There is a small bike club in Licking County called, the Licking County Bicycle Club.  This is where I got my start and where I discovered Cindy Berard, riding a road bike with Samsonite-like luggage on the front and rear of her bike, dressed in sweat suits to hide the rolls of flab (she's come a long way so it's hard to imagine the image for some of you). One of our email copy list members, Belinda Hughes, recently joined the club and has been bragging about the destruction she has wrought on the lcbc group rides, punishing many of the members with bike path sprints.  I decided to join them for a group ride to Bladensburg, to check out this new sensation, and I would then head over to Martinsburg and meet up with Mark V's COP roving ride.

I calculated Mark's group would cover the 45 miles to M-burg by 10:45am and the lcbc would cover the 25 miles to B-burg (starting at the Nerk Y) by 9:30, where I would eat at Butlers with them before heading west for 5 miles to catch Mark in M-burg, by 10:45.  Fifteen people turned out for the lcbc which is a huge turnout.  They have the destination but no preplanned routes so there was some debate about how to get to B-burg, with the flattest possible route winning, of course.  Instead of having 2 groups, they kind of hang together with regrouping stops.  To make a very long story short, after 23 miles we had killed 2 hours and 20 minutes!!!!  Instead of  stopping in B-burg I hung a left on Divan and rode over to M-burg, arriving at 10:44.  As an aside, Belinda has gotten much stronger riding a hybrid with fat tires and I thought I heard her say, "Tell Cindy I'm gonna beat her by the end of the year!"  As for lcbc, if you know of any beginning cyclists who maybe want to join a club but think they are too slow, send them to the lickingcountybicycleclub.com website and sign up.  Good and considerate cyclists, just not too fast.

I drank a Monster and ate a Snickers while waiting for the COP folks.  As I waited at a gas station, a SUV with Wyoming plates pulled in.  Don't see that very often.  Eventually, Jamie Group Killer came flying in and we waited for others to catch up.  The Boss (Craig Butler) had again failed to show at the start and Group Killer was disappointed, having to ride alone, out in front.  Eventually, Mark V, Jeff S, that Recumbent Dude from the Thursday ride and Amanda rode in and we headed off to Utica, making it there without incident.  At Utica, Retro George was waiting and we went into the famous Pioneer restaurant that has a genuine 1800-style rifle hanging on the wall.  How cool is that.  Now, while sitting in Pioneer, and using special high speed camera, I was able to catch what normally is a blur--Cindy Berard with fork and pancake piece headed towards an open mouth.  This move has been compared to a cobra strike but I was able to catch it.  Perhaps as rare as a 4-leaf clover.

We finished eating and while we were prepping for the start of the ride, George was inside trying to negotiate his $8,00 lunch down to a more manageable $3.00.  I should also say that Recumbent Dude's real name is Nathan, a great guy, who started riding last fall and chose a recumbent.  That he can hang with "A" riders after a few months makes me think his nickname should be "The Natural" but I like Recumbent Dude too much. Also, while George got lost following Mark V's directions, his maps are easily the most comprehensive I have ever seen.  Two pages, both sides, with directions in English, German, Spanish and Swahili.    Some thought this encyclopedia of maps was confusing, I thought the map very clear, and said so often.

Anyway, we headed west on Homer with Group Killer, George and I separating from the rest who wanted to digest the pancakes before riding hard.  We eventually got to Johnstown and there, I announced I would stop so I could take some group rider images (Discover Ohio is using them for a special web-based promotion if I can send them b).  After awhile, Cindy and gang rode by and I got some images, with Cindy giving me the finger.  I sealed the camera in a plastic bag and saw Cindy's gang had decided not to, you know, maybe wait while I got organized so I could join them???  I chalked it up to delirium from fighting a surprisingly strong wind and the exhilaration of being in front of me. I arrived in Alexandria and took the bike path back to the Nerk Y.  GET THIS!!!!  The lcbc cyclists were arriving in the parking lot from the B-burg ride, having covered 52 miles in 6.5 hours.  Gosh, so much more I could describe but got to keep it under 1000 words.  What surprises me is how feature rich are these rides and how easy it is to create content, some of it true and one or two points not true.  Lastly, while I finished with 75 miles,Mark V and gang would have had 90. Below is Recumbent Dude with Jeff, Cindy and Mark V, yelling something at me.

