Tour de Cure

Total for this ride: 101 miles
Total for this year: 925.2 miles

Good ride today.  Supposedly 400 people signed up to do the century ride at the 2010 Rochester Tour de Cure - a fundraiser for the American Diabetes Association.  Three of those 400 were part of the RIT Tigers TDC team - computer systems administrator Brett, 2nd year undergraduate Eric, and myself (the other members of the RIT team were riding shorter routes).  After getting registered (I scored the very cool bib number 1111) we took off at 7:30 sharp, which made me happy.  I like it when things happen on time.  Eric was gone and out of sight before we even left Mendon Ponds Park where the event was being staged.  Figures... him having 19 year old legs and all.  But Brett and I set what I thought was a pretty good pace as we did an initial loop around the park and started heading west on Rt. 251.

Things were going well until we hit the 10 mile mark, at which point Brett got a flat in his rear tire.  He was behind me when it happened, and he yelled out for me to stop.  I was just far enough away that I probably could have pretended that I didn't hear him and kept going.  I am getting old you know, and my hearing isn't what it used to be.  But I did hear him and I would have felt guilty if I left him stranded on the side of the road, so I stopped.  Maybe he was surprised that I actually did, because he almost ran into me as I waited on the shoulder, and in the process, crashed into the vegitation on the side of the road.  But he got up immediately so I figured he was OK.  He asked if I had a pump.  Normally I would carry one with me, but since I had these fancy bullet-proof "hard case" tires put on the new bike when I bought it, and since I knew a marshall would take me back to the start if something happened and I did get a flat, I decided not to carry one.  This was bad news for Brett, becuase there was absolutely nothing I could do for him.  He had a new tube to replace the flat one, but he didn't have a way to inflate it.  That's not exactly true - he did have a pressurized CO2 cartridge, but for some reason he couldn't use it to blow up the tire.  Anyway, after pulling the tire off and checking to make sure there wasn't something still stuck in there that would pop the replacement, a marshall did roll up and offer some assistance.  Fortunately he did have a pump.  Unfortunately, it was a tiny 6-inch emergency pump which would never get the tire inflated to the pressure Brett would need to finish the ride.  But he started pumping anyway, and as he did, one of our students, Dave, who was working communications at the event, drove up and called in for a better pump.  It eventually showed up and we got the tire inflated, but not after losing about 20 minutes of precious time.  It's not that this was a race, but we had been told that the course would be swept for stragglers at 4:30.  That's what I was worried about - not the hundreds of people who were streaming by as Brett fixed his tire.

Anyway, we eventually got going again and settled into a nice pace.  I only stopped a few times at the tops of some hills to let Brett catch up, since he didn't have low enough gearing on his bike and needed to walk up a few of the steeper slopes.  But when he finally caught up each time, we took off again and made pretty good time.

Much as I wanted to keep the momentum going, I needed to "go" so we made a quick pit stop at the 20-mile rest area, and two more at the 40 and 60 mile marks.  By the way, the food at these rest areas was excellent - not only were there power bars, fruit, and Gatorade at each one, but at the 60 mile mark they actually had bag lunches from Tom Wahl's restaurant.  I had what was advertised to be a BLT but was in fact some wrap thing with chicken in it.  No matter.  It was good.  Too bad there was more than I could eat.

By this time I was pretty wet - it had been misting all day but when we rolled into Avon the mist turned into a definite rain.  The kind that makes splashes on the puddles on the side of the road.  I could feel the water running down my legs and into my shoes, which I knew would be wet for the rest of the day.  So after wolfing down some food at the 60 mile mark Brett and I hit the road again.  The next 20 miles would take us on a loop around Conesus Lake.  The route hugged the shoreline so there were few hills and Brett decided to pick up the pace.  I was still feeling pretty good, but didn't feel like pushing too hard.  After all we still had 40 miles to go.  So Brett eventually got a good half a mile or so ahead of me.  Usually within sight, but still well out of earshot.  If I had any kind of problem, he would never know.  At one point, heading north on the west side of the lake, not too far from the completion of the loop, I noticed that Brett had stopped on the side of the road.  He appeared to be talking to somebody.  I rolled up and saw that he was chatting with Eric, the student who took off at the start of the event several hours earlier.  Not only did Eric have a flat, he had TWO flats.  I expressed my sympathy, and explained there was nothing I could do for him.  That was OK, since a rider ahead of us had stopped and offered to send help once he got to the next rest area.  Since all he could do was wait, Brett and I decided to take off.

We passed the rest area at the 80 mile mark (the same one used as the 60 mile rest stop) and once again Brett started to pull away.  I figured that meant we weren't going to hang together, since there was only another 20 miles to go.  So by about 85 miles he was once again a good half mile ahead.  But then I noticed something in my rear view mirror.  There was a group of five guys hammering in a paceline, coming up on me fast.  "What the heck," I says to myself.  "Let's see if we can hitch a ride."  So I picked up the pace a little and as they passed me I dropped in behind the last guy in the line.  Now if you've never ridden in a paceline, it really is an incredible experience.  With virtually no effort (except for the guy in front) it's possible to absolutely fly, and indeed, these guys were pulling me along at a speed I'd never be able to sustain if I were riding solo.  As I cruised along with the group I noticed we were quickly gaining ground on Brett.  Before long we had caught him, and passed him as if he were standing still.  As I pulled even with him I just turned in his direction and gave him a big Cheshire Cat grin and kept going.  I hung with the paceline for maybe 2-3 miles, but that was all it took.  Now Brett was a half mile behind me, and fading fast.  He must have walked up a few of the steep hills we hit during those last 10 miles, because he eventually disappeared from sight and I didn't see him again until I had reached the finish, had some thing to eat, and was getting ready to head out.  And oh, yeah... the food at the finish was excellent.  I had a Red Osier roast beef sandwich and the Wegman's equivalent of a 7-Up.  Nothing ever tasted so good.

So the final stats on the ride were as follows:

Total distance: 101 miles
Total moving time: 6 hours 44 minutes
Average moving speed: 15 mph - "No WAY!"  "Yes, WAY."  Not only was this the fastest pace I've ever done for a century, it was the fastest pace for ANY ride I've done this year.  Blew me away.
Total elevation gain: 4313 ft - the most climbing I've done for any ride this year.

So all in all, a very good ride.