Old 600 Ride Report: July 20, 2002
With contributions from Oliver Moore, Jaye Haworth, Lori Matthews, and Larry Strung.
Making Good Time in the Heat
As anyone who has done them will recall, the first 100 kilometres to Bewdley are a quick wake-up call to anyone short of training. Perhaps two-thirds of the way to the first checkpoint, Paul Dicks and myself had moved a hundred yards ahead of the main group. Hill after hill, I'd look back and see them descending the last one as I climbed the next. And then they suddenly weren't there. It being a particularly high point, I assumed they'd stopped for a photo and pressed on. Michael Thomson caught up with PD and me, and we stayed more or less together to Bewdley.
The Bewdley store is a singularly inappopriate venue for cycling fuel, and I finally settled on a Clif bar, V8 juice, water, Pringles and a can of herring in mustard sauce (would have preferred tuna, but they don't come with a spring-top). The three of us were preparing to roll when the others arrived, having apparently had a quick stop in Kendall. My extensive and varied meal caused problems within an hour, and I was spit off the back of the other two like a rotten watermelon seed.
Struggling - secure only in the knowledge that bad phases always pass, eventually - I meandered my way to Stirling, a long stretch between controls and made possible only by the purchase of much iced tea and an incredibly gooey butter tart just before the turn onto Old Wooler Road. (I also filled my bottles in Roseneath, where they have the most remarkable water. It's vaguely saline and has a mineralite tang which tastes gorgeous on a hot day.) I found the other two at the Fish&Chip shop in Stirling. They too had apparently slowed down rather dramatically and had arrived
only 15 minutes before I did. We had a very long and leisurely meal (a large plate of pasta followed by an insipid sundae) and rolled out again almost 90 minutes after arriving. I was extremely surprised that the following group hadn't caught up by then, and could only assume that they'd stopped to eat a bit earlier.
I was feeling a lot more human on the stretch to Peterborough and had decided that, barring complete physical failure, I would push on to Bobcaygeon before eating dinner. Sometime around Hastings, though, the intrepid 3 (as Jaye has so romantically dubbed us) suddenly fractured into the [pick-your-descriptive] 2. Paul was there, just behind us, and then he wasn't. We slowed down quite a bit but never saw him again. I'm still not sure what happened - until I read Jaye's account, I had assumed that he was
swept up by the following group. (Ed.'s note: Paul DNF'ed.)
Michael and I stopped for sandwiches, soup, doughnuts and much coffee at the Tim's in Bobcaygeon. Amazingly, the place was full at 10:45 on a Saturday night. Even more oddly, many of the people were visiting cottagers who, for reasons that I cannot fathom, were choosing to spend the evening of their rustic Canadian experience at the local doughnut shop. But they were a friendly bunch, marvelling at our pluck and wishing us well as we headed out into the night.
It was not long after The Bob that fatigue began to sweep over me in earnest. Having had no chance to front-load sleep the week before the ride (nor even, for that matter, get a full 8 hours each night), I began to lose my grip. Eventually, in Kinmount, I apologised to Michael and said that I simply could not continue. He went on ahead while I lay down on the church lawn and promptly fell asleep. Awakening about 15 minutes later to screams, curses and an ominous shout of 'drop that knife,' I jumped on my bike and got the hell out of there. (Ed.'s note: Michael arrived at the finish in Markham at 11:50 AM.)
Even such a short nap, plus the bonus shot of adrenaline, kept me going until Sebright. (I also interrupted a domestic dispute in Norland with an innocent question for the time, but that's another story). The last 10K into Sebright were very tough, drifting in and out of lucidity, desperately hoping for a spot where I could crash and finding nothing. That gas station on the hill was a most welcome sight, and I collapsed onto the porch. Despite the biting cold, I was out like a light for almost 90 minutes
From there on it was was not too bad, a weak sunrise lifted my spirits and hot food in Orillia helped even more. I was desperate for sausages and eggs, but you make do with what you can. A very kindly lady ate the Tim's in Barrie filled my bottles with ice, and I stopped for ice cream at least three times on Sunday.
With the exception of a lengthy deviation off-course which aggravated me enormously, it was a pretty clear run home from there. But before I was safely back, the bad air finally got to me. Taking a deep breath of smog, I hiccoughed uncontrollably and then, without any warning, suddenly launched the Big Spit all over the car driving beside me. He was stunned and I felt most apologetic, but it seemed the wrong time to make his acquaintanceship. Beetling off down a side street, I left him fuming - no doubt on his way to a hot date or steamy assignation.
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by Oliver Moore
Animal Tales
by Jaye Haworth
Lori, Larry, Rolf, Carey and myself finished at 7:45 p.m. Sunday, after having started at 6:00 (actually 6:15) a.m. Saturday. Alan came in very shortly thereafter. Whew! What a weekend!
After 9 of us started out, it didn't take long until Oliver, Paul and Michael took off. We thought about them a lot throughout the ride - wondering how they would manage without a sleep break, and just exactly whom would be pacing whom. All 3 are incredibly fast. M. Moore is amazing especially considering he rides a fixie, M. Thompson is a whirlwind - I know from spinning classes and Raid Pyrenees accounts, et M. Dicks - while I know he's fast, has been suffering knee trouble and hasn't been out as much as planned this season. The hills were very numerous, and many of them very steep.
There was a highly unusual amount of loose dogs! One (huge german shepard/huskey combo looking thing) almost got Lori's back wheel, and I almost ran over a little white poodle. I was flying down a descent, in a tuck, with my hands in the middle of the bars, and not on the brakes, when it ran out into the road. I was able to swerve enough to avoid it, but it was close! I was going so fast and it was so small, I'm sure it would've been sliced in half, and my bike wouldn't even have noticed. Truly - I do not seek to hurt little animals! A funny little weiner dog chased us too. It came out just behind Larry, so he couldn't see it, but he could hear it's toenails scrabbling on the pavement. It was hilarious to see it charging us.