Broken record time (again) but with a dismal outcome.  Once again we gathered around someone with a large screen phone, showing every storm cell in the Midwest converging on our ride route. Frequently, we have laughed in the face of the wet threat and in fact, missed the rain.  Not so lucky this time, despite Jeff S's assurance one long and lean green blob was going to slide north of us.  Low turnout, probably 22 cyclists, with Group Killer, Justin of Jeni's racing team (discovered Jeni's is an ice cream chain in central Ohio), Satan Mick, Jeff S. Mark V, Greg Hall and some dude on a recumbent, among others.

We headed out old 161 but instead of continuing on that flatish, desolate stretch of road, we headed south, making our way towards the terrible Col du Alward.  By the time we reached the foot of this monster climb (that's relative to the other climbs around New Albany) we had 6 people, including the recumbant dude who is by far the strongest recumbent rider I have ever seen and he wasn't some 80-year-old guy but maybe 40 (what's he doing on a recumbent?).  GK set a scorching pace that no one could follow up Alward but eased up a bit and we were a group of 4 by the time we hit 310.  Justin maintained a constant 26-27mph pace over the long stretch on Dog Hollow and pulled left at the turn on York (or is that Watkins) where I promptly set a 12mph pace to rt. #16, doing so to allow everyone to recover, including 2 others who got back on the train, including recumbant dude.  We headed south, east and then north on Gale.  GK got to Gale and again set a pace up that hill that had me on the rivet.  As we neared my house I shouted, "Anyone want to get a refill", hoping that might slow things but the pace continued, unabated.  We roared out Granview, down the hill and that recumbent guy whooshed by and attacked at the base of the climb!  BASTARD!!!!!  That's the last thing I needed but clung onto Mick's wheel and soon we reached Silver and discovered a sheriff, motioning us to stay on to our intended route down to 16.  We reached the intersection and found 3 firefighters, who informed us we had to turn around and could not continue into Granville.  I asked what would happen if we ignored them and continued on.  They thought that was funny and told me several sheriffs just beyond the turn would have a taser for me.  I then tried what almost never works, the classic, "Do you know who I am?", which produced more guffaws. 

Jeff suggested we turn around, besides, it was getting very dark to our west, the direction we had to go if we wanted to retrieve our cars.  Somewhere out around Watkins Road it began to rain, hard and cold, really, really cold.  Then we turned west on old 161 and it rained harder, really, really hard but funny thing, the fishtail squeezed from the tires was warm,  Maybe because 161 was heated from the earlier sun, or maybe some warming friction from the turning wheel pressing the water against the pavement before being deposited into my face.  Whatever it was, the water was not too bad, just way too much of it.  I hate riding like this, heavy rain coming straight down, mixing with heavy witches brew off the tires in front.  I hoped whatever I kept swallowing at least had nutrional value.  We kept going but I think at one point Jeff, hoping to keep his new Seven protected, sought refuge under a wide tree limb and I think Recumbent Dude turned his bike upside down so the seat was an umbrella for he and Jeff, so we were 4, forelorn figures on a dark and stormy evening.  We arrived back at the parking lot with 40 miles and a 21.8mph average.

Mark

Been there done that time again.  Forecast looks bad, Weatherwoman Peggy thrusts a big screen phone under everyone's nose to back up her assertion that doom is headed our way. The color screen shows green blobs with yellow interior and red centers making a beeline for Canal Winchester.  Weather outlook does look grim.  I teeter on jumping back in my car but the usual combination of appeals to my pride and manhood, by those intending to ride, causes me to succumb to peer pressure.

