Tuesday last: sunny, warm (relatively), dry roads (sort of) and a whole day with nothing to do but pedal (for most of us). Four riders, three sectors to the ride, two major climbs and one pissing and moaning Bud.
Admittidly (spell check), Bud has had a lot of miles this winter all under a 14mph average. Not the same ol'Bud were used to. Still, the only soul to bare his calves on this ride, I sensed Bud was in trouble as we rolled out of T-Town and into the wind. Slithering toward Macungie Mountain Road, Bud did not try to set the pace and never really showed his face to the wind. Sector 1 featured, right out of the gate, Reservoir Hill off of Mountain road east of Bear Creek. A stiff, steady climb, Robbie simply road away from John Ayer (Mountain Top local trail boss and XC pinner) and myself, and Bud mysteriously dropped away. Climbing and climbing, heart rate in the 170's, I was watching John's compact drive low gear thinking how nice it would be to have a 34tooth inner chainring. Several minutes later we crest and spin in little circles waiting for Bud. The digs begin.
We rolled the hills southwest of Macungie out to the Oley Valley, turn north and drop into Dryville (out on the Derby route). On all the rollers Bud was showing kinks in his armour, so we, of course, turned up the heat.
Sector 2 -- the flats. Rolling out west of Kutztown, up through the little annoying climbs in Virginville, Bud was really complaining now. Strange, for the guy who usually meters out the pain. Stopping at Lenhartsville, we grab food and Bud searches for a Monster energy drink. Incredibly, they do not sell them at the little Dutch country store and Bud's heart sinks. He askes how much is left (we'd been out for 2 1/2 hours now). His jaw drops when I tell him it is the 1/2 way mark. Rolling north on Rt 143, I take instructions from Rob to soften him up, and we take a detour off the flat road Bud knows so well and hit a succession of cruel rollers. Dropping back onto 143, Bud is incredulous to the unnecessary detour but gets no sampathy as Rob turns up the wick. Rolling out toward Hawk Mountain, Rob drives the train at 29mph as we struggle to hold on. He repeatedly rides the three of us off his wheel as he chugs into the wind holding that ridiculous average.
Sector 3 -- Hawk Mt. Not too tough a climb, it is relatively gradual and steady until the spike near the top. We hit the base after working really hard to get there, and we are at 60 miles into the ride. As the ascent begins, Rob rides away as the rest of us go through our own tortures. I am feeling good and Rob and I pace up through the middle of the climb. John Ayer turns into "weavy Stevie" and begins the snaking flaming demise before climbing off. Bud is no where to be seen. On the steepest part O labor through the cycle of stand sit shift weave stand sit shift weave... Rob rides out of sight around the corner in the saddle. At the top Rob tells Bud we have to turn around -- we were only just climbing it, and he is shattered.
Descending Hawk is gnarly, full of cinders, and Rob is throwing a roost off his wheel hitting my shins. Through the rollers home, Bud is repeatedly popped off the back, buh he keeps fighting back on. His spirit is intact, getting more pissed, fighting harder. He gets quieter, but he gets tougher. Nearing T-Town, he repeatedly attacks , nailing the coffin shut -- lights out. Just under 5 hours, just over 80 miles, and just one hell of a day.
Epilogue -- Bud is no fool, and he gives back 2X as hard. He said this was his wake-up call -- Robbie did his job. Though he rode well, Bud thinks he got his ass kicked. In reality, it just stoked his fire, and YES, he will be ratcheting up the hurt on all of us very soon. I just relish the few times when we gang up on him and make him hurt, because I know he'll be ready, on River Road in Bucks County, to hand out his own special blend of hurt. He still does not believe that it is all Robbie's scheme, though...
Bud -- round 2 this Friday!