Tour de Franklin

Old Georgetown Road

27 April 2014

Y'know that thing that happens when you  try to go to sleep early because you have to get up early, and you can't fall asleep, and then you get all worked up because you can't fall asleep because if you don't sleep then you'll be too tired in the morning, which makes falling asleep even more difficult, and then you keep almost falling asleep and waking up?  I had that last night.

The two alarms I set for 5:15 a.m. went off, and the first thing I thought was, "Fuck."  At least it was a tiny bit light out.

With a new bike rack that, in theory, can hold four, Cheryl was due to arrive at 6:20, at which point Sean and I were to load in.  Cheryl and I had registered well ahead of time.  Sean, having read Jim's blog, decided on Saturday night that he'd try for 40 miles.

It ain't easy being a barista before breakfast, but my first matter of business after dressing myself and feeding the cats was making enough coffee for all three of us.  

It took a little doing to get all three bikes strapped in and steady.  There's no way that thing can hold four bikes, no matter how many hold-downs there are.  Ours were ass-to-elbow up there.

Jim got a big crowd.  After three riders dropped off within the first hour, Dave C was happy to point out that, with this attrition rate, Jim would be down to zero by the end of the ride.

At the bottom of Georgetown Road are two old, well, house-y sorts of things.  It was hard to tell, because both were wearing roof cozies.  "I think that is the roof," Joe offered.

Our first rest stop was near the Main Street Cafe in Kingston.  I made Sean go in to see the place.  He came out with a donut muffin (like, ew?); I came out with rice pudding and more coffee.

It didn't help.  I was no more awake than I was at 5:15.

Those who didn't go into Main Street needed the pit stop on the Griggstown Causeway.  Here's the D&R Canal on the northern side of the road.

The next stop was in the little park on Camp Meeting at the bottom of Hollow Road.  We were at 30 miles.  "How ya feelin'?" I asked Sean.


"Great!" he said.

"Got another 30 in ya?"

He seemed to think he just might.

Hollow marked the beginning of the hilly portion of our ride. From there we went up Grandview.

And that concluded the hilly portion of the ride.  Dave C had asked me why I was on Miss Piggy.  "This ride is flat," he'd said.  Even though I've done this ride twice before, and even though I could easily have looked at past cue sheets, I had in my mind that we'd be climbing a lot more than we did.

Somewhere around 50 miles I realized that my head was asleep while my legs were moving. I was also far hungrier than I had any reason to be.  The last rest stop was at Six Mile Run on Canal Road, only ten miles from the end of the ride. We all stopped and gobbled anyway.

Sean and I rode side by side towards the finish.  "I'm gonna text Dale," I said. "I, Our Lady of Perpetual Headwinds, do solemnly swear, on this day, 27 April, in the year Two Thousand Fourteen, that Sean did complete One Hundred kilometers and is hereafter declared a Bad Ass."

"This is my first metric since a few months before moving to New Jersey," he said.

"Welcome back!"

The Tour de Franklin organizers serve food at the end:  pasta, salad, bread, chips, cookies, and drinks.  Having made enough PB&J sandwiches for all of us for the ride home, I didn't figure I'd eat anything being served.

But the pasta smelled sooooo good.  Sean and Cheryl joined the rest of our gang at one of the half dozen long tables.  I gave in and loaded up.  "So much for the sandwiches," I said.

"You take this as an either-or situation," Sean said. "Me 'n' Cheryl, we're looking at both!"  Cheryl agreed.  "I want my PB&J!"

So Sean and I ate ours on the way home.  Cheryl stashed away what was left, the first of which lasted less than half an hour.

Next year I'll do a few things differently.  First, I'll not bike commute three times in one week before the Spring Fling/Tour de Franklin weekend.  Second, I'll start going to bed earlier mid-week.  And third, I'm bringing Kermit next time.

Kudos to Jim for keeping (most of) us together.  He's a good ride leader, even if he's not ready to commit to it.