Now, in the interest of full disclosure, I had earlier anticipated a rainout so had gone trail running over a rather hilly course and, while Craig can run 8 miles and show up later in the day to ride at the front and punish everyone, my fatigue threshold is much lower.  I showed up intending to ride with the fun bunch.  At the last minute, I jumped out with the A's, regretting it immediately.  We headed out Waterloo to Slough and then Alspach.  I had taken up the last spot in the peloton in anticipation of a quick drop.  Someone 3 riders ahead allowed a gap to develop and I had no interest in attempting a bridge.  Jeff, Mitch, Ryan and I formed up and pressed forward into a stiff southeast wind, grey sky and sprinkles. Soon the precip accelerated, puddles formed and fishtail sprang from the tires.  Gosh, this was fun.  I took a pull, drifted to the back, began drinking road grime, rode up beside Ryan and said see ya later.  I was going to turn around but the southern sky was brightening so I kept going.  Soon I heard a noise behind me and turned to watch The Boss and GK pulling the A group at a high speed and they passed me like a Ferrari passing an Edsel.  They had taken the first of 2 wrong turns that very temporarily had put them behind us.

AT mile 12, the sun broke through and the sky was virtually clear other than for some thin, high clouds.  The temperature and humidity had dropped too, but not the wind.  As I rode into Amanda, I observed what a glorious late afternoon it had become.  Ryan was waiting there and soon Mitch, Pugilist Mark, Rick Holt and Mark V arrived.  I was going to take a shortcut but was persuaded to shoulder on with the gang.  While the first half of the route into Amanda was flat with a few rollers, the second half was BRUTAL and I think, maybe, the gang got tired of hearing me shreek, "Not another hill!" every time we turned a corner.  It was as if someone had tried to create the hilliest return route possible and in fact, that is exactly what the devious Ryan had planned.  Out Hamburg, onto Delmont and then up that steep climb.  Rick Holt, having just completed Assault on Mt. Mitchell was riding unusually (maybe shockingly) strong. From Delmont we passed the flatter Westfall to go left on hilly Crumley, then Mt Zion and finally over to the mountainous ascents on Pickerington where I thought I saw some winter snow lingering at the top of the pass.

Finally rolled into Canal with 43 miles and a paltry 18.2 average, compared to the two youknowwhos who finished with 22.1 average.  Retro George too was there, holding court with vivid descriptions of his exploits. One of my favorite words is circumlocution, which describes someone who requires many words to explain something that could or should be explained in few words (yes, just like these overly long ride reports).  Without thinking, I blurted out, "So, when did you get dropped?" and cringed, realizing I had just set off the Mount Vezuvious of circumlocutory talk.  In a very nice way, I quickly asked George to accept the challenge of responding in 12 words or less and to his credit, he did.  Mitch noted that George's screw-top water bottle was nearly full.  I volunteered to bring him a normal water bottle with a spout that he could have for future rides but he said he prefers the screw-top version???  He said when he uses a normal water bottle he forgets to wash them after use and so prefers the screw-top version so he can just throw them away.  George is one-of-a-kind and adds a lot of character and enjoyment to our rides.  He also revealed that after riding so strong at Saturday's roving ride without problem, he went for a ride on Sunday and had a heart episode, the duration of which was 4 hours with a heart beat at 170bpm. Based on what George has told me, while alarming, his condition is not dire, but he does need to have a procedure sooner rather than later. 

I found the below image from an earlier New Albany ride.  That's Dennis in the Savage Hill jersey, Super Dave to his left and Jeff S and his monster calves to the far left. This is before the ride, which explains why Dennis is still with the group.

Had 40 people arrive for the COP Roving Ride which someone said should be named the "2 Burgs & a Ville" ride because the route went through Martinsburg, Bladensburg and Granville, as well as Utica and St. Louisville.  Prominent attendees in the "is or used to be strong rider" category was of course, the inimitable Retro George, a few of the Thursday New Albany A riders, Farmer Mike, Savage Hill's Woody, Larry P & Lisa, Super Dave, Jeff S (work was to make him a late arrival so we left a map), the entire crew from Kenda Mark V and others, whose faces I recognize, if not the names.

We headed out Concorde, north on Castle and then began the hills, first Sportsman Club, a screaming downhill on Chatham and instead of turning left onto Marion, the traditional route into Utica, we make a right and a quick left onto Preston and that long, uphill road before turning left onto Weaver.  By now, our lead group had George, Woody, Larry, Lisa, two New Albany guys and me, hanging on.  After turning onto Weaver, I clearly stated we would be making a left at the bottom of the hill and George, flew by the turn with everyone screaming for him to stop.  This was a pattern soon to repeat itself many times until finally I just stopped telling him the turns because said information was of no use to him anyway.  As an aside, his chatter was noticeably, and refreshingly, bereft of minute-by-minute heart beat updates.  However, having just replaced his 27 tooth cog for a 23, there was no shortage of comment about, "How can a guy with a 23 on back hang with you on these hills" and variations of that theme.  It has to be said, George is very close now to his usual form and soon I will be bombarded with the "I can't believe I dropped you" or, "I can't believe you hung on so long", etc...

We arrived at the foot of Reynolds.  In emails leading up to this ride I had promoted "Cash Prizes" for the first cyclist to the top of this hill but I conveniently forgot to mention it at the start.  Hoping to retain my one dollar, I headed up with motivation  and just nipped a fast charging Larry, with Woody having chosen to take the climb off.  We took a break in Utica and watched the others arrive and discuss their rest of route intentions.  Seemed like many were doing the entire 76 mile route.  We headed out Blacksnake, north on Hull then east on Bell Church before cruising into Martinsburg and then onto Divan and Henpeck into Bladensburg.  We arrived at Butlers Restaurant and, dripping with perspiration from the humidity and effort, sat 2 to a booth, with 8 of us occupying 4 booths, rather than squeezing 4 to a booth, as is normal.  The waitress didn't seem to mind and in fact, provided story-telling entertainment

The return route was new to most of the riders.  Once south on Henpeck we turned left onto Long, then Pine View, south on Purity before the knee buckling hills on Loches.  Lots of super rollers on the return route, and after passing through St. Louisville, we began the long and steep climb up St. Joseph Road.  I had forgotten how hard that is and believe it comparable to Rocky Road in Circleville.  Woody pulled away from Larry and I to get the KOM points.  At Dry Creek and New Burg, I took a more direct route to Johnstown while Woody, Larry, George and Lisa stayed on route by dropping into Granville.  I finished with 67 miles and 4800' of climbing.  I checked in with the crew who had driven to KY for the Horsey Hundred and sounded like they were having a great time.

 

Jamie was unable to attend the New Albany ride so he  invited me to join him at the trail head of the Marie Hickey trail at Black Hand Gorge, from where we would first time trial to Frazysburg and then trail run the MH loop, twice, a rather hilly but beautiful trail above the Licking River, east of Newark.  We agreed Jamie would start the bike route and I'd wait 3 minutes before starting.  Funny thing, by the time Jamie exited the parking lot, I was already on his wheel, drafting.  The route was rolling with a few too many intersections to navigate but otherwise a good route.  We reached F-burg at mile 10 with a 24mph average and my legs burning in protest.  I yelled for him to keep going and I settled in for the return, reaching the parking lot with a 22.1 average.  Jamie had already put his bike away, changed to running shoes and was gone, I suspected driven by the desire to lap me on his second lap around the trail.

I was desperate not to be humiliated by a lapping and so when the trail came down to the river, where it goes parallel to a bridge before doubling back after crossing the bridge, I jumped into the river with the fishes and began free styling across, tiring at the halfway point and switching to a backstroke, then to a breast stroke, then to a dog paddle and finally, just let the current carry me to the opposite shore.  I'm pretty sure I gained a valuable second or two.  The trail then led up to a ridge and gets very steep, a point at which I had to walk and a panicky feeling of dread prevailed as I anticipated the runaway freight train whooshing by but he never came.  Jamie had stopped after one lap of the loop and we agreed it was too hot to run again.  Now on to New Albany for an evening beat down at the legs of many.

For energy, I prepared and ate a PB & J sandwich and washed it down with a Monster.  Arrived at the NA parking lot and was relieved to discover that Dennis apparently is not yet holding a grudge for the many shots I take at him in this forum (I'll have to try harder).  Big crowd including Farmer Mike makiing his first Thursday appearance, Super Dave making a rare start and Pugilist Mark Rossi (long story I'll tell some day about Mark saving a group of 12 of us cyclists from one drunk driver) also Paul Stock and a large turnout of the usual suspects.  Farmer Mike had already ridden earlier in the day with Jon the Dentist so he was looking for a slower ride, like me, as was Jeff S (swine-flu like symptoms that included oinking sounds) and Dennis, seeing an opportunity to punish me, joined in with the "B" group too.  The A group took off and I kind of regretted not being able to go too since without Group Killer, it was likely to stay a sizeable group.  Anyway, a large group of B's took off and we had a lot of fun.  It's nice to be able to ride and not breath too hard, talk to fellow cyclists, enjoy the scenery while dodging Jeff's virus soaked coughs and snot honkers.  We cruised into Johnstown and then out Sportsman Club.  Upon reaching Northridge, I made a snap decision to head south while a still large group of B's headed towards Louden.  Came upon a slower group of B's at Northridge and rode with them for awhile.  On old 161 the A group caught me and it appeared there werre 12-15 still together. At the parking lot, Satan Mick said the A group had a 22 average.  Don't forget, Saturday morning at 8:00am is a ride from the high school in Johnstown to Utica and then on to Bladensburg.  72 miles for the Bladensburg route and 42 for Utica.  Lots

Although I was attending an academic event at the high school and thus wasn't able to make it to Canal, my many spies were well placed and have sent me copious notes that allowed me to put together the following.

Good turnout with racing kits represented from Walker, Jeni's, Savage Hill and other very fit people, with Opie and Andy (Craig & Jamie) conspicuous in their standard black shorts and rather ugly, non-affiliated, jerseys. Word has gotten out that a couple of hayseeds are kicking ass on the Tuesday night ride and the hired guns are coming in to see if they can put Opie and Andy back in their place.  However, the racing types were hedging their bets with statements like, "Went hard this weekend, don't know how I'll do tonight.", which must make Jamie (Group Killer) and Craig (The Boss) roll their eyes because they have a "hard" day, every day, or so it seems.

The pace began moderately with Group Killer and Boss forming the front of the double pace line. Their plan was to let others set the pace at the start of the hills on Pickerington to see who attacked.  After the stop sign on Pickerington, a Walker uniformed guy jumped away with GK and Boss jumping on, along with 2-3 others. Boss attacked which shed all but Walker and GK, GK jumped and only Boss could cover and that was it, a sizeable gap opened over a group of 6.  GK and Boss continued to work together and stayed away for the 42 miles and 22.1 average.  Wish I had been there to give perspective from the back.

After the day started with rain, it all cleared out and we had a beautiful late afternoon for cycling in New Albany.  Retro Geroge was there and reacted to the fall and faint of Tuesday with a big smile and a shrug of the shoulders. I told him Jamie had begun to pucker up for mouth-to-mouth, just as George came to. Also there were Greg Hall, Rob Rhodes, Satan Mick, Terry, John Morgan, Todd Lee, a Walker jersey guy, Colnago Ron, Jeff S, and others.  Noticeably absent was Dennis. It appeared that turnout for the B and C group was a little light.

