Tonight I checked out the Wednesday night Overdrive Cycling Club ride. I had looked on their website and seen someone had posted a 5:30 departure from Fairfax Park. So I showed up on time and ready to ride, but there were only two older gentlemen there. I got this erie vibe -- I thought for sure that it was only a matter of minutes befor someone showed up on a recumbent. I wanted to go home. I was scared.
Not that there's anything wrong with old dudes -- I'm no spring chicken myself -- but I just got a troubling sensation in my chamois. It should be noted, though, there is something wrong with recumbents.
Anyway, I digress.
Unbeknownst to me the ride was actually set to leave at 6:00, and after while a couple people showed that I knew and I felt a whole-lot better. We headed out south of town on County F and meandered out to II ("Double Eye"), then to County B, and kind of back and forth over whatever ridge that is right there. For the first three-fourths of the ride, it was your basic Sluggo ride, except squirrelly. No matter, it was still fun. Maybe "squirrelly" isn't the right word. The ride just required a bit more attention to one's fellow riders than I might have expected. Perhaps it was the hills. They tend to bunch people on the way up, and encourage free-wheeling shenanigans on the way down. Who can blame anyone for such tom-foolery?
That last quarter of the ride was balls out. A sweet pace line, during which my crotchety, paceline-loving, groupride-snobby self only had to yell at one person for not pulling through. Seriously. Just pull through, and someone will pull through for you.
I give the ride a solid B. We could've used a little more discipline while cruising, perhaps a bit more rotation at the front, for example, and I could've done without having to yell at a dude for not pulling through. But it was still a heckuva ride. I will do it again. I will say this, though: it lacked a beer swill at the end, and yes, I shaved off some points for that. Though that may have been my own fault, as I hear tell folks sometimes gather at a nearby watering hole after the ride. Next time.
One last note-worthy item was the dude riding the Trek 4300(?) with a clapped out suspension fork, the size sticker still on the seat tube, and full-on nobbies, pulling through time and again during the last balls-out quarter of the ride. What a bad-ass! There are some who call him, "Tim?" I hear. What an inspiration! Come to think of it, this one whom some call, "Tim?" was on the front when the guy I yelled at wouldn't pull through! Awesome!! This one whom there are some that call,"Tim?" is my new hero.
Tim?, here's to you:
