Bewdley Glutebuster 200K Ride Reports: September 22, 2002

Tour du Fog, Rain, and Hills
by Cary Weitzman

A beautiful harvest moon hung low in the western sky at 6:00 am as I rode north up Birchmount to the Markham start of the legendary GlutBooster or ButtGluster or whatever the heck it is. Small pockets of fog clung to the low lying areas, but otherwise the sky was clear and the temperatures warm for this time of day and year.

In what is fast becoming a grand Environment Canada tradition, the forecast had been changing constantly for the last 4 days. Right before I left the house it changed from 70% chance of showers and thunderstorms to 60% chance of showers. That was a definite improvement but I was still riding my rain bike, that trusty pile of 20 year old Norco Canada iron that gets me around the city from day to day. Hope it doesn't fall apart.

Arriving first at the Hortons I grab a coffee and bagel, Alan soon showed up and then our American visitors. As 8:00 am nears, so does Brian Armstrong. Mark Hopper and friend also show up for a tandem ride out to Kendal and back. Mark lets us know that they passed Larry on the way and he's running a bit late (undoubtedly aiming for the traditional 8:15 start) so off we go.

200 meters to the east of the Tims the fog starts. Thick fog, impenetrable fog. Everyone is riding cautiously. At one point we stop at an intersection on highway 7 and can't see the stop lights on the other side of the street and have to roll half way out just to see whether the light is green or not.

After just 10K a figure appears up ahead, it's Brian. He's decided that the conditions are unsafe and is heading back. The rest of us persevere. I find that fog is condensing so fast on my glasses that I can actually see better with them off, and I have rotten eyesight. Crossing the busy north/south roads, especially Brock Road is something of a challenge and relies on sound more than sight.

As we start to hit the warm up climbs along Altona the Americans express pleasant surprise. Isn't this Toronto? Toronto's supposed to be flat! We string out a bit up the longish climb and sharp left turn at Greenwood. Ahead of me are Alan and Eric Wasz, I hang back long enough to wave to Pierre and David and call out so they don't miss the turn and then I follow.

Unfortunately this is the last we saw of them on the ride. The fog was thick enough to cause them navigation problems and they went far astray, having, we later found out, a nice, interesting ride, but not the one they'd planned on.

By 10 am the fog was starting to burn off and we had a lovely, moody, misty view from the top of the Kirby Ski Hill, which wasn't in my mind at all the most challenging climb of the day - that distinction went to the endless hill up through Perrytown just before Bewdley. In Kendall we had a quick stop at the convenience store and got our cards signed, and then rolled just down the street to visit the scene of Oliver's now legendary inhalation of day old pizza slices, alas, they're currently closed on Sundays.

30 glute taxing kilometers later we pulled into Bewdley, the sun was shining, the temperature was well above the predicted high and the liquor store was open. Ignoring the temptation of cold beer enjoyed in the shade next to the lake we opted for the local pizza place for subs. Eric reveals that not only was this his first 200, but it's his first attempt at this kind of distance period and he's feeling it. His joy when I produce ibuprofen for him out of my pannier is almost palpable.

While we were relaxing there in the shade Larry arrived making us a party of 4.

The return trip was ridden at a relaxed, sociable pace. The day was lovely, the headwinds light enough to be refreshing but not taxing and the views outstanding. Another relaxed stop at Kendal and we were away. Of course these bucolic conditions couldn't last.

With about 30K left clouds roll in from the northwest and we get a scattering of rain, nothing much and then it was gone. Then, as we rode west along Altona the deluge starts, the winds whip up and the temperature drops dramatically. This continues until we reach the refuge of the Hortons at ten to 7, where, air conditioning or no, it's warmer inside than out and the soup, despite the almost painfully long wait to get it, warm and very welcome.

Altogether an enjoyable day out, except for the soggy feet. I can soooo live without the soggy feet.

Statistics:

1 - Harvest Moon
0 - Feet of visibility
1 - big ass old ski hill
4 - litres of water for only $2 in Kendall!
1000s - Nasty potholes on 7th line just south of Bewdley
1 - beautiful blue lake dotted with dozens of boats
6 - Shiny, chrome encrusted hawgs out in front of the tavern in Bewdley
3 - Roast beef subs
1 - Assorted sub
1 - Coburg police cruiser in high pursuit through Bewdley (either that or he'd just learned that the donuts were fresh at the Hortons in Port Hope)
8 - porta-potties spotted
7 - Praying mantises sitting in the middle of the road.
100s - of emus, ostriches, and alpacas
3 - SUV drivers, who while passing us on clear roads with no oncoming traffic, used their horns to try to convince us that their genitalia were indeed normal sized (we weren't convinced)
1,000,000s - of big, fat, icy raindrops.

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