We headed out old 161 with a sw wind pushing us.  After 11 miles we rolled into Alexandria with a 25.9 avg.  Pretty much everyone had hung on and continued to do so along Racoon Valley road although Terry and John had stopped in Alexandria to fix a flat.  On the slope up to Louden, Rob jumped from the pack (as he would do many times thereafter) and Jamie jumped onto his wheel.  We turned onto Louden and looking back there was no Jamie, apparently he had been dropped yet again.  Later he made my eyes roll with the claim he had missed the turn and continued on into Granville (and I thought George was the king of excuses).  In any event, there did not appear to be much of an appetite for a pause to wait for Group Killer, despite my best efforts to rally support for the plan, so on we went, now facing a fairly strong head wind.  The pace dropped dramatically and no one had much of an appetite for long pulls.  We went all the way out to Sportsman Club, turning left and tackling those hills before turning south on Northridge and then west on Concorde.  Here, Rob made many attacks along the way into Johnstown, with someone jumping to fill the gap and others grabbing wheels to follow. 

The size of the group continued to dwindle while George and Mick did yomen's work keeping some of us in the game.  Out of Johnstown we took the normal route of Green Chapel and Clover Valley before heading west on Jug.  Rob continued to jump from the group and attack and the gaps continued to get filled, prompting some to wonder why Rob would not maybe once in awhile take a pull but perhaps he was practicing his race manuever.  We rolled into the parking lot with a 22.3mph average and 40 miles

A major accident on #33 had traffic backed up for miles and undoubtedly contributed to an unusually low turnout for a glorious late afternoon.  Retro George made his first appearance at Canal for the season.  The route was unusually flat for a Canal ride and a large group went with the A's and stayed together for a long time.  TOSRV fatigue was clearly an issue with some and people began to peal off with Group Killer, The Boss (who earlier in the day had run 8 miles) and Mitch Tallen taking most of the pulls. Of course the problem with this set-up is with 3 strong riders doing most of the rotation at the front, the pace was always high and seldom was there a let-up for small recovery periods.  We rolled into Baltimore and by then George had used the only line from his vast repertoire on me about 30 times, "I can't believe you're still here."  Please, someone come up with another one-liner that he can plug in there to relieve the monotony. We rolled into Baltimore with a 22.6mph avg.

George kept dropping back on the smallest hill but would come roaring back every time, unreal.  Soon we reached Lockville Road and the S curve prior to making a right-hand turn onto that short feeder road that links us to Pickerington Road. Someone yelled gravel and I slowed and inexplicably, turned into the church parking lot instead of the road.  Fortunately, Todd Lee saw this and get this, yelled, "Hold up a second guys".  What a classy guy!  Upon reeaching Pickerington Road, Todd and I took an alternate route back to Canal while Craig,Jamie, Savage Hill guy, Steve and George headed toward Slough.  Reaching the parking lot with a 22.4 average I took off to watch the final episode of Biggest Loser, a series I thoroughly enjoy.

Anyway, Jamie called me later to tell me the following.  After most had cleared out of the parking lot, Geroge was by Jamie's car and he clipped in and started to ride off but turned to say something and with the turning of his head so too did his front wheel and he fell.  George bounced up quickly, was unsteady, Jamie observed George's eyes roll up into his forehead and then pass out, falling again.  He recovered quickly and laughed it off and took off.  It appears by jumping up too quickly after the first fall, that led to the fainting episode. 

A glorious late afternoon greeted us as we arrived in Canal and predictably, the good weather brought out a mob, including many, many racer types who have caught wind that a couple of non-racer types are kicking butt and taking names.  Well, this latest batch was dispatched by The Boss & Group Killer, just like all others.  Unfortunately the dispatching also takes us out too.

Before the ride start, Pastor Mark called me to inquire about the route.  He was already riding and hoped to catch us.  I asked when he had started and his reply....8:00am!!!!  I had to ask how far he had gone and.....154 miles!!!!  More later.

