TrekTheKaty
06-28-2009, 05:09 PM
Bike Karma: After my Katy Trail ride on Saturday for coffee, I came to a couple at the trailhead who looked lost. Like everyone else, they knew how to get to this new trailhead by bike, but couldn’t figure out how to get there by car. I gave them directions and headed for the car. On the way home, there was a Trailnet/St. Louis Greenway event promoting another bike path. I did a u-turn and went back to let them know we need more signage for Mo Research Park Trail head and relayed the story. As we chatted she mentioned the Chain of Rock Birthday Bash the next day. Humpf, it was supposed to be cooler and I had been bugging DH to head over that way.
The Old Chain of Rock bridge is a part of the original Route 66. When it was closed to traffic and another bridge was built, Trailnet took over the bridge and now it is only open to bicycles and pedestrians (and the occasional classic car tour). Saturday was the 80th birthday bash.
I tell DH there is an organized ride with 22, 42 and 56 mile options. (He hates organized rides—“we can do that on our own!”) BUT there will be birthday cake, beer, blues and ice cream. He AGREES! “The water stops would be nice..........” WAH? It doesn’t start until 8:30, but it’s only supposed to be 85 degrees (that’s 10 degrees cooler than yesterday!)
We arrive at 8:00 with everyone else who hoped to get an early start—and there’s a long registration line. I bolt for the line while DH unloads. Thankfully, the line moves quickly and I get us in free with membership coupons. I head back to the car with the map and DH mounts up—“UM, can you unlock the car? I need my helmet, gloves, camelbak, water bottles?” I ask if he looked at the map—he rides off. The lady at the car next to me starts laughing and says, “I’m glad it’s not just me.” I stop to chat—heck, this may be my new riding partner.
I find DH at the bridge and we head out for 56 miles. The weather is gorgeous and we quickly catch a group. As we head up on the levee, I pass a few people and pick up a quicker-than-usual pace. I decided to go with it. When I glance back to look for DH, I find I’ve accumulated a line. Why are they following me? I can’t figure out why they don’t pass. We catch another group and cruise together for a long time. As we pull into the first rest stop, I get a text from a friend who I’ve been begging to go for a ride. She’s headed to the “pond tour” near my house and wants to know where I’m at? Are you kidding me? You snooze--you lose. I fill my camelbak with my 2 polar water bottles, then fill the water bottles (repeat). I shove a whole rice krispie treat into my mouth as DH pulls out—sorry Mom.
We head out with the road to ourselves. I remind myself that there was a time I wouldn’t be caught dead riding on the street, with no idea where I’m going. We acquire another group, and after a stoplight I find myself in the lead of a line again at a rather brisk pace. I’m proud of myself for a second and then realize I realize they think I know what I’m doing and where I’m going. I don’t like the pressure. A few riders pass and take the lead. PHEW!
As we pull into the first rest stop, I crash my bike into the bike rack while admiring what HAS to be the new Trek WSD 2.3—turquoise and the handlebar tape is still white. I glance around and quickly find the proud owner. NEW. BRAND NEW. And fast. I gush with compliments. My bike is officially old news--at least now I can change the handlebar tape.
We’re now on Illinois’ MCT paved bike paths. They are amazing. I pictured paths around parks, but they are literally transportation alleyways. We are in the shade of the trees with no cars and I’m feeling good. My drafting buddy from the levee is back and I tuck behind DH as the wind kicks up (ended up being 15 mph avg, 17 max).
When we pull into the third rest stop, my new drafting buddy says, “Thank you. I couldn’t have handled those winds without you guys.” I politely remind him I was on his wheel for quite some time before that. He watches us carefully and I make sure we have him as we head back out.
There hasn’t been food at the last two rest stops and I immediately regret not eating my Clif Bar at the last stop. I pull over, retrieve it and feel much better. Drafting buddy gets a cramp. I pass a trailside sign for Culver’s and I yell, “Culver’s--I’m out” and start to head off-road. I’m chastised , “GET BACK HERE.”
We cruise by the 42 mile turn off (that was tempting—DH looks back to see if I’m still there) and we find the last rest stop—a gas station. I stop to rest my feet. DH informs me as I sit down that I have bird doo on my helmet—a direct hit. I laugh and tell him that I thought I had a bee on my helmet, but maybe it was the bird. This amuses others at the rest stop.
About mile 46, I start to hurt (my longest ride this year was 48 at a much more leisurely pace). The fast pace has taken a toll and I’m getting hot spots on both feet (I knew I needed new shoes). I pull over to pour water on my head (Who knew? That’s so simple? Works like a charm! You guys are amazing!) and dig out some jelly beans. I drop back to a relaxed pace and realize I can cruise from here and make my time goal.
As we hit 7 to go, I cut DH loose. I can get it from here, but it’s going to be slow. He bolts like he’s been hit by a shock collar.
I roll by a Waffle House wafting out yummy smells and suddenly I know where I am—the bridge is up ahead. The girl’s head in front of me pops up and she looks around. I offer, “I could do Waffle House, or Hardee’s. I’m not really picky.” She smiles.
I’m "spent" by the time I reach the bridge but I picture DH standing at the end with ice cream. Turns out it was Pepsi, I had to get my own ice cream—but he’s already had a brat. NICE. I ditch my bike at the car just as the couple next to us rolls up. (I’m proud of myself—we did 56 in the time they did 42). Turns out she took a spill but was OK. No damage on the bike because, “she shielded it with her body.” Way to take one for the team!
