Ride report - CCR 200K evening brevet 6/6

[Stuart LeBlanc]

Stuart Gets Tired

(headline courtesy of Erin)

In the time since my last brevet (otherwise known as the Lost Year), the
bike has generally been put to use for the procurement and enjoyment of
brewed products. Mostly Trappist ales from the great country of Belgium.
Made by Cistercian monks, a lot of contemplation goes into these these fine
beverages. So much so, that after a few, I cannot help but be reminded of
the bike's higher purpose: to provide hours and hours of suffering alongside
my dear comrades.

Winter turned, spring brevets were passing, and in April I put on the bike
shorts for a grueling 5K around City Park. Success! Greatness within reach,
the June 200K would be my return to form. On game day I was well rested. The
usual bedlam of my neighborhood settles down around sunrise, so the 2:00PM
start time allowed for a full morning's sleep. Arrived at Horchoff Hilton,
with warm greetings from Captain Pat. First Officer Steve canceled, probably
having had a dark premonition (more on this later), but in his stead we had
a substitute Steve visiting from Alabama, riding a gorgeous sky blue
randonneur/porteur from Boulder Bicycles. Rounding out the group was Erin,
rarin' to go on her new Bacchetta.

We shoved off and headed toward the city. My first time riding the levee
path in New Orleans, after the construction going on over the past couple
years. Turned around at Audubon Park and started upriver to LaPlace. Earlier
that morning Dennis and Alison had departed from Ponchatoula, riding our
route in reverse. We met them at the trailhead in River Ridge. Glad to see
that Dennis is still holding down #1 spot as club fashion plate!

Now we took off six strong. After a break at the rest stop in St. Rose,
Steve and Alison broke away. My legs were feeling pretty good so I decided
to see if I could hang. Yes, but only by riding third wheel (thanks y'all)!
Alison is obviously ready for the 50 hour group at PBP. We stopped at the
Spillway. Dennis and Erin arrived... Pat however was still enjoying the
affect of all that Caribbean fun, and had turned around. Five of us now.

Got to the control in LaPlace and refueled. Now the long and lonesome
stretch on Old 51 to Ponchatoula. We started going with a good paceline.
After some vexing mechanicals earlier that day though, Dennis and Alison
were motivated to wrap it up. They turned on the afterburners and quickly
became a dot on the horizon. Three of us now!

K's passed uneventfully, and we managed to sidestep the storm visible to the
west. I could feel my legs fading a bit, especially after the epic Manchac
bridge climb (which featured epic head and cross winds). Somehow I failed to
notice Middendorf's as we passed, which seems impossible given my addiction
to fried seafood. Near the onramp to the I-55 section were a few monster
truck tires obstructing the shoulder. That's not good, I thought. At that
point though I was starting to get more concerned about a DNF from plain
bonking.

Erin led the way into town, and we arrived at the control just before
twilight. Sustenance! We ate, got our nightriding gear ready and headed out
for the return trip. Fortified with a spicy Italian and the syrupy goodness
of my sweet tea/lemonade beverage, I was feeling optimistic about finishing
this ride. Erin and Steve were pushing it though, so after my bit of whining
we settled on a moderate pace.

Erin led us through the I-55 again, zipping along with Steve on her wheel. I
was lagging, and absently staring at the dim spot illuminated just ahead of
me, headlamp being set on low.

In an instant, those monster truck tires reappeaed, and demanded my
attention! Reflexes took over. I was able to avoid them by swerving off the
shoulder into the gravel, but grabbed way too much front brake. Circus time!
I flipped over hard, landing on my shoulder, and just to make sure I also
received sufficient insult, the bike landed hard on top of me. Ouch.

I stood up and assessed the situation. All teeth still in place. Right quad
banged and bruised, but no bleeding. Right collarbone was poking kind of
funny at the clavicle joint, but not broken and a little massage seemed to
get it settled down. Bike still in one piece... ok we're good to go! God I
love randonneuring!

I chased down Erin and Steve. They had stopped to make some adjustment to
something. "Well that was fun," I observed as I rolled up. Sensing my irony,
Erin thought I was talking about the I-55 section. After I described the
mishap, Erin was momentarily in disbelief. "You know what an endover
actually is, right?" Yep. As we were readying to roll again, I realized both
my water bottles were missing. Back to the tires! The bottles were right
there. I also realized the two bananas in my pocket had exploded. Thank
goodness for the ziploc protecting my brevet card.

Three hours to go, and my attention transferred from legs to my throbbing
shoulder. Any change in hand position had to be slowly negotiated to avoid
stabbing pains. We arrived at the LaPlace control. The clerk initialed our
cards but refused to put the time. Whatever. Erin offered a couple Advils
which helped a lot. Out of the control, down to river road. The moon started
rising from the horizon as we crossed the spillway, a gorgeous red. Erin
wanted to get a picture of it but insisted on riding a little further so we
could get closer. Stopped in Kenner for a phone call to wake up Pat. Back at
the Horchoff Hilton for an eleven hour ride. Success!

All things considered, a great experience. Met a few new faces, overcame a
little adversity, and completed the ride. Special thanks to Erin for taking
over leader's duties. I sense there may be a power struggle between Erin and
Steve for second in command. ;)

Cheers,

Stuart

[Pat Horchoff]

Great report Stuie

Hope you are healing up well enough

pat

 

 

Stuart Gets Tired

(headline courtesy of Erin)

In the time since my last
brevet (otherwise known as the Lost Year), the
bike has generally been put to
use for the procurement and enjoyment of
brewed products. Mostly Trappist ales
from the great country of Belgium.
Made by Cistercian monks, a lot of
contemplation goes into these these fine
beverages. So much so, that after a
few, I cannot help but be reminded of
the bike's higher purpose: to provide
hours and hours of suffering alongside
my dear comrades.

