NoNo
10-21-2008, 05:34 AM
Sorry for the length, but I need to vent with people that would understand what a poorly organized ride is like. Last week my brother said he was signing up for a 50mi ride with his friend. So I decide to go along, too. It was for the Lance Armstrong Foundation and near an area where we've done rides for the MS Society, so I knew it wouldn't be too hilly. I should have known there would be problems when the night before they sent an email out saying there were route changes:rolleyes:
Showed up at 7:30. It was 35º out:( Next bad sign: in the registration materials was a slip of paper explaining that some of the markers had been blacked out and to not necessarilly follow every "TM" marking as it might not get you back to the school. Um, ok. "Push off" was at 8. I guess that would have been the teenager saying "You can go now". I don't know, I didn't really hear her, but the small group started moving.
It was cold. The wind was steady 10-15mph, with bigger gusts. I was layered up, but my legs didn't feel good right from the start. My brother was ahead of me in a flash, so I resigned myself to another 50mi by my lonesome. Eventually I found a group that was riding at a pace I liked and asked if I could join them. They happilly agreed, and I was glad to have some company. At the 11mi mark, one of the men in their group was circling at an intersection to wait up for us. At about 1mph, he tipped over and snapped his thumb, with quite a bit of blood gushing (sorry).:eek: I stopped and told them to look on the route sheet for the emergency number (it was their first organized ride). We called and a teenager answered and in a not-very-reassuring manner said he'd call 911. That's when I learned the entire ride was a high school class project. Suddenly the lack of food at sign-in, the route sheet with no mile markers, and the potential for not finding my way back made much more sense.
I hung around with them until a few started riding again. I knew I'd be WAY behind my brother now, so I texted him what the deal was. At an intersection we waited up for the woman that stayed to wait for the ambulance, and agreed that we were dead last in the 50mi group, so we'd just enjoy the ride and go at our own pace. That's when the fun began. The directions were horrible! The markings on the road were barely noticeable, and occassionally pointed in two different directions. There was a lot of stopping to try to decipher the directions and match it up to the map. At one point we saw one of the blacked out markers. What did it mean? We decided to continue straight and found ourselves on a limited-access highway. Oops, that can't be right:rolleyes: Several miles back to the marker, we followed it anyway, and discovered that it was correct. I guess the kids had spray-painted the road, but the town came and blacked out anything on state roads:mad: Again and again we got lost, often going several miles before we realized our mistake. The sheet said there should be a rest stop (the only one for the 50mi ride) around halfway. We never saw one until near mile 30, and they hadn't seen any other bikers yet. Not good. I checked my phone and saw that my brother had fallen, was frustrated with the poor directions, and was back at the school already. We pushed on.
Finally, I recognized where I was, but knew it was still several miles to the end. My legs hurt. All I'd had to eat was 3 granola bars and a hand full of trail mix from someone in the group. Once again, we couldn't figure out the directions, so we picked a direction and went. Uphill. At least a mile in we realize it's the wrong way. My spirit is broken, and I wished them well, but said I'd be calling my brother. Went back down the hill and said farewell. Bro came and we agreed that it was the worst ride we've ever done. However, even without finishing, I still did 50 miles, and I held out longer than he did. That's what's really important:p Oh, and I followed that up with a river clean up yesterday. Another day of hiking around in the cold, slopping through muck and poison ivy, picking up the junk people toss into the river. I slept very well last night;)
Showed up at 7:30. It was 35º out:( Next bad sign: in the registration materials was a slip of paper explaining that some of the markers had been blacked out and to not necessarilly follow every "TM" marking as it might not get you back to the school. Um, ok. "Push off" was at 8. I guess that would have been the teenager saying "You can go now". I don't know, I didn't really hear her, but the small group started moving.
It was cold. The wind was steady 10-15mph, with bigger gusts. I was layered up, but my legs didn't feel good right from the start. My brother was ahead of me in a flash, so I resigned myself to another 50mi by my lonesome. Eventually I found a group that was riding at a pace I liked and asked if I could join them. They happilly agreed, and I was glad to have some company. At the 11mi mark, one of the men in their group was circling at an intersection to wait up for us. At about 1mph, he tipped over and snapped his thumb, with quite a bit of blood gushing (sorry).:eek: I stopped and told them to look on the route sheet for the emergency number (it was their first organized ride). We called and a teenager answered and in a not-very-reassuring manner said he'd call 911. That's when I learned the entire ride was a high school class project. Suddenly the lack of food at sign-in, the route sheet with no mile markers, and the potential for not finding my way back made much more sense.
I hung around with them until a few started riding again. I knew I'd be WAY behind my brother now, so I texted him what the deal was. At an intersection we waited up for the woman that stayed to wait for the ambulance, and agreed that we were dead last in the 50mi group, so we'd just enjoy the ride and go at our own pace. That's when the fun began. The directions were horrible! The markings on the road were barely noticeable, and occassionally pointed in two different directions. There was a lot of stopping to try to decipher the directions and match it up to the map. At one point we saw one of the blacked out markers. What did it mean? We decided to continue straight and found ourselves on a limited-access highway. Oops, that can't be right:rolleyes: Several miles back to the marker, we followed it anyway, and discovered that it was correct. I guess the kids had spray-painted the road, but the town came and blacked out anything on state roads:mad: Again and again we got lost, often going several miles before we realized our mistake. The sheet said there should be a rest stop (the only one for the 50mi ride) around halfway. We never saw one until near mile 30, and they hadn't seen any other bikers yet. Not good. I checked my phone and saw that my brother had fallen, was frustrated with the poor directions, and was back at the school already. We pushed on.
Finally, I recognized where I was, but knew it was still several miles to the end. My legs hurt. All I'd had to eat was 3 granola bars and a hand full of trail mix from someone in the group. Once again, we couldn't figure out the directions, so we picked a direction and went. Uphill. At least a mile in we realize it's the wrong way. My spirit is broken, and I wished them well, but said I'd be calling my brother. Went back down the hill and said farewell. Bro came and we agreed that it was the worst ride we've ever done. However, even without finishing, I still did 50 miles, and I held out longer than he did. That's what's really important:p Oh, and I followed that up with a river clean up yesterday. Another day of hiking around in the cold, slopping through muck and poison ivy, picking up the junk people toss into the river. I slept very well last night;)