The Outlaw Report On The MS150 Magical Mystery Tour 2003: A Fair and Balanced View of My First and Second Centuries in Seven Years
By Crash a.k.a. Dave Doty a.k.a Outlaw #3
I think I earned the money for the bike ride this year, and I thank you all again for your generous contributions. It was a pride and a privilege to carry them forward for you. There were over 900 riders in the tour this year, and together we raised $550,000 for MS research and treatment. The money count was actual receipts. There are still pledges to collect so the total will not be final until mid-October.
The tour is based in New Bern, NC about 2.5 hours from here. It consists of two different 75-mile loops out of New Bern: one for Saturday and one for Sunday. For those of us who wanted to ride a century (100 miles) on one or both days, each of the main loops had morning and afternoon optional loops of about 12.5 miles each.
The weather here in Durham looked bad on Friday afternoon, but I drove to New Bern determined to ride anyway (after collecting the money, you have to do the job- right?). I had clouds and drizzle a good part of the way, and it actually rained as I neared New Bern. Fortunately, when I got to Union Point Park (tour central - and where I was camping), there was only light mist. I got my gear set up in time to visit briefly with friends from my bike club, the Carolina Tarwheels, before turning in.
Day One:
I estimate about 200 of us were camped in the park. Another 700 or so stayed in motels or lived locally. By 7:00 AM Saturday there was commotion enough in the campground to wake me up. I hit the breakfast tent for coffee & doughnuts. Some New Bern police helping with running the tour and guarding campground were taking advantage of the breakfast tent too. If you know me, you know I 'd have consider it worth the risk to give them some grief about cops & doughnuts. They allowed as how they'd "keep an eye out for me" on the road. They also allowed that there were more than a few doughnuts in their - ahh - histories?
Ehhhhh - there are probably at least a few in mine.
We 900 were on the road by 9:10. New Bern is on the Intercoastal Waterway and we started (and ended) the first day by crossing over the big bridges on the river. The bridges are the closest thing to a hill on either route. It was cloudy with intermittent mist, not enough to get us wet - it just kept us nice & cool. I spent a good part of the morning riding with some of the Tarwheels enjoying the companionship and the boost they afforded to my riding pace.
I parted ways with them at the first optional loop, and rode that one by myself. That was tiring. By time I got to the lunch stop at the halfway point, I was beginning to feel drained. At lunch I caught up with Sharon Roggenbuck, a Tarwheels friend. She was doing the century option along with another lady. We decided to ride together and take turns riding at the front so that no one would get overly tired.
If you've never met Sharon, you'll be impressed when you have the pleasure. Being the considerate lady that she is, she briefly fretted about not being large enough to provide an adequate slip-stream for a more cumbersomely sized person - like myself. I have no complaints. I felt much better traveling with Sharon after lunch than I did alone before lunch, and that's about the tall & short of that.
The cooperation worked out well and at about seventy-five miles we caught up with two young women, Lisa and Christie. They were friends from Raleigh who were going for their first ever centuries. We became a group of five for a while. Hopefully they appreciated the help and encouragement. It really is a psychological as well as a physical help to have company on those long rides. And, getting to meet great people is a major reason I enjoy doing these tours. Besides, I remember my first century; it is both exhilarating and daunting when you go way beyond your longest, previous ride into uncharted territory.
Additionally, cycling is a great way to get into the rural and natural histories of the locale. You are riding the back roads to avoid fast, heavy traffic. You roll along passed houses, farms, & fields (yeh - I’m an Arlo Guthrie fan). As a cyclist, you might even learn to love (well - maybe not love) the aroma of "organic" fertilizer. It takes me back to memories of my relatives' farms in Greene and Hawkins Counties in East Tennessee. These days, it's the aroma of spring, new life, and the herald of the cycling season.