Winter turned,
spring brevets were passing, and in April I put on the bike
shorts for a
grueling 5K around City Park. Success! Greatness within reach,
the June 200K
would be my return to form. On game day I was well rested. The
usual bedlam of
my neighborhood settles down around sunrise, so the 2:00PM
start time allowed
for a full morning's sleep. Arrived at Horchoff Hilton,
with warm greetings
from Captain Pat. First Officer Steve canceled, probably
having had a dark
premonition (more on this later), but in his stead we had
a substitute Steve
visiting from Alabama, riding a gorgeous sky blue
randonneur/porteur from
Boulder Bicycles. Rounding out the group was Erin,
rarin' to go on her new
Bacchetta.

We shoved off and headed toward the city. My first time riding the
levee
path in New Orleans, after the construction going on over the past
couple
years. Turned around at Audubon Park and started upriver to LaPlace.
Earlier
that morning Dennis and Alison had departed from Ponchatoula, riding
our
route in reverse. We met them at the trailhead in River Ridge. Glad to
see
that Dennis is still holding down #1 spot as club fashion plate!

Now we
took off six strong. After a break at the rest stop in St. Rose,
Steve and
Alison broke away. My legs were feeling pretty good so I decided
to see if I
could hang. Yes, but only by riding third wheel (thanks y'all)!
Alison is
obviously ready for the 50 hour group at PBP. We stopped at the
Spillway.
Dennis and Erin arrived... Pat however was still enjoying the
affect of all
that Caribbean fun, and had turned around. Five of us now. 

Got to the
control in LaPlace and refueled. Now the long and lonesome
stretch on Old 51 to
Ponchatoula. We started going with a good paceline.
After some vexing
mechanicals earlier that day though, Dennis and Alison
were motivated to wrap
it up. They turned on the afterburners and quickly
became a dot on the horizon.
Three of us now! 

K's passed uneventfully, and we managed to sidestep the
storm visible to the
west. I could feel my legs fading a bit, especially after
the epic Manchac
bridge climb (which featured epic head and cross winds).
Somehow I failed to
notice Middendorf's as we passed, which seems impossible
given my addiction
to fried seafood. Near the onramp to the I-55 section were a
few monster
truck tires obstructing the shoulder. That's not good, I thought.
At that
point though I was starting to get more concerned about a DNF from
plain
bonking.

Erin led the way into town, and we arrived at the control
just before
twilight. Sustenance! We ate, got our nightriding gear ready and
headed out
for the return trip. Fortified with a spicy Italian and the syrupy
goodness
of my sweet tea/lemonade beverage, I was feeling optimistic about
finishing
this ride. Erin and Steve were pushing it though, so after my bit of
whining
we settled on a moderate pace.

Erin led us through the I-55 again,
zipping along with Steve on her wheel. I
was lagging, and absently staring at
the dim spot illuminated just ahead of
me, headlamp being set on low. 

In an
instant, those monster truck tires reappeaed, and demanded my
attention!
Reflexes took over. I was able to avoid them by swerving off the
shoulder into
the gravel, but grabbed way too much front brake. Circus time!
I flipped over
hard, landing on my shoulder, and just to make sure I also
received sufficient
insult, the bike landed hard on top of me. Ouch.

I stood up and assessed the
situation. All teeth still in place. Right quad
banged and bruised, but no
bleeding. Right collarbone was poking kind of
funny at the clavicle joint, but
not broken and a little massage seemed to
get it settled down. Bike still in
one piece... ok we're good to go! God I
love randonneuring!

I chased down
Erin and Steve. They had stopped to make some adjustment to
something. "Well
that was fun," I observed as I rolled up. Sensing my irony,
Erin thought I was
talking about the I-55 section. After I described the
mishap, Erin was
momentarily in disbelief. "You know what an endover
actually is, right?" Yep.
As we were readying to roll again, I realized both
my water bottles were
missing. Back to the tires! The bottles were right
there. I also realized the
two bananas in my pocket had exploded. Thank
goodness for the ziploc protecting
my brevet card.

Three hours to go, and my attention transferred from legs to
my throbbing
shoulder. Any change in hand position had to be slowly negotiated
to avoid
stabbing pains. We arrived at the LaPlace control. The clerk initialed
our
cards but refused to put the time. Whatever. Erin offered a couple
Advils
which helped a lot. Out of the control, down to river road. The moon
started
rising from the horizon as we crossed the spillway, a gorgeous red.
Erin
wanted to get a picture of it but insisted on riding a little further so
we
could get closer. Stopped in Kenner for a phone call to wake up Pat. Back
at
the Horchoff Hilton for an eleven hour ride. Success!

All things
considered, a great experience. Met a few new faces, overcame a
little
adversity, and completed the ride. Special thanks to Erin for taking
over
leader's duties. I sense there may be a power struggle between Erin and
Steve
for second in command. ;)

Cheers,

Stuart

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[Carey, Alison M]

Thanks for the report, I enjoyed it. :)

Alison

-----Original Message-----
From: crescent-cit...@googlegroups.com [mailto:crescent-cit...@googlegroups.com] On Behalf Of Stuart LeBlanc
Sent: Monday, June 08, 2015 3:41 PM
To: crescent-cit...@googlegroups.com
Subject: Ride report - CCR 200K evening brevet 6/6

[Erin]

Yes, there's a big power struggle there between me and Steve! Ha!

But you Stuart, are now nominated for official ride reporter! That also means you have to come on all the rides.

Here's to never getting "tired" again. Great report.

Erin