Sunday, May 8, 2016

#44: May October

Belmar Beach at 16th Street

8 May 2016

Today is one of those non-holiday holidays I choose to ignore, the wind is blowing at 30 mph, and I'm resting my legs.

I wasn't really ready for a century yesterday. This spring's distance riding has been in fits and starts. For those of us not running with the randonneurs, early May seems early for a hundred mile ride. As I scrolled through my routes in search of Belmar, the first one I landed on was from May 8 of last year. Oops. Nothing like a little self-competition.

The forecast was for clouds most of the day,  a slight chance of showers, temperatures in the fifties, and a moderate wind out of the southeast. It reads as less than ideal, but cool temperatures and a return tailwind beat headwinds and heat no matter how many metrics one has under one's belt.

The Belmar century has three starting points so that one can choose one's distance. By Friday I had four takers. One dropped out on Saturday morning. Another one never showed up.

So it was me and Pete on the road at 8:00 a.m. We swung through Mercer County Park before the day's regatta got going. We checked in at the East Picnic Area for any extras who might not have contacted me, and then doubled back towards Etra Park.

Neither one of us knew that the Farmlands Flat was happening, nor that Etra was one of the rest stops. Tom was easy to pick out in the small crowd. 

We watched carbon Colnagos with deep carbon rims come and go. This was the fast wave. Rajesh found me. He's a randonneur now. I sheepishly admitted that this was my first 100-mile ride of the season.

The three of us pushed off, away from the Farmlands route, into a mild headwind. I didn't pay attention to our speed. Tom and Pete were both dressed for early fall, in bright yellow jackets and full leggings. I had short sleeves with bright yellow arm warmers and bare legs. It was 50 degrees but my toes were cold.

Jim doesn't like centuries that aren't supported. I'm the opposite; organized rest stops rarely have what I want to eat, have porta-potty lines, and never have coffee. My Belmar route has three stops, all with working plumbing, an array of food choices, and a selection of caffeinated drinks.

The first stop was a quick one, in Jackson, at almost 34 miles in for the century folks. After that, it was another four miles to the Manasquan reservoir, where I stopped for a few quick pictures. I only had my cell phone, the camera's usual pocket now stuffed with PB&J for later. 



A slight mist began at the reservoir and dissipated when we turned towards the woods on the northern shore. It wasn't even enough to get our glasses wet.

One good thing about less than good weather in the off-season is that there's not much traffic going into Belmar.

And the beach was empty.



We took the tailwind out of town. My toes warmed up.

At mile 60 we saw our shadows. At mile 60.2 we didn't. 

At mile 70 we saw our shadows. At mile 70.2 we didn't.

At mile 85 Tom headed for home.

At mile 93 we saw our shadows again.

At mile 102.5 we were home.


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