On this trip we rode passed row after row of soybeans and cotton. A few places farmers were using machinery to mulch dried up, already harvested corn stalks in the fields. You had to be careful of the bits of corn cob they flung over the road and sometimes at you. There were also miles of thick coastal forest with the sounds and signs of the wildlife they sheltered. My favorite sections of that day took us through several miles of open wetland, and then into some dense, dark, deliciously creepy, blackwater swamps. I'm thinking a canoe trip is in order.
After the last rest stop on Saturday we picked up our pace. Lisa and Christie stayed back to finish together. As we ascended the bridges again coming back into New Bern, our third companion dropped back to save her legs (not being accustomed to hills). Apparently, I am not the first person to notice that Sharon has a very effective homing circuit. It seems to activate automatically on proximity to a finish line. I was obliged to goose my pace a bit in response.
A lot of life had happened since my last century. Within that period were five years of inertia and another two years or more getting myself back into some shape. Cruising down the far side of the bridge, I watched my odometer trip over from 99.99 to 100.00. A hundred miles and seven years just got behind me. My first century since '96, it was a moment to savor.
I hung around the finish to applaud Lisa and Christie across. They were tired but triumphant looking. Later that evening I learned that another Tarwheel whose initials are WR, did a century that day at 19.5 mph. Im-pressive! I will consider that a small bit of envy is not necessarily a bad thing I think it's good, as well, not to have all one’s goals behind one, n'est ce pas ?
OK, the tone changes now that I've got that first post-doldrums century accomplished: you'll have to swing with me.
That evening, the MS Society wined and dined us in grand fashion with a huge pasta and chicken something-or-other-I-don't-care-it-was-good banquet. Highlights were the ice cream provided by Ben and Jerry's, and some wonderful lager and ale provided by Carolina Brewery.
During the banquet, I began to feel that curious phenomenon known as "CSS" or “Century Sedation Syndrome”. The condition is not well understood, but many cyclists are subject to this profoundly mellowed condition that may result shortly after riding a century. The effects can last for a few hours up to several days (extreme cases are reported to last years). I reasoned that one or two more of Carolina Brewery's most excellent offerings would counteract the condition. On reflection, this might not have been an example of my clearest thinking. The overall effect, however, was not altogether unpleasant, and I plan further research.
Day Two:
On Sunday the weather cleared and warmed up considerably. The ride started at 8:00 AM and I took off by myself (except for the 900 other riders). Really, I mean there were no cycling buddies around me at the start. Taking turns with several groups of riders, I paced along at a good (for me) clip until I got to the morning century option. At that point I had to decide if I was truly game for the century two days in a row.
I felt pretty good, and the idea of back-to-back centuries has been in the back of my head around ten years now. I said to myself, "If I don't do it today, I may never get a better chance." OK - it might have been a little closer to the front of my head this year.
As it happened, Dave Sakell, a former coworker, had been riding along with me for a few miles and asked if I was going to try it.. I told him I was still trying to decide. He says, "C'mon, Dave, you know you wanna go for it !" He was right. I wanted it. Sure, Dave was encouraging me, but he probably also relished the thought of me in that kind of pain. We cyclists are dualistic bunch.
That's also when I first embarked on the outlaw trail. Shortly into the option, I hooked up with a couple from New Bern, Shannon and Andrew. Like me, they were trying back-to-back centuries for the first time, so we decided to try working together. It was a successful effort lasting from about the twenty mile point all the way to the finish.
Now, since the three of us are, in fact, MS150 outlaws, I should probably be using official outlaw aliases. And since I'm the writer, I get to be the chooser - hot dang!
I'm "Crash". I'll explain later, but I'm sure you're pretty much onto it. Andrew is "Pathfinder", again, to be explained later. Shannon would be the gang-leader; call her "Alpha-female".
Alpha-female's self-chosen alias is associated with her demonstrated ability to stop a cycle-chasing dog dead in its tracks simply by saying "STAY" in her alpha-female, command voice.
It was awesome.
The poor pooch really did stop dead in its tracks apparently without a further doggie thought in its head - just stood there looking sort of dumbfounded (y’know how dogs can do). Indeed, a good-sized, adult, male cyclist who happened to be riding nearby admitted that he had felt a pressing urge to "stay" as well.
