Great and Awful Gravel Redux and Loving It!

June 19, 2016

Greetings and congratulations!  Congratulations for participating in the latest edition of the Good Life Gravel Gran Fondo or for another accomplishment that you have recently achieved.  I once again participated in this adventure.  It was magnificent and I owe a sincere debt of gratitude to Mr. R Doloto and his accomplices in gritty greatness.

Navigational system?  Check!

Have you ever heard about “the right tool for the job”?  When I lived in Phoenix my neighbor claimed to be handy with painting.  I turned my trailer into a paint booth and put a flesh-colored coat of paint on my motorcycle tank (of course no one made fun of me for riding around with a flesh-colored gas tank for a week before I got ready to add flames).  Then we applied some tape, drew flames on the tape and he cut the shapes out delicately.  But not delicately enough to keep from cutting lines in the new paint.  He was summarily dismissed and I found some skinny and flexy tape that I could use to draw on my sweet flames.  

So, are Shifty and I the right set of tools for the fantastic GLGGF?  You decide.

Here are some things that I experienced at this event:

• I pedaled with alacrity to make it to the SAG station (approximately 35 miles in) before its alleged closing time of 12:30 (my arrival time - 12:22). 
• Along the way I ingested something I purchased at Hy-Vee called Frog Fuel Ultra.  

My mid-ride snacking menu.

It tasted like a mix of urine, spooge, and nectar.  If you are now laughing at me because I know what urine and spooge taste like, please, get off (on) your high horse.  The urine was because I was trying to impress Gwyneth Paltrow to get her to go out with me when I was living on Hollywood Boulevard, and the spooge was just my own and completely by accident.  It was!  So, I think it should be called My Sweet, Sweet, Froggy Spooge.  I merely baked my froggy love in a jersey pocket for a couple hours, chugged, grimaced, and kept on pedaling.  Feeling good!

• I began using my granny gear after about mile 20, with increasing frequency as the ride progressed.  This is also when I started changing words to popular songs to go along with events/turns I experienced on the ride (exciting video presentation to follow!)  Here is my list of songs with variations inspired by GLGGF:

1. 1.     Hello Dolly -> Hello Granny (Gear)
2. 2.     Twist of Cane -> Right on Kane (Ave)
3. 3.     Mercy Seat -> Montague Street (it’s really an Ave, but hey, haven’t you hear of artistic hack’s license?!)
4. 4.     Cum on Feel the Noize -> Take a Left on Noyes

• I took a Coke from the SAG stop to take with me.  A nearby rider queried “Is that good for you?” to the Coke pusher.  His self-assured answer was “yes.”

By the time I had reached SAG haven I had downed all of my (70+24+21 = a lot ozzies of) fluid.

The SAGers (I think it was a gang from the Trek stores and a few of their kids) expediently filled all three of my water containment devices whilst I wobbled about dazedly.  They also provided me with their own private stock of kid-friendly sunblock, which likely saved me from lapsing into the dangerous realm of heat exhaustion.

I bent over to pick up my bike and I pulled a muscle on the lower right side of my back.  Fortunately this affliction didn’t seem to pain me much during my sluggish pedaling on the “down” side of the event.  Maybe if I'd followed through on my plan to do some abdominal exercises instead of drinking beer and eating pizza to prepare for this event I wouldn't have been annoyed by this occurrence.  Sigh.  If only.

• I met a policeman, whom I shall call Nick, who informed me that he is going to enjoy this ride in North Dakota on August 6 (with a reasonable 6 a.m. start time).  He was a lively conversationalist and helped me get my mind off my sore back.  He also rode away from me on his Salsa Vaya once we got to one of the many steep hills on a minimum maintenance road.  Speaking of MMRs, these were the coolest I've experienced - some were practically tunnels of loess.  He even stopped at the top of a rise to make sure I was on my way!  Thanks Nick!  He gave a good review of the local organization we call Project Harmony.
• A guy had wisely decided not to finish.  He appeared from behind a bush, much like the infamous Prowler described by heavy metal troubadours Iron Maiden, fronted at the time by one Paulus Di’Anno.  “Hey!”  he called.  I turned around and he asked me if I was going to try to finish.  When I answered affirmatively, he seemed a bit disappointed.  I think he was going to offer me a ride, since he stated that he’d contacted someone to come and get him.  He clearly recognized my relative weakness, unhealthy pallor, and preternatural slowness.  But, like many self-absorbed, stubborn dick-tators before me, I refused to step down in spite of this vote of no confidence.  Instead, I pedaled ever more slowly onwards. 

It was around this time that I started anticipating the impending finish.  We were about 47 miles in, and I felt that we were within striking distance.  I must admit that during this stretch of bicycling there was a time when I was feeling a bit queasy and, for a few moments, I thought I might even forego a beer at the end of the ride.  Luckily, this was not to be.

• I made it to the finish in a mere 7 hours or so and received a joyous welcome!  Thanks everyone (Rafal, Trek stores owner and ambassadors, and everyone else who made this possible and fun)! 
• On the way back to my car I congratulated two fat bike riders who finished slightly before and after me, respectively.  “Good work Fatties!” I stated, “That was amazing!”  “Heh” one of them stated noncommitedly (which was preferential to being pumelled by him for my ill-conceived and easily misconstrued attempt at camaraderie). 

And now, without further ado, here is my long-winded, as usual, celebratory video montage to commemorate the event.   If you don't have 14 1/2 minutes to spare you might want to skip ahead to my favorite part at about 11:20.

Other things I have recently noted:

• I think that some of these organized rides (e.g., Wear Yellow – at which I received no pancakes) are phasing out riders like me (i.e., slow, old, whiny and too-busy-to-ride-much riders) at least for their high-mileage options.  How dare they!?  I guess they don’t need a cantankerous coot like me collapsing on the side of the road, demanding beer and muscle relaxers and plenty of both.
• This ride started at 9:00.  I think they want us to suffer (and they’re trying to phase me out, as stated above).  

Well, that is all for now from this sore but happy correspondent.  There is plenty of other bicycle-related excitement coming right up, which you probably are already aware of.  If not, I'll be back in a jif or two to elaborately explainorate.  

In the meantime, please enjoy some gravel awfulness and greatness at your next opportunity and send your complaints to someone on a rural route.  Bonjour avec accentes sit vous plais!