ride." (We usually do that route during the winter, but also on holidays.)
The Espresso is always a motley bunch, and at Cat 4 speed, or at least the most erratic pace possible. It's fun as hell because of it, but with sprints and regrouping points it definitely is not good for much more than camaraderie and some fun.
What am I saying, though? Those are the two main reasons I ride. Add in some ego-bashing sprints, and it's a hell of a time on a beautiful long weekend. You never stop learning in this sport, whether it's vocabulary terms or wisdom of how to win a sprint without doing an ounce of work (thanks for the lead-out, Paul!).
As we were having some refreshments after the Espresso ride, Paul says he wants to ride up to Bethesda on the trail. He just rode up from Alexandria to do a 45-mile team ride, and he was one of the motors on yesterday's long haul.
I ask, "Do you actually need more miles?"
It's like eating a hot dog. Nobody needs a hot dog. You just want a hot dog.
Noted.
Sometimes, you just want to ride.
If the ruby slippers, tornado, Gen. Jubal A. Early were not enough, a whole hell of a lot of bikers invaded town this weekend for Rolling Thunder. I strolled down to Constitution in full NCVC kit to check out the scene, but I am pretty sure I caused one myself.
Lycra does not fit in with leather vests (though it seems that handlebar moustaches are a growing trend in the North American pro peloton).
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