The pace picked up dramatically heading out the long hill on Waterloo.  My legs felt leaden from having run up and down hills all day Sunday while avoiding being fragged by my son while paintballing.  We turned onto Slough with Craig going to the front, through the dips prior to the big hill.  Jamie had advanced to the front by then but prior to the hill pulled off and told Craig, "I'm not leading up this hill." so The Boss (Craig) took over. A guy in a Walker kit jumped by, setting off a flurry.  I struggled to the top in 6th place and looking down the hill, saw Group Killer and The Boss already extending a gap on everyone.  After nearing the top of the last hill on Amanda Northern I hoped maybe they would pause for regrouping but alas, the lead two were too busy humiliating the racer types.  I sat up and waited to link up with someone and quickly Steve O, Mario, Jeff S and 3 others came by and so I jumped on the tail.  We rode together on Alspach and Rockmill and while on Rockmill Steve implored Jeff, who was leading, to take shorter pulls at a higher pace.  I asked why, who would we catch?  We were miles behind Boss and GK it seemed but to Steve's credit, there were a couple cyclists out there.  Turning left on Royalton I took a pull to the crest of that rather steep descent.  I noticed a dog race to the edge of the road at the bottom of the hill and crouch, as if waiting to leap.  I braked and the others (2 had left us so only 4 left) went to my left, using me as a shield, which is a smart move The damn dog made a couple more steps onto the road and I expected I would hit it but it stopped while I continued to brake.  Steve, Jeff and the other two guys gapped me of course and then, rather than, you know, maybe ease a little to let me catch back on, sped away.  I slapped my thigh and started laughing.  Those guys are so funny and I giggled all the way around thinking about that maneuver.  Those guys probably also enjoy pausin g at an intersection before bolting in front of a semi just to get a gap. Ho, Ho, Ho.

Then I missed a turn, checked a map and got back on the route.  Soon a good group of guys came along, Dennis, Ryan, Mark V, Greg Hall and a couple of others.  We worked together all the way around and cruised into the parking lot, 43 miles, 19.6mph on a rather hilly route. Ryan had taken our group's sign sprint going into Lithopolis and I noted it does not appear that marriage has impeded his fitness. Jamie and Craig finished at 22.3mph.  Yikes, that's smoking.  Dusk was setting in as I drove away and called Mark, who was still on his bike, doing repeats in his driveway to finish at 200 miles.  If there is such a thing as reincarnation I hope to come back as a Pastor, so I too can ride all day, every day, except Sundays.

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Another eventful New Albany ride that I am all too happy to distort.  The usual suspects showed including Retro George and his three, yes 3, cycle computers and heart that just keeps on beating despite George's frightening descriptions of heart beat irregularities.  Also making a cameo appearance was Flying Tuna Berard, looking rather silly wearing arm warmers on this 70D afternoon.  As a show of solidarity, I quickly put my arm warmers on and seeing this, she quickly whipped hers off.

Jeff's route had us going into Granville where we would hang a left on Thresher, it having that tough climb with false flats. Otherwise, the first half of the route was relatively flat and a large group hung together, including Dennis who day by day is getting stronger and closing fast on his goal of making me pay for my many tauntings.  Also there was Group Killer, John Morgan, Colnago Ron, Jeff S, two Sausage Hill racers, Retro George and others. 

We reached Granville and turned onto Thresher with Dennis blurting with a tinge of desperation just before the turn, "Ohhhhh, is this that climb?" followed immediately by "See you all later."  Jamie led with John and I kind of close and everyone strung out.  We reached the top and turned left, completing the climb.  At the top, Jamie, John and I were together and Jamie uttered words I didn't think I would ever hear from him, "SHOULD WE WAIT AND REGROUP?"  What?  I looked at him and wondered if an alien had taken possession of Group Killer's mind.  When absent Craig's dominating influence, apparently GK can be reasonable.  I looked back and said the only thing any of us would say under these conditions, "Screw them, let's make them work for it". GK asked if he should hammer and realizing the consequences that meant for me I said no, let's just ride at something less than that and if they catch us that's fine. We were going up New Burg and that long uphill stretch with a steep section at the top.  GK was not riding hard but nevertheless, that was pushing John and I into the red.  John rose to sprint up the final bit but his bike was wobbling all over the place and into GK's back wheel.  John fell hard to the right and it was as if watching in slow motion.  I'm certain I froze and made no effort to steer around, instead watching John's wheels slide leftward and me hoping they would not slide too far.  I cringed for the impact but somehow, avoided it. John laid there for a moment and after ascertaining real injury had been avoided, I thanked him for creatively providing a needed rest.

