Jud's Ride Report for Fleche Team Runcible 4-6-07 to 4-7-07

[jud]

We were the unsinkable fleche team, "Team Runcible," as talented a team for a fleche ride as you could want. There was Nate Morgenstern, holder of the record time for the PA 200k; Chris Scherer, whose amazing ride through the snow and cold of last year's Princeton 200k was something to see; and the irrepressible Steve Sheetz, a classic rouleur, a powerhouse built for dieseling down the flats and barreling up and down the rollers. Then there was me, Jud, the captain of Team Runcible, that unsinkable fleche team.

Nothing was going to stop us. Why, other riders might only use the minimum 360 km (225 miles) for the 24-hour time. We added 33 miles to that. Hills? Bring them on. There were reports of bad weather ahead, but for us it was all engines, full steam ahead. We were Team Runcible and no iceberg was going to stop us.

This saga began in January, when I posted on the bulletin board about who wanted to ride the fleche. NJ Randonneurs has tried to hold the event in the past, but cancelled for lack of interest. This year we had four teams submit entry forms. I named myself captain of our team. I also picked the general route and the name of the team, Runcible, after the Runcible Spoon in Nyack, a restaurant beloved of cyclists in the region.

I wanted to ride through some of the hilly but scenic parts of Orange and Rockland counties in NY and also skirt the Delaware. With the help of Nate, Mordecai Silver and Tom Rosenbauer, I constructed a route that started in Lambertville, went north to Port Jervis with a few miles in PA, then west to Nyack and through Miontclair ending in Hightstown, where Laurent, our Regional Brevet Administrator, would be waiting. Piece of cake. Of course we'd get there on time. I even had a photo of the team planned for a point two miles from the finish.

Our ride began in Lambertville at 6 p.m. Friday and was to end Saturday at 6 p.m. at the Hightstown Diner. As the team gathered at Chris' house near Lambertville an hour before the start, we spoke about the forecast. The first hint of nervousness could be felt in the group. There was talk of temperatures in the mid-to-low 20s in the Port Jervis area that night. Nate had said that one team had scratched due to forecasts of cold and wet weather.

We rode down the 518 hill into Lambertville and saw Laurent waiting to check us in at the first controle in front of a deli on Main Street. Then off we went. I was immediately distracted by the sound of my front fender rubbing against my front tire. I kept adjusting it and it kept starting again. It began to annoy me. I would have this difficulty on and off the rest of the ride. No problem, I thought.

The first intermediate control, the Rite Aid on Route 46 in Belvidere, closed at 10 p.m. It was at mile 48, so we just needed to average more than 12 mph to make it. The first hour and a half were in daylight, then about 7:30 somewhere near Warren Glen, we switched on our lights. My new SON generator system with twin E6s on the front forks was working geat. Wow! I thought. This riding in the dark was a snap. In fact, my computer numbers later showed that our average speed did not even drop for the first hour of darkness.

I did notice that the bike felt heavier on hills. That was probably the seven-pound seat bag (I weighed it) I had. This extra weight would make a cumulative difference on hills after a while. But I brushed it off at the beginning.

Our pace felt fast to me, though probably not to the others. Again, looking at my heartrate and power numbers, I see that I spent the first six hours of the ride spending more than half my time in the tempo, sub threshold and super threshold zones (3-5). My goal on brevets is to spend about 25 percent in those zones and 75 percent in the recovery (zone 1) and aerobic (zone) areas. I was riding too hard to start, something that always catches up with me later. But this was Team Runcible, the superstars. I had to try to keep up, didn't I? I was calling myself the captain.

We made it to the Rite Aid by 9:15. It was already starting to feel cold. I put my glove liners on under my gloves. We decided not to stay long there but to go another 7-8 miles to the Family Restaurant in Portland, PA, which had been a controle at the PA 200k last week. We rode across the Delaware on the pedestrian footbridge, turned left and found the restaurant dark. Now what?

There was the Blue Spruce Tavern 5 miles away in Delaware Water Gap, PA. We'd try that. It was getting colder, probably at freezing or below. Nate was running out of water. We got to the tavern and it had shut its restaurant down. What to do? The only other place serving food in the area was the Minisink Bar on River Road about a mile away. We rode through town, took a right, went up a short hill and there it was: Your classic bar, set off in the woods a little out of town. Neon signs of beer companies in the windows, people playing pool and crowding a long wooden bar. More to the point, there were also tables with people eating food. We needed food.

The four of us in our brightly colored spandex outfits, which made us look like we'd escaped from a Marvel super hero comic, got the attention of everybody. The residents of Roswell, N.M. near Area 51 could not have been given a greater shock. "Where are you riding to?" people asked. We said we were riding 258 miles in 24 hours. "Why?" they asked. "Are you doing it for a charity?" No, we said, we really don't have a good reason why we're doing it. Our spouses think we're nuts. Nate said we wanted to see some rivers so we were riding along the Delaware and then along the Hudson in the same ride. I ordered a large pizza, half plain and half with pepperoni and two cheesesteaks, two pitchers of ginger ale and two pitchers of water. We consumed nearly all of it.

The next stretch down Old Mine Road took us through a desolate sectiion of the Delaware Water Gap National Forest. Now it was in the 20s and falling quickly. Our water bottles froze. