It’s funny; I can not even remember now whose idea it was for us to all go for a ride over the Memorial Day weekend. There is a part of me that thinks it was my suggestion but I honestly can not remember.
Never the less Erin, Rick, Scott and I planned on meeting at Grandma’s house yesterday May the 23rd, for our group ride. Somehow we chose 20 miles as our target for this ride. As we are all quite busy, none of us put a lot of thought or planning into this ride. Rick did however email us a proposed route. I figured he has spent his adult life navigating helicopters over oceans, around mountains and through dense jungles, then if he proposed this route I had no worries. So Erin and I packed up Friday night and drove to Montgomery in preparation for our ride.
On the drive down to Grandma’s house a constant rain was coming down. Erin had been in contact with Scotty and Ricky through text messaging and Scotty quickly reminded us that “Lance” would not let a little rain stop him. So I accepted the fact we would be riding in the rain, and actually began to look forward to a nice leisurely ride with my wife and brothers. I know my brothers were also looking forward to this too, especially at the opportunity of witnessing Erin going fast on her bike.
Now, before I tell the rest of the story I must regress a moment and tell you about my riding experience. Other than when I was a kid and I was still putting playing cards in the spokes of my bicycle wheels, I have not found a lot of pleasure in riding. My idea of having fun is going on a nice run. However I married a woman that has deep passionate love for cycling and finally convinced me sometime last year to buy a bike so we could enjoy her love of biking together.
So from time to time we go off riding together, and for the most part I enjoy these rides. As I have told Erin many times, you ride yours for exercise I ride my bike for pleasure and the exercise I get is a byproduct of that. When it comes to biking, time and distant have never been a factor for me, it always has been about coasting down the hills. I have taken a few solo rides downtown. During these rides I find pleasure in stopping every mile or so at one of the many local establishments for a cold beer. As you can see when it comes to biking, I am no Lance Armstrong.
Finally we arrive; Rick and Scotty are already there and prepared to go. So I quickly unload our bikes in preparation for our ride. Erin immediately notices her back tire has gone flat during the trip down. After a few minutes of trying to inflate it we realize there is a small hole in the tube near the valve stem. Being that Erin has a bike with high pressure tires that are designed to help her go fast, the only place you can get a new tube is at a bike shop. There are none to be found in Grady so Erin stayed back with Grandma.
Due to the rain we decided to shorten our trip to a 14 mile course, again I trusted the navigational skills of my brother the Black Hawk pilot. So I prepare myself mentally for the 14 mile journey.
Off we went, turning right onto the Meriwether Trail heading toward Pine Level. Within the first half a mile Scotty quickly announces that he will be our wing man and bring up the rear. Rick is setting the pace out front and I am alternating between the middle and the rear with Scotty.
Our pace was faster than I had anticipated; somehow I had envisioned this being like my solo rides, strictly for pleasure with the added benefit of exercise. Nevertheless, I thought, 14 miles I can handle, surely Rick will slow down after the first few miles.
The rain continued to fall so within a few miles we were all soaked and having trouble seeing through our glasses due to the mud and the rain splashing up onto our lenses. Around mile five I realized that this was going to be harder than I thought, but figured “hey you’re nearly half way, just continue to pace yourself and this 14 mile trip will be over in no time.”
By the time we passed Spring Hill Road our riding order had been established. Rick out front navigating; Scotty in the middle prepared to spray anything that got close to us with a container of mace he carries on his bike; and I was bringing up the rear, performing the most important job of yelling “CAR” at the top of my lungs anytime one was approaching us.
As it has been many years since I have traveled what we all use to call the ‘old dirt roads’, I was not always sure where we were or how far until the next road. I did however have my GPS watch on which was tracking our distance, speed and time. Somewhere around mile 8 I begin to have some reservations on the actual length of this trip. I did a quick calculation, 14 miles minus 8 miles left us with 6 miles to go and somehow I felt like we were much further away from Grandmas than that. I tossed this thought aside and figured my worry was due to the fact I couldn’t remember all the different roads and that any moment one would appear and we would turn on it and it would take us directly back to Grandmas. However, I was familiar enough with our location to know that we were for the most part heading Northwest and if I wanted to ever get home we needed to start heading Southeast at some point.
So from my unique vantage point I could see the upcoming roads that would lead us in that direction and would shout out to Rick “ARE WE TURNING?”; He would not respond verbally, he would just thrust his hand and arm forward while pointing North with his finger. Not Southeast toward Grandmas but North, further and further away. This played out more than a few times and I finally came to the realization that our 14 mile trip had turned into something much different. For me it had become a ride of survival, just finish it without having to get off and push was my new mind set.
