16 Aug 2008.
All light any time I woke up, I listened, hoping to hear that the rain stopped. Unfortunately, I just continuously heard rain. By 5:30am, I couldn't lay in the tent anymore, I had to start getting ready for the day.
I steeled myself, dressed in my rain gear, and unzipped the tent to find no rain. The rain noise that I had heard continuously was nothing other than the water falling off the leaves of the trees in the park. The sky was still overcast, but some blue was starting to shine in. The day was looking up.
The morning meeting (after breakfast) was interesting. Each morning, as I have indicated, each distance would gather together and go over cue notes, warnings, eatery tips, etc. This morning when the distance leaders broke announced their locations only two were populated. The 65 and the 30. There were no 50 riders. The prevailing theory, at least among the 65ers, is there are three types of people who ride the 50 mile: (1) Those that want to do the 50, (2) those that are scared to do the 65 (and over the course of the tour discover their strength and move up to 65), and (3) those that should be riding the 35 (who by day 3 have moved down).
By the end of the meeting, we (Myself, Donna, and Sheryl) had convinced Arnie (whom you may recall from Day 1) to join our group. Day 1's pace had taken its toll on Arnie, who along with another "A-team" member, had opted to ride 50 miles on Day 2. Our promise of an easy pace and fun riding partners was enough to convince him to rejoin the 65ers.
Ride wise, the day started out great. Direction wise, not so much. The cue sheet was a tad unclear about one of the turns (and, of course, the road didn't have a sign), so we wound up going the wrong way, and ended up in Spencer State Park (a very nice picturesque park). As we crossed the boundary of the park, I called for us to stop and consult the directions and map. Together Arnie, Sheryl, and myself formulated a plan. We would not back track, and instead tackle the challenging hill at the entrance of the state park, join route 31, and ultimately rejoin the route. Which we did without indecent, although it is worth noting the road surface of rt 31 is horrible (as it approaches 9).
After that slight detour, the ride was pretty and uneventful. The hills were long, but not overpowering. Donna wasn't as dominant on these hills as she was the previous day; but Arnie made up for it, easily powering away on each hill, and sometimes going back down to encourage others.
One highlight of the ride was cresting a hill in the center of some small town and coming upon a wedding.
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| Arnie and Donna looking on as the wedding commences |
We watched the procession in silence, so as not to disturb the ceremony. We left when the officiator began to speak. The location was very nice, although the pink, white, and black bridesmaid dresses not so much.
Not much farther along, we crested another steep hill into yet another small town's common and meet with the "B-team" for lunch.
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| The Country Store had a special on Turkey wraps |
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| The groups mingle after enjoying lunch |
After lunch, the Bs left first, we rolled our bikes to take off soon after them. As we stood next to the Harley visible in the first picture, Donna complimented the owner (who was sitting next to it with his daughter) on the bike. Sheryl clipped in her right foot and took off. I, who ordinarily clip left first, thought, "hey that's a good idea, then if I fall I'll fall away from the Harley," and clipped in with my right foot and proceeded to fall right over onto my right side. Missing hitting my head on the Harley by inches. My knee was skinned pretty bad, my ego far worse as it was a stupid accident. On the bright side, I found a nickel.
Fortunately, I had a first aid kit packed in my panniers. So a little road site first aid (away from the Harley) was in order. Unfortunately my kit didn't have tape, so I couldn't wrap the wound like I really wanted to, instead I had to put one of the largest band aids and hope for the best.
Riding with a skinned knee wasn't too enjoyable. I'll spare ya'll the gritty details, but suffice it to say I don't recommend it.
As we made our way through the farms around Quabbin, we could see a large storm cloud heading our way. Unusual for New England, it was just one cloud, so we hoped we would miss it.
We didn't.
A light drizzle started and convinced us to put on our rain gear. As we streamed into town, we could see droves of people walking towards us on the other side of the road. Turns out they were fleeing the town's fair. We knew we had a checkpoint around here somewhere, so we navigated these tight roads. Tight normally, even tighter with cars parked on the sides.
As we arrived at the stop, the rain picked up, enough to convince Donna to put on her real rain gear (she had two pieces of rain gear, a basic light rain jacket, and a medium/heavy rain one). We headed off again, and not 5 minutes later the rain stopped completely. Total rain time: under 20 minutes.
The rest of the ride was relatively uneventful, if tiring. At one point we saw a group of randonneurs on their 350km ride heading in the opposite direction. We crossed a wonderfully picturesque wooden bridge and were rewarded with a horribly steep (but car free) climb. We saw two pacifiers tossed to the side of the road within 100 feet of each other. We had a Pan Mass rider (in a car) pull over to help us (he thought we were lost when we were just flipping our cue sheets, but the thought is appreciated).
By the end of the ride we were tired and the last road seemed to go on forever. Finally a sign warning of children and of the presence of a school meant our ride was at an end.
The sky appeared to be threatening rain, however when all things were said and done (camp was set up and showers taken) this is what we saw:
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| Rain in the distance, missing the campsite |
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| ...And clear skies for the night |
Dinner was served in a Hall 0.5 miles away and the whole group (all 82 of us) walked there. The food, Northern Italian, was wonderful. Potatoes, Pasta, Divine Pork, steamed veg, salad, and desert. Delicious.
Some people were heading to a bar after dinner, but that didn't feel like our scene. Instead we returned to camp and being to nice a night setup our own make shift party. We setup incense to keep the mosquitoes at bay (it worked!), mixed our own cocktails (Vodka and Red Gatorade), and listened to the tones (thanks to Arnie's iPod speakers). In a short while we were joined by more and more people, each bringing a different offering (beer, wine, etc.). At our peak there were ten or so of us.
Obviously, we were a bit rambunctious and as 10pm approached we were chided a couple times before we finally acquiesced, cleaned up, and went to bed.
The stories and the company were great, making our "last day" party one of the more memorable moments of the ride.
Distance: 68.5 miles
Climbing: ~5200 ft
Ave Speed: 11.9 mph
Max Speed: 36.1 mph
Time: 5 hours 44 minutes 56 seconds