The fall created the opportunity to regroup and we had 7-8 cyclists when we hit the hills on Stone Quarry.  Inexplicably, the guy with the racing heart and annoying habit of constantly informing everyone within earshot what is the heartbeat number, hung in there, dropping back on the hills but then catching up.  Out Concorde we rode, down Casweel out of Johnstown and then after turning right on Duncan Plains, made the odd turn onto Caswell (nice route option) and the several long hills there.  Eventually, we had a group of 5 and thankfully George had finally dropped back so things became much more quiet. We arrived at the parking lot with a 21.7 average and 43 miles.  By the way, whatever happened to Ginger?  Rumor has it now that she is a successful racer she is hanging out with racer types and no longer finds us stimulating. Also, where's Roy? 

Well, had planned not to ride tosrv but Dennis persuaded me to join with he and George to do 50 down and yes, 50 back. Forecast was for 25-35 afternoon winds from the SW with gusts above 40 so I thought the return would be fun, if not the outbound fifty.  At the start, George said he was headed over to hook up with someone named "Big Chainring" and I figured we would not see him again and I was almost right.  Dennis said we should start with a large group that was forming that included Tim Tyler, Lisa, Todd Lee, Mitch Tallon, Woody, Larry P, and many others.  Off we went and after getting through all the intersections the pace heated up.  We passed a large group of riders in light blue jerseys with "Cousins" printed on them and a few of them joined in.  However, soon people started drifting off, Woody, Larry, Mitch, etc..  It appeared to me that good buddy Dennis too dropped off but he is so sensitive to my email barbs I don't want to actually say he dropped.  He may very well have been with our whittled down group of 8 and maybe after my pulls as I drifted back, sweat in the eye prevented me from noting he was still there??? 

We passed hundreds of people and at one point our group passed a large group that included an attractive woman.  Someone in our party reached over and squeezed her rear!  For our female audience I want you all to know I immediately rode beside this oaf and admonished him in the sternest language possible for his crass behavior.  On we rode with the wind growing in intensity from the sw and our pace line, at the rear, drifting farther left of center. After 29 miles we reached the first rest stop in Circleville with a 21.6mph avg but since I had not paid the ride fee, I sat on a stone column marking the entrance waiting for Dennis.  I waited and waited and finally gave up and headed south. Saw Frans, Mark V, Brad the dentist, ponytailed Scott, etc.. and kept going south.  Finally, I reached an intersection where I thought I might stop and spot Dennis and so I waited and waited.  Thousands of cyclists passed but no Dennis (later someone claimed they saw "No-pay Dennis" in the food line in Circleville so that could explain things).  I decided to ride north, thinking maybe No-pay had a mechanical problem.  Rode for miles and then, there he was, riding with a group of octogenarians on recumbents.  I decided I had enough of the headwind and kept going.  Came across George in Circleville and he was still looking for this Big Chainring guy.  We talked for a bit but it was eerie, there were still a few cyclists, mostly fattys, going by and George is yammering about this and that with a heart beat update included.  It reminded me of refugees fleeing an oncoming army and the weak are at the end and here is George, oblivious to the panic around him talking about nothing.

Anyway, I headed north and enjoyed the tailwind but noted it began to swing more and more from the west, rather than the sw.  I know many of you have your own experiences that we all would enjoy so please reply to all with your descriptions, except for Dennis, nothing you can say can cover for what I witnessed..