Lots of the little village gardens had hollyhocks which I absolutely love, but have not been able to grow in my own garden. The ditches are full of prairie lillies (which Lori noticed, close up at night), and we saw lots of beautiful horses, cows and sheep. We were riding by a field of sheep when they were being whistled at to come home - it was really cool to see them stop what they were doing, stand at attention, then turn and all run off towards the same spot. Sadly, a huge dead beaver, amongst the usual and large number of squashed raccoons and skunks.
In Hastings (Sterling, Warkworth, Campbellford - very British influenced - although we did have lunch in Frankford - great milkshakes at the Oasis Family Restaurant, just over the bridge, on the very lovely Trent river) Larry spotted a little covered footbridge, so instead of refilling our bottles and having a rest in the hot Beckers parking lot, we had a nice little break at the bridge. We saw a muskrat swimming in the river, which was neat. It was really pretty and very refreshing. Larry is very good at directing a ride - calling rest stops and knowing how to pace. Rolf, Carey and I, being the novices of the bunch, really appreciated it. I'm learning so much.
Peterborough - not on my list of my favourite towns. With about 15 K to go to our dinner break, in the dark, on a busy road, a white van slowed so the passenger could throw a glass bottle at us. It shattered right in front of the group but luckily no one was hurt. I was relieved when Alan then changed his mind about riding through, and stopped over in Bobcaygen. There was a lot of hostility from the drivers this weekend. Whether we were single file, or doubled up - it didn't seem to matter. Sometimes I find that discouraging.
Coming through Orillia was not at all pleasant. Traffic is fast and heavy. There is no paved shoulder, and in some stretches, that thin extra foot of pavement disappears completely. Plus we had very strong headwinds to contend with. We all took turns though, riding point, so it was endurable. I'd hate to have been slogging through there on my own. We basically had headwinds all the way home. And in some spots, a very strong headwind/crosswind combo. When we stopped briefly in Orillia for cold drinks at Tim's (where else?), we were optimistically predicting a 6:00 finish.
We had a surprising stretch (long too) of gravel just before the Holland Marsh. In some places it was so thick, I was fishtailing. The cars, except for the odd one or two, flew through at their normal breakneck speed, totally oblivious (I'm giving them the benefit of the doubt here) to the flying stones and clouds of dust they raised for us hapless cyclists. I hope the intrepid 3 didn't have to ride this stretch in the dark - that would've been dicey.
About 15 K from the finish, I ran out of water, so Lori pulled off route with me into Stouffville so I could reload. She knows the roads out there very well, so we "time trialed" to catch the others, just before Markham. Pulling out that extra reserve of energy at the end of a 600 K ride was a very surprising and totally awesome feeling for me! Lori is an amazing athlete.
Once again, I'm so very glad to have ridden this brevet. Some truly lovely roads, and the satisfying feeling of getting through all those hills. Thanks to my wonderful and inspiring travelling companions - you're the best! It was great to be reunited with Rolf and Carey, having met them for the first time on the Georgian 400. I hope we all get to ride together again soon! Not too soon, mind you, but soon!
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Enjoying the Group
by Lori Matthews
Just to add to Jaye's account of the 600 km. Coming into Orillia was much better than it was in PBP qualifier 1999, traffic was much better an the narrow shoulder on Rama road was a bit of a help. I think that Orillia is difficult because we are riding through small towns up until that time and it is a bit overwhelming. I also have the ability to tune out the traffic so I probably do not notice as much as others.
Sitting at the Timmy's in Orillia watching the wind brought back evil memories of 1999 when we experienced the heat, humidity and gale force winds into the finish. I fondly remember the spot on the 10 th concession where Peter Leiss and I were trying, desperately to find a cream that would help eleveate the saddle sore experience. The gravel section did help us forget about the headwind.
I would also like to thank my travelling companions for their company and humour. Larry rode with no sleep, arriving from Japan on Friday evening. Rolf and Carey are a wonderful addition to the randonneuring group. Their sense of humour was great, I'm still craving watermelon. Alan's dry wit makes me laugh. Jaye and Larry are wonderful at pointing out some of the more subtle details and scenery en route that I sometimes miss when I've got my head down pushing to get to the next destination.
The winning scene from this weekend was the weiner dog chasing down Jaye and Larry.
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Tired But Happy
by Larry Strung
Well the old 600 proved to be a tough old broad of a ride yet again. I made it through the whole thing though there was a time on Saturday afternoon, when I was wondering why I was doing it! Perhaps considering lack of sleep, jet lag (having just got back from a business trip to Japan on Friday evening), and the Japan time-shift, participating in this event may not have been among my brightest ideas. I was pretty happy to get back to Markham and the finish.
Nine people started the event, three of whom went on ahead of the rest of us to attempt a straight through run. Two of the threesome I'm sure finished, as we have heard from one of them (including a description of throwing up on a passing car - pushing ourselves a wee bit hard are we!), and the second I know of his abilities and am confident that he finished comfortably. The third has not been accounted for....
Our own group of 6 stayed together for the whole ride, and made for good company and conversation. The route is particularly tough, with lots of hills to climb. Having companionship is a great moral booster and incentive to keep on going when everything in your body is telling you to stop. As always, my goal is to make these rides as comfortable as possible - to enjoy the new and interesting surroundings that we pass through in the company of others of similar attitude. Certainly not to push myself hard enough that I would spontaneously throw-up on a passing car!
Give me a week or so to recover, and I'll be good as new and looking forward to our next ride together.
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