So Paul has made this permanate and Steve thinks it would be fun to ride. Susan will be riding--she's done Boston Montreal Boston--and a few weeks later done the Last Chance in Colorado. Two 1200 K brevets in two weeks... Dang--
Susan "The Flame!" Plonsky, here at the start of the 200K.
Regarde, mes amis! Celebrity rider and legend, Steve Jewel.
The Superstitions loom as we quickly leave the city of Mesa behind us.
Commander Paul Layton avec Le Velo. Time for pictuers...
And repairs...
Climbing up the road. Scenic and beautiful. The mountain air is fresh and cool. These mountains are new to me--only on a bike can you enjoy the colours and exciting views at every turn!
The Flame and Commander set the pace up the mountain!
At the rim of Canyon Lake.
A sweet climb, and now down into the canyon to the 2nd Controle.
Across the bridge...
We'll be on the road seen here, and just over is the controle.
We get to the controle--then, I realize that we have to turn around and climb back out! The controle is where the road ends, mes amis! The joke is on me. I was too busy enjoying the ride to really study the que sheet...
As Susan said, we are now doing a truely Arizona Brevet--long stretches of road thru the desert.
On our way to Coolidge, AZ the tempature is easily 105 degrees.
Paul leading the way. Our next stop will be near Casa Grande Nat'l Monument.
Not really on the brevet route, but if the RBA says we're gonna stop and see the Ruins, well, we're gonna stop and see the Ruins, Baby!
Only a few minutes to ponder the site.
There's a big freakin' Walmart across the street from this site. Irony is in the air, but I'm not sure what to say.
Well, the brevet so far has been sweet--but its still September and still hot. I'm sure its at least 105 or hotter. For Steve and I--the ride starts to become a challenge of survival!
Okay, you guys know me--so I won't be shy... On SR87, for the next 24 miles--The Runs begin. I'm doing okay--then suddenly I feel that I'm going to shit my shorts. I need to get off the bike and find some bushes. I need to find bushes that will hide my very lound bike shorts--the bright blue yellow and orange shorts you can see from five miles away--and I need to find it fast. I let Steve know I'm pulling over--I'll catch up.
Paul will forgive me I'm sure, but I had to use my brevet map for TP. I was sure not to use my que sheet, just in case I got left far behind--but I'm back in the saddle, feeling good, and crankin' to get back with the group. They're up ahead; Susan has a flat. Steve and I help out and just as we're getting ready to roll--that feeling comes over me. "You guys go on, I'll catch up."
I catch up but I'm weak--I can bearly keep up. Steve is hanging back to see if I'm okay--Susan keeps going. Paul has had to break away because he promised the wife he'd be home by a certain time. I tell Steve to at least wait for me at the turn off for the Hunt Hwy--because, Gentle Reader, I am in trouble. The Runs are taking their toll--I've had to stop five times. As I try to catch up with Steve, the thought of eating and drinking makes me dizzy.
Dazed and a little confused, I see Steve at SR87 and the Hunt Hwy--this is a good sign because I may have made a wrong turn or kept going straight had he not been there waiting for me...
I also feel better because now I suddenly know where I am--Steve and I had been on this road when we did our Marana-Scottsdale-Marana ride. Earlier in the day Steve had pointed out the road we took down from Casa Grande to SR87 to get to the Hunt Hwy. My head cleared a little.
Okay, we need water and food. I ask a young woman waiting at a light there at the intersection where the nearest gas station is (because we are at the edge of the middle of nowhere in the desert) and she points down the road two stop lights.
We're only off course two blocks, and lucky for us, the attendant at the gas station and food mart is friendly--and we ice up and drink water from the pop machines (always ice cold) and I start to recover... The Runs are not bugging me, but could at anytime. It would be difficult to find a place to go if I had to pull over now that we're back in civilization--or at the edge at least.
Its time to finish this brevet!
But there are other problems... Steve has got heat exhaustion, and says it will be difficult for him to keep going. He tells me I should keep going and finish, but I have to hurry because it will be getting dark--and I have a little over 20 miles to go. I don't have any lights. What we thought would be a 125 mile brevet was actually becoming a 140 mile brevet.
I would get to my car, and go back and pick up Steve--so I rolled out to beat the clock and beat the sunset.
All I can say is that I road at a steady pace, about 18 MPH, for the 14.9 miles to the next turn, which would be a home stretch to the controle at just about 5 miles. I think I road pretty good for a guy who'd had the runs--and as the sun was setting behind my back, all the refectors on my bike, and on my Camelbak were glowing bright--so that made me feel better--I could be seen by traffic. This gave me confidence that I could finish and not get busted by the cops for not having lights. Paul pulled up beside me in his van--I told him I was going to make it, but Steve was back a few miles. Paul would go check on him, and find him; now it was just up to me to finish. I can remember being disoriented a few times--slipping into the Funk--but I was close, so close!
Just as the sun set, mes amis, I rolled into the parking lot of Albertson's--but not before making a very difficult and dangerous left turn into the controle from the busy street I was on. Traffic was heavy and there was only one little gap--so I went--made it!
Epiloge to the Brevet
Holy shit! That was tough...
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