My thoughts of Rick slowing down at some point had also vanished, with the exception of a few brief moments I was always riding in Scotty and Rick’s tracks. Finally after 11.5 miles we came to Old Long Road and took a brief moment to re-hydrate. I grabbed a bite of a Clif Bar, Rick ate some Lance Beans and I believe Scotty drank some Liquid Goo, and also had a few Lance Beans. I gotta get me some of those things because I am quite sure that is the only reason my brothers were ahead of me. They had these secret Lance Beans and I did not. Now I know what they were doing when I arrived at Grandma’s, conspiring against me and loading up on Lance Beans.
Memories of the many times I drove this road as a teenager started coming back to me and although I could not remember every detail of this road, I could remember one and that detail was hills, long steep hills. After our quick break we headed off again, our riding order was quickly reestablished and my only thought was to make it to Shavers because at that point I could coast all the way home.
Mile 14 quickly passed and from time to time I would hear Scotty ahead of me saying things like “get up the hill fat boy”. No, he was not yelling at Rick who was in front or me who was behind him, but he was having flash backs of his days at Parris Island and was using this to motivate himself up the steep hills. I am quite sure before every hill I would see Rick reach down into a bag, and pull out a few more of those Lance Beans, all the while never offering me a single one.
With the exception of three deer that decided to cross the road in nearly the exact spot Rick was in, the rest of the ride was uneventful and became a test of survival for me. Lucky for the deer, Scotty could not get to his can of mace in time. My legs had turned to jelly and if I had not been wearing my biking shoes which I had clipped to my pedals, I am quite sure my feet would have slipped from the pedals and I would have rolled backwards down the hills. Finally, we came to Curtis Road and I knew where we were, and how long we had ‘til we were home. At this point I knew I was not going to have to get off and push but would finish this ride, what a relief. At last we made it to Shavers and I do not believe I ever enjoyed coasting down Shavers Hill as much as I did on this particular day.
One hour twenty seven minutes, and eighteen and half miles later we all arrive back at Grandmas, soaked to the bone and at various levels of exhaustion. Although I would have thoroughly enjoyed Erin being with us and I am quite sure she would have kept my brothers laughing, I must say it was nice to ride with just my brothers. If my memory serves me correctly, this is the first time we have done something like this together since we were kids riding to Shavers and hoping to pick up enough refundable bottles along the way so we could by a drink when we got there. Hopefully sometime in the near future we can do it again and Andy will be able to join us.
Despite the rain, aching legs, and burning lungs I thoroughly enjoyed this adventure with two of my brothers. I fully believe we will do this again soon and when that time comes I do not believe I will do anything different. I will still trust Ricks navigating skills, and will depend on Scotty to fend off wild animals. Oh, there is one thing I will do different and that is, I will make sure to bring my own “Lance Beans.”
Never the less Erin, Rick, Scott and I planned on meeting at Grandma’s house yesterday May the 23rd, for our group ride. Somehow we chose 20 miles as our target for this ride. As we are all quite busy, none of us put a lot of thought or planning into this ride. Rick did however email us a proposed route. I figured he has spent his adult life navigating helicopters over oceans, around mountains and through dense jungles, then if he proposed this route I had no worries. So Erin and I packed up Friday night and drove to Montgomery in preparation for our ride.
On the drive down to Grandma’s house a constant rain was coming down. Erin had been in contact with Scotty and Ricky through text messaging and Scotty quickly reminded us that “Lance” would not let a little rain stop him. So I accepted the fact we would be riding in the rain, and actually began to look forward to a nice leisurely ride with my wife and brothers. I know my brothers were also looking forward to this too, especially at the opportunity of witnessing Erin going fast on her bike.
Now, before I tell the rest of the story I must regress a moment and tell you about my riding experience. Other than when I was a kid and I was still putting playing cards in the spokes of my bicycle wheels, I have not found a lot of pleasure in riding. My idea of having fun is going on a nice run. However I married a woman that has deep passionate love for cycling and finally convinced me sometime last year to buy a bike so we could enjoy her love of biking together.
So from time to time we go off riding together, and for the most part I enjoy these rides. As I have told Erin many times, you ride yours for exercise I ride my bike for pleasure and the exercise I get is a byproduct of that. When it comes to biking, time and distant have never been a factor for me, it always has been about coasting down the hills. I have taken a few solo rides downtown. During these rides I find pleasure in stopping every mile or so at one of the many local establishments for a cold beer. As you can see when it comes to biking, I am no Lance Armstrong.
Finally we arrive; Rick and Scotty are already there and prepared to go. So I quickly unload our bikes in preparation for our ride. Erin immediately notices her back tire has gone flat during the trip down. After a few minutes of trying to inflate it we realize there is a small hole in the tube near the valve stem. Being that Erin has a bike with high pressure tires that are designed to help her go fast, the only place you can get a new tube is at a bike shop. There are none to be found in Grady so Erin stayed back with Grandma.
Due to the rain we decided to shorten our trip to a 14 mile course, again I trusted the navigational skills of my brother the Black Hawk pilot. So I prepare myself mentally for the 14 mile journey.
