Lake Simcoe-Beaverton 300K Ride Reports

Lake Simcoe - Beaverton 300 report

Well, well, well, where to start...

I'm not one for writing up rides mostly because I have my head down and just click through the km's without seeing or doing anything that remarkable, however, due to the fact that we were christening this new route, only three of us turned up , and that the event had some unusual new twists (even for this vet) I feel I must document it somehow.

If you take a normal brevet start, make it 6 AM and move it an hour from where some are conditioned to go you have the makings for an even later start than usual.

After my alarm went off at 4:40 I lay there for a moment, did some post sleep math and figured I should be driving away in about five minutes. Luckily for me I had packed the night before (which is why the alarm was set for the very optimistic time, midnight math) so I grabbed some edibles and hit the road. No police in sight. Set the cruise and made it to the Alliston start with almost ten minutes to spare.

At the start I was greeted by Isabelle and Ken Dobb, and a power outage. Hydro was doing some early morning work so half the town was without power. I hastily got my bike and gear together and thought I was a bit underdressed due to the brisk wind, 10 degree temp and what would turn out to be spotty drizzle throughout the day. It didn't get much warmer but once up to speed I was comfortable enough and the drizzle/mist wasn't enough to wet the roads or me.

As Ken and I prepared to leave at the pretty standard 10 after, a Ford Aerostar came shooting towards us. It was Steve Rheault on a mission. Equally time challenged, Steve had also eluded all the constabulary in three counties to arrive not too late. After amusing us with a unique heart rate monitor trick, Steve was ready and off we went out of a now enlightened Alliston heading north and west.

South of Angus, the first town on route, I parted company with my companions and notched it up to cruising speed. Heading west on Sunnidale Road to Barrie I was reminded why I thought the Lake Simcoe - Holland Marsh 200, ridden last year, should be called the tour of the Broken Pavement. My 28c tires were inflated a little hard for this but no way would I get a pinch flat, just some loosened fillings.

The first control in Orillia was reached after the lovely ride along Shanty Bay and Ridge Road. Shortly after the stop I approached the most feared and dreaded part of the route - the 2.9 km stretch of Rama Road north from highway 12. After habitually getting into the left lane approaching the almost world famous Atherly Arms Hotel, I discovered an Atherly bypass had been built, complete with smooth pavement and a 'generous' (compared to the former road) 12 inch shoulder. The smooth trip up Rama Road led into a 33 km easterly leg to Uphill, named after the only hill on the road. The flat limestone bedrock gave way to granite as I went west toward then south from Uphill. A more hilly road passed south through a forest of huge cedar trees, past a lake and rose to flat fields of almost bare granite.

The first dirt road, though damp, was fine for the first kilometer. What it became after that was hard to describe. Fresh limestone. Jagged, fist sized rocks. Presumably laid down to form a stable base for an improved road, this surface was not only impossible to ride, it was very difficult to walk without twisting an ankle on the shifting and uneven stone. Not knowing the area and not wanting to get off route, I hoisted my bike (coincidentally the same one I use for cyclocross) onto my shoulder and started walking. The was bike bouncing, rattling and deflecting off line too much to push along. Although strangely restful hiking rather than biking, I couldn't help but wonder what the others would do when they reached this 'inconvenience'. If I was wearing road shoes instead of mountain I don't think I would have walked through but rather searched for a way around.

Thankfully the road turned back into a regular dirt road for the remaining 1.5 km to Kirkfield Road then off and on dirt for the next 11 or so km. Through Brechin and south to Beaverton and the well chosen control, Pirates Pizza. The girl serving (and signing) was amazed that her establishment was chosen for a control from the many available in Beaverton. After a welcome sub, that looked too big when it was served but then promptly disappeared regardless, I headed out for the stint along the south end of lake Simcoe to the next control at Keswick.

The final stretch was through my old home turf of the Holland Marsh and on towards Tottenham on fifth line. The wind which had been trying to make up it's mind between west and north all day had of course switched to a north wind, not particularly helpful as the road turned north out of Colgan straight up to Alliston. The thirteen kilometers into the wind was kindly interrupted by a huge hill just before arriving back into Alliston.

As if on cue, the setting sun peeked out from beneath the clouds that had blanketed the ride and the Tim Horton's sign appeared on the parking lot horizon. Ahhhh...

In summary, the route is fairly 'gentle' and very scenic. This edition was somewhat meteorologically challenged but with only 1260 meters of climbing and plenty of services on route it is a nice 300. Once they fix McNamee Road that is.

Beaverton Brevet

This spring's populaires taught me that you can't just hop back on the saddle after 10 weeks of sloth and not expect to pay dearly for it. Therefore, I was rather surprised when the Gentle Start went so well. I didn't want to do any real stops and wanted to keep a nice slow pace so when the mortal/conversational group took a small break at the first control I kept going and rode solo until the Campbellville control where fixed gear ace Taylor was finishing his snack. We finished together; fixed cadence riding along with fixed gear and a new face named Jerry. Since that 200 went quite well and there was a distinct lack of 200km brevets until the end of May, I decided that I would attempt my first 300 and ride the Alliston-Beaverton brevet. With a 300km medal being my cycling goal for this year, this ride allowed me an early attempt at achieving it.

