Musing upon the undiscovered roads in my own back yard.

But first, I owe you a report on the outcome of the Paris to Ancaster race from my last post. I apologize to those of you who have been patiently checking back, only to find the same old post that has been staring you in the face since I last posted on April 1st. That was not very fair of me. I just haven't had much to say lately. So how'd it come out, you want to know? Did I once again wrestle my fear of failure to the mat? Well...my finish was a bit of a disappointment, but I set myself up for that with my stellar result in this race from the previous year. This year I finished 198 of 1136 total competitors in the 60K event, 52 of 281 in the male 40-49 group. There was some pretty good talent present. Canadian Olympians; Canadian Regional Champions from several cycling disciplines; even International Pro and former Canadian National Cyclocross, Road, and Time Trial Champion Lyne Bessette! She was only about four rows in front of me at the start line. I was able to keep myself in the front 25 racers overall right up to the half-way point, about 1 hr into the race. Then...I could feel my tire swimming around. Yep. A flat. I was hoping for a quick change and was sure from the feel that it was the rear which was losing air. I came to a stop at the top of a rise and quickly pulled the rear wheel from the drops. Strangely, it still felt hard. At this point, much to my surprise, I realized that it was the front which was flat! I threw the rear wheel back in, pulled the front, and installed a new tube. All the while this was going on a good 150 racers blew by on this fast, long stretch of dirt road where I had been forced to stop. The tire fixed, I unleashed hell. I must have taken back 100 or more places over the next 30-35 minutes. Unfortunately, the extra energy expenditure took it's toll. I was out of gas with what should have been 20 minutes left to race and got sidelined twice by intense cramping muscle spasms in my quads that entirely seized and brought me to a halt for several minutes each episode. These occured on the two main climbs of the race, both at the very end and fairly steep, and I could do nothing but watch those go past whom I had fought so hard to retake following my flat. My finishing time was 2:18:02, and at first does not seem too poor compared to last year's 2:04:39. Just goes to show how much difference 14 minutes can make, not to mention the fact that this year's course was very much drier than last. In the end I did not feel that I had failed myself. I gave it my all to the end, despite my setback. I put up the fight I had come to make. That said I'm thinking that I am on a different trajectory this year. Last season I made my thunder from April through June, then fizzled for the rest of the year. I've got a feeling that with the steady riding I'd done last winter, and my more gradual increase in intensity, I'm going to be at my best a little bit later and hopefully longer as well.

So what about those undiscovered roads? Before I go there I have to first tell you what the original plan was for today's ride. I was going to enter Hollenbeck's Spring Classic Road Race, South of Cortland, NY. I've done this race many times in previous years, and always have enjoyed it. My son's mother was going to go along for the trip and when we went to bed last night, I had set my alarm with every intention of going. When we woke up however, my son was not feeling well, and we were not entirely comfortable with the plans he had made for the day with his friends. Given these, his mother made the decision to remain at home. With sleep still heavy in my eyes, this was all the added discouragement I needed to convince me that returning to bed for a while longer was in my best interest. Hollenbeck's is a good 75 miles from where we live. The course is a 22 mile loop. Last year I raced the 2-lap Cat 3-4 instead of the Masters, mainly because the organizer has the Masters only doing 1 lap; but I just didn't have much fun in that group. It was therefore my intention to race the Masters this year, despite it being only 22 miles. So when I woke up this morning I mainly weighed the value I'd get from spending $15 to enter, $25 on gas, a 150 mile round trip solo, and all to race just 22 miles. It was a beautiful day to boot, so I just couldn't justify it when I could do a nice, 75+ mile ride for free right out of my own front door.

Now, it's interesting how given typical ride milage range from one's home how the training loops get stale rather quickly. Especially since, given that I basically live on the Southern shore of Lake Ontario my options are limited to West, East, or South. This morning's ride started without much of a plan other than to do a relatively high milage ride, and with a lack of enthusiasm regarding the same old routes I've ridden too times before. Within 3 or 4 miles of home however I passed a road I've overlooked many times, but never ventured down. From there the plan just hatched to take all the roads of which I had only a rough idea of where they generally might lead in relation to the solar compass provided by the day's ample sunshine. Amazing! I discovered a wealth of wonderful new routes, literally in my own (regional) back yard; the day's ride turned out to be the most enjoyable solo road ride I'd taken thus far this spring. All tallied I rode 90 miles, and even got in a little drag race with some Amish who challenged me with their horse drawn, black coach. The photo at the top of the post is from today's ride. The view is looking South, towards Plainville. The photo beneath is at one of the older, abandoned Erie Canal locks...Old Lock 51, near Weedsport. With its cut stone walls, and piles of rubble ruin, I could not help but be reminded of the resemblance to the ancient ball court at Chichén Itzá Mexico, albeit on a considerably smaller scale, and the ruins of which I had the opportunity to visit once.

Today's ride also brought to mind an interview I like in a book I own; Bike for Life, by Roy Wallak and Bill Katovsky. The interview is with one of California's bicycle culture personalities, Rich, The Reverend, White. Rich White said in this interview a couple of things that I realized had been my own philosophy about bike rides for many years. I had never fully considered that this was indeed a philosophy; that my ideas about riding might be much of a departure than those which most other's might have, until I discovered somebody else who also had quite similar thinking. Rich White's own words are fine so I'll let him do the talking. He says; "You don't need an exotic place to find a great ride. If you're out there with a friend on any ride, it can be a great ride if you just pay attention to that day, that moment. A lot of people.....are in such a hurry to do other things that a bike ride to them just fits into their schedule. They rush it; they have a time frame; they hurry up and ride and go home. They have no time to notice the ride, because they can't stop and really see what's going on - it's just a workout. They did it, they're done. They didn't feel it, enjoy it. A lot of people.....do loops, these little carved loops. They never go off the loop. They never go somewhere and just ride somewhere - even if it's wrong. They don't ride the dead end roads, down past where they know where they're going. They don't go if they don't know if there is going to be water or food or a Power Bar or a flat repair station waiting for them. They are afraid to be afraid. A lot of people have important things to do. They do the ride between the important things. The important thing for me is to do the ride. I do everything else between the rides."

I admit that I do not always live the philosophy, even though I hold it. It's a difficult balance. Life gets in the way, and sometimes you have to put family, business first. But you also have to make time, make the ride the priority, else all the other things you do to make riding possible are in vain. Take a day, a week, a month, to do every thing else between the rides... and head down that undiscovered road on your next ride. You'll be surprised where it leads.