Off we went, turning right onto the Meriwether Trail heading toward Pine Level. Within the first half a mile Scotty quickly announces that he will be our wing man and bring up the rear. Rick is setting the pace out front and I am alternating between the middle and the rear with Scotty.
Our pace was faster than I had anticipated; somehow I had envisioned this being like my solo rides, strictly for pleasure with the added benefit of exercise. Nevertheless, I thought, 14 miles I can handle, surely Rick will slow down after the first few miles.
The rain continued to fall so within a few miles we were all soaked and having trouble seeing through our glasses due to the mud and the rain splashing up onto our lenses. Around mile five I realized that this was going to be harder than I thought, but figured “hey you’re nearly half way, just continue to pace yourself and this 14 mile trip will be over in no time.”
By the time we passed Spring Hill Road our riding order had been established. Rick out front navigating; Scotty in the middle prepared to spray anything that got close to us with a container of mace he carries on his bike; and I was bringing up the rear, performing the most important job of yelling “CAR” at the top of my lungs anytime one was approaching us.
As it has been many years since I have traveled what we all use to call the ‘old dirt roads’, I was not always sure where we were or how far until the next road. I did however have my GPS watch on which was tracking our distance, speed and time. Somewhere around mile 8 I begin to have some reservations on the actual length of this trip. I did a quick calculation, 14 miles minus 8 miles left us with 6 miles to go and somehow I felt like we were much further away from Grandmas than that. I tossed this thought aside and figured my worry was due to the fact I couldn’t remember all the different roads and that any moment one would appear and we would turn on it and it would take us directly back to Grandmas. However, I was familiar enough with our location to know that we were for the most part heading Northwest and if I wanted to ever get home we needed to start heading Southeast at some point.
So from my unique vantage point I could see the upcoming roads that would lead us in that direction and would shout out to Rick “ARE WE TURNING?”; He would not respond verbally, he would just thrust his hand and arm forward while pointing North with his finger. Not Southeast toward Grandmas but North, further and further away. This played out more than a few times and I finally came to the realization that our 14 mile trip had turned into something much different. For me it had become a ride of survival, just finish it without having to get off and push was my new mind set.
My thoughts of Rick slowing down at some point had also vanished, with the exception of a few brief moments I was always riding in Scotty and Rick’s tracks. Finally after 11.5 miles we came to Old Long Road and took a brief moment to re-hydrate. I grabbed a bite of a Clif Bar, Rick ate some Lance Beans and I believe Scotty drank some Liquid Goo, and also had a few Lance Beans. I gotta get me some of those things because I am quite sure that is the only reason my brothers were ahead of me. They had these secret Lance Beans and I did not. Now I know what they were doing when I arrived at Grandma’s, conspiring against me and loading up on Lance Beans.
Memories of the many times I drove this road as a teenager started coming back to me and although I could not remember every detail of this road, I could remember one and that detail was hills, long steep hills. After our quick break we headed off again, our riding order was quickly reestablished and my only thought was to make it to Shavers because at that point I could coast all the way home.
Mile 14 quickly passed and from time to time I would hear Scotty ahead of me saying things like “get up the hill fat boy”. No, he was not yelling at Rick who was in front or me who was behind him, but he was having flash backs of his days at Parris Island and was using this to motivate himself up the steep hills. I am quite sure before every hill I would see Rick reach down into a bag, and pull out a few more of those Lance Beans, all the while never offering me a single one.
With the exception of three deer that decided to cross the road in nearly the exact spot Rick was in, the rest of the ride was uneventful and became a test of survival for me. Lucky for the deer, Scotty could not get to his can of mace in time. My legs had turned to jelly and if I had not been wearing my biking shoes which I had clipped to my pedals, I am quite sure my feet would have slipped from the pedals and I would have rolled backwards down the hills. Finally, we came to Curtis Road and I knew where we were, and how long we had ‘til we were home. At this point I knew I was not going to have to get off and push but would finish this ride, what a relief. At last we made it to Shavers and I do not believe I ever enjoyed coasting down Shavers Hill as much as I did on this particular day.
One hour twenty seven minutes, and eighteen and half miles later we all arrive back at Grandmas, soaked to the bone and at various levels of exhaustion. Although I would have thoroughly enjoyed Erin being with us and I am quite sure she would have kept my brothers laughing, I must say it was nice to ride with just my brothers. If my memory serves me correctly, this is the first time we have done something like this together since we were kids riding to Shavers and hoping to pick up enough refundable bottles along the way so we could by a drink when we got there. Hopefully sometime in the near future we can do it again and Andy will be able to join us.
Despite the rain, aching legs, and burning lungs I thoroughly enjoyed this adventure with two of my brothers. I fully believe we will do this again soon and when that time comes I do not believe I will do anything different. I will still trust Ricks navigating skills, and will depend on Scotty to fend off wild animals. Oh, there is one thing I will do different and that is, I will make sure to bring my own “Lance Beans.”
Posted by Tommy