It was hot and a little windy after lunch. Having two other riders to share the duties of blocking the wind and for company was a great help. Also, the home-made ice cream served at the lunch stop was inspirational. I wonder if Carolina Brewery could be there next year? (Again, possibly not an example of my clearest thinking).
The only misadventure occurred at about the seventy-five mile point. I was following Pathfinder when I glanced at my queue sheet for just a second to check the distance to the next rest stop. While I was doing so, either he slowed down or I sped up. You get the picture? My front wheel overlapped his back wheel. I was trying to back off but I couldn't get there quite quickly enough. We touched wheels and down I went; hence, my alias.
I got some road-rash on my left leg, banged my left shoulder and elbow. I also felt my helmet smack the pavement pretty good. The good news is that there was only superficial damage to me and my bike. The better news is that my helmet may have saved me from a mild concussion. That would have been a bad day. Fortunately we were not renegades at that time, else the other outlaws might have been forced to leave me. Not really - Shannon’s a PA so she had to make a fuss. I protested that I was OK - but it’s really kinda nice to be fussed over.
After making sure that I and the bike were both in good working order, the three of us got back in the saddle for the last 25 miles.
I promise I won't go far down this path, but speaking of "back in the saddle"....
"Comfortable", as used with regard to a bicycle saddle, is a relative term - at best. On the end of first day of an MS150, the rider's derriere is generally in relatively good shape - even if the rider went the century route. Century notwithstanding, starting about the twenty-fifth mile, the second day of an MS150 is an altogether different story for nine hundred some tushies.
In the English language, there as many synonyms for the human posterior as there are sizes and shapes of the same. On the second day of an MS150, the rider will hear (and likely use) most of them - usually in sentences constructed something like, "My adjective synonym is screaming !" A large number of adjectives can be appropriately substituted before the synonym. As with the synonym itself, some are nicer than others.
We Become Renegades:
There were no more mishaps, but as we approached the last rest stop, within 6 miles of the finish, we were running ahead of an approaching storm. The volunteers at the rest stop asked us to stay until the storm passed, and that was fine with us and our sore behinds. After about ten more minutes, we were informed that they were calling the rest of the ride off, and were going to put the remaining riders & bikes into support (SAG) vehicles and drive us to the finish!
Beelzebub!
The dormant outlaw genes suddenly manifested. The three of us looked at each other thinking the same thought: "No adjective way!"
There is a particular look of iron determination that can come over a woman's face when she really means business (that's why Alpha-female was the leader). It's really impressive and quite intimidating if you find yourself between the lady and her goal- similar to when you find yourself between a mare and her foal.
Well, that look came over Alpha-female's face as she rose to her leader’s role, and gave voice to our common concern, "There's no way in hell I'm going to ride SAG wagon over that finish line when I'm less than 6 miles away from finishing two centuries in as many days!". I admire the way the lady thinks. I also have nothing but admiration for the people who run the MS150s, but considering the average, serious, cyclist’s psyche, this particular plan was, perhaps, not an example of their clearest thinking.
Pathfinder then earned his alias. He had already scouted around the side of the school building where the rest stop was located. At his urging we nonchalantly picked up our bikes, snuck around the corner back of the school building, tippy-toed through the little wooded area, got back on the road, and took off like scalded cats! If this had happened much earlier in the ride, we might have averaged 19.5 too!
SAGs saw us a couple of times and tried to flag us down, but no way ! We just smiled, waved, and kept on peddling. Once Alpha-female responded with "See you, see you, don't wanna be you!" I thought that was a touch of class for an educated, accomplished woman of youthful middle age, don't you think? Ah -but to be a part of that kind of committed determination. It was just fine!
We rolled over the finish together and gave ourselves a high-five and, vowed next year we'd come back as Team Outlaw. We were flushed with the thrill of being the stuff legends are made of.
Can next year be as grand?