Friday was a hectic scramble. An offsite meeting led to entirely too much walking, part of that retrieving my newly rebuilt rear wheel. The original rim died from the affects of trying to catapult my large derriere from one of Toronto's numerous bike-swallowing potholes while I was trying to squeeze in some riding after work on Wednesday with Michel. It seemed to take forever to get everything ready Friday night. Well after 9:30pm, I finally managed to eat supper, do some last minute things, set my alarm for 4:25am, and get some sleep. 5:01am! I glanced at the clock in horror because I knew that it took over an hour to get to Alliston. I dressed, threw together a breakfast while throwing the bike in the van and @Vmax made it to Tim's by 6:05am. Phew... I was then hoping that the worst 100kms would be the drive up to the start.

Ken and Mark were ready and waiting and soon we were off. Ken and I were of shared philosophies that all we wanted to do was finish while poor Mark was slowly freezing to death at our pedantic pace. After a few route legs, we insisted that Mark go enjoy his ride and off he went doubling his pace while Ken and I plodded on into the wind.

While Ken wasn't having his best ride, it never diminished his sense of humour. There wasn't much to do all day other than ride, talk and eat. The conversation and Ken's sense of humour were interrupted for a while during a certain section of the McNamee Road. I have grown accustomed to having to ignore Road Closed signs on every single ride but this one was different. This road should have been closed! There was a section over a kilometer long that consisted solely of large sharp jagged rocks almost the size of tennis balls framed on both sides by deep moat-like ditches so there was effectively no way around it. Not knowing whether to make my relatively new shoes look even worse for wear and possible sprain an ankle or riding on and shredding the shiny new Contis that I just put on before the Gentle Start, I choose what would hopefully be the fastest way out of it. At 7kph my heartrate actually climbed while I navigated literally rock by rock through this maze while keeping my weight carefully balanced fore and aft. I couldn't risk looking back to see how Ken's forced march was going or I would have been on my helmet. We survived, Ken's sense of humour quickly reestablished itself, and we decided not to bring back any souvenirs for Isabelle. After that little twist, we were ready to finally collect on the steady headwinds and crosswinds we had encountered up to that point. Somehow the wind managed to twist and stay working against us for much of the ride. While we did get some tailwinds, it seemed much more skewed in Mother Nature's favour.

The contrast between the roads was dramatic. Dodging tourist buses and a steady stream of cars along Highway 12 and up Rama road versus quaint narrow vacant strips of asphalt with hundreds of Trilliums dotting the forest floor on each side. Then the two extremes became somewhat combined on this rather narrow two lane road where twice the vehicles coming up behind us had to brake heavily because someone was passing them and there was nowhere for them to go. Ken was more focused on the road than any of the activity in behind so he stayed on the road, completely wrapped up in his own zone, while I bailed for the ditch each time like a panicked puppy. Not long after this I heard the cry of tires from behind again and feared the worst as a pickup truck with a large float trailer struggled for control and then tucked politely in behind us until the oncoming car was safely past us.

As the day wore on, fantasies of a real genuine 30 minute stop at the Tim's Control (238KM) in Keswick entered our heads. My fantasy even included chili. When we finally got there, they were out of chili and I recalled the Murphy Road sign that I had seen near the beginning of the ride. Fueled up with their beef barley sodium soup we pedaled on. This was actually my first time pedaling in the Holland Marsh area and it was very rich in soil, scent and scenery. We started heading across the 5th and soon got a great view of an ultra textured echelon of pink and purple clouds. Something, maybe Jupiter, was blazing through the ribbon of clouds like the landing lights of a plane that was somehow stuck in mid-air. My rare indulgence of caffeine from the last control chez Tim's continued for the full final 60+kms and I was actually raring to go fast while finally sitting comfortably at peace with my normally ignored butt-ugly saddle. Ken wasn't exactly raring to go and wasn't fuelled with the elation of a personal first like I was, so he was now solely focused on just getting the job done. I was thankful for having the opportunity to ride with a vrai ancien whose mind overcame a very unwilling back.

About 12km out, who should drive past but the ride organizers. They were thoughtfully seeing how we were doing. I was surprised to find out it had dropped down to 5C because it certainly didn't feel it. I was even more ready to crank it up. Ken seemed completely reassuring that he would be fine, so I took great relish in the final section. I had ridden very gently all day, not wanting any late day cramps, so I had gobs of gusto for the end. It was my first time riding at night, and after what I considered 2 normal long days worth of riding, it was all beginning to be quite surreal. My steed was definitely ready to get back to its stall, just as I knew I would soon be ready to resume my sleep that had been so rudely interrupted for this particular ride.

Making the final speedy turn into the parking lot I felt a tremendous relief. To me the fact that I could cover 300kms in one day on a bicycle is amazing when I recall being worried about my ability to finish the 50km Heart and Stroke ride less than a year ago.