What a fitting ride for April Fool's. All weekend, the forecast called for strong winds on Sunday, but like a lot of cyclists in Indianapolis, I woke up yesterday and breathed a sigh of relief because the winds were calm. I called up my friend Tracy and said "it's a go." However, by our 10 a.m. start time, the winds--at least out in the boonies--had already started to pick up. I can deal with the wind, but after a certain point--say over 20 mph, it makes me lose the will to live.
In any event, there was a big crowd and given the sun and warmth, everyone seemed eager to ride. Somehow or another, Tracy and I ended up being two of the first riders out. No big deal, except that we spent the first few minutes holding on for dear life and letting the members of the "fast pack" pass us, including my ex-boyfriend whom I hadn't seen since last October (but that's a whole other story).
Anyway, after about 20 riders flew by, we found ourselves pulling the second big pack. Thankfully, we weren't heading into the wind at that point and it felt pretty darn good to be cruising along with 30 or so people following behind. After about 7 miles of that, we turned a corner and let another couple of guys take the lead, one of whom complimented us on a "good pull." From there, Tracy and I fell off the back of the main group, deciding to take it a little easier, and we essentially rode into the SAGat a relaxed, but strong, pace.
By the SAG, I think we all had a pretty good sense that the wind had picked up even more. Some people were opting to take a shorter route, but we were determined to stick to our original plan to do the "long" route. Nevetheless, I suggested to Tracy that we tag alone with a group of guys that are all steady, strong riders since I knew that we could never make it alone. They paced us through a 10-mile loop from there that took us back to the SAG. We hit some strong cross and headwinds during the loop and took advantage of the SAG to refuel a bit more.
From there, a couple of groups came together to head south. I was second from the front behind my friend Don, who proved to be a godsend. The headwind was bad, but we plowed through it pretty well for the next 9 miles or so. Then we turned into the west into some brutal crosswinds. At mile 42 I remember looking down at my odometer and thinking "just 6 more miles to go." Then I went up a short hill and literally felt the last drop in my gas tank before it emptied. My legs were toast. At that point, I fell off the main group a bit, and Don was kind enough to slow down and pull me in. Then Tracy fell off too and the two of, with Don's infinite patience, crawled in.
By the time I reached my car, I was on my middle ring and my 25 cog. It was rather sad, but in my defense, there were reported gusts of 37 mph, with sustained winds in excess of 20 mph. It wasn't pretty, but I did it--with a little help from my friends. I am knackered today, however.



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