It wasn’t just ice cream--but Ted Drewes (it’s a St. Louis thing) and there was a live band. Everyone should check this ride out—we had a lot of fun.
The Old Chain of Rock bridge is a part of the original Route 66. When it was closed to traffic and another bridge was built, Trailnet took over the bridge and now it is only open to bicycles and pedestrians (and the occasional classic car tour). Saturday was the 80th birthday bash.
I tell DH there is an organized ride with 22, 42 and 56 mile options. (He hates organized rides—“we can do that on our own!”) BUT there will be birthday cake, beer, blues and ice cream. He AGREES! “The water stops would be nice..........” WAH? It doesn’t start until 8:30, but it’s only supposed to be 85 degrees (that’s 10 degrees cooler than yesterday!)
We arrive at 8:00 with everyone else who hoped to get an early start—and there’s a long registration line. I bolt for the line while DH unloads. Thankfully, the line moves quickly and I get us in free with membership coupons. I head back to the car with the map and DH mounts up—“UM, can you unlock the car? I need my helmet, gloves, camelbak, water bottles?” I ask if he looked at the map—he rides off. The lady at the car next to me starts laughing and says, “I’m glad it’s not just me.” I stop to chat—heck, this may be my new riding partner.
I find DH at the bridge and we head out for 56 miles. The weather is gorgeous and we quickly catch a group. As we head up on the levee, I pass a few people and pick up a quicker-than-usual pace. I decided to go with it. When I glance back to look for DH, I find I’ve accumulated a line. Why are they following me? I can’t figure out why they don’t pass. We catch another group and cruise together for a long time. As we pull into the first rest stop, I get a text from a friend who I’ve been begging to go for a ride. She’s headed to the “pond tour” near my house and wants to know where I’m at? Are you kidding me? You snooze--you lose. I fill my camelbak with my 2 polar water bottles, then fill the water bottles (repeat). I shove a whole rice krispie treat into my mouth as DH pulls out—sorry Mom.
We head out with the road to ourselves. I remind myself that there was a time I wouldn’t be caught dead riding on the street, with no idea where I’m going. We acquire another group, and after a stoplight I find myself in the lead of a line again at a rather brisk pace. I’m proud of myself for a second and then realize I realize they think I know what I’m doing and where I’m going. I don’t like the pressure. A few riders pass and take the lead. PHEW!
As we pull into the first rest stop, I crash my bike into the bike rack while admiring what HAS to be the new Trek WSD 2.3—turquoise and the handlebar tape is still white. I glance around and quickly find the proud owner. NEW. BRAND NEW. And fast. I gush with compliments. My bike is officially old news--at least now I can change the handlebar tape.
We’re now on Illinois’ MCT paved bike paths. They are amazing. I pictured paths around parks, but they are literally transportation alleyways. We are in the shade of the trees with no cars and I’m feeling good. My drafting buddy from the levee is back and I tuck behind DH as the wind kicks up (ended up being 15 mph avg, 17 max).
When we pull into the third rest stop, my new drafting buddy says, “Thank you. I couldn’t have handled those winds without you guys.” I politely remind him I was on his wheel for quite some time before that. He watches us carefully and I make sure we have him as we head back out.
There hasn’t been food at the last two rest stops and I immediately regret not eating my Clif Bar at the last stop. I pull over, retrieve it and feel much better. Drafting buddy gets a cramp. I pass a trailside sign for Culver’s and I yell, “Culver’s--I’m out” and start to head off-road. I’m chastised , “GET BACK HERE.”
We cruise by the 42 mile turn off (that was tempting—DH looks back to see if I’m still there) and we find the last rest stop—a gas station. I stop to rest my feet. DH informs me as I sit down that I have bird doo on my helmet—a direct hit. I laugh and tell him that I thought I had a bee on my helmet, but maybe it was the bird. This amuses others at the rest stop.
About mile 46, I start to hurt (my longest ride this year was 48 at a much more leisurely pace). The fast pace has taken a toll and I’m getting hot spots on both feet (I knew I needed new shoes). I pull over to pour water on my head (Who knew? That’s so simple? Works like a charm! You guys are amazing!) and dig out some jelly beans. I drop back to a relaxed pace and realize I can cruise from here and make my time goal.
As we hit 7 to go, I cut DH loose. I can get it from here, but it’s going to be slow. He bolts like he’s been hit by a shock collar.
I roll by a Waffle House wafting out yummy smells and suddenly I know where I am—the bridge is up ahead. The girl’s head in front of me pops up and she looks around. I offer, “I could do Waffle House, or Hardee’s. I’m not really picky.” She smiles.
I’m "spent" by the time I reach the bridge but I picture DH standing at the end with ice cream. Turns out it was Pepsi, I had to get my own ice cream—but he’s already had a brat. NICE. I ditch my bike at the car just as the couple next to us rolls up. (I’m proud of myself—we did 56 in the time they did 42). Turns out she took a spill but was OK. No damage on the bike because, “she shielded it with her body.” Way to take one for the team!
It wasn’t just ice cream--but Ted Drewes (it’s a St. Louis thing) and there was a live band. Everyone should check this ride out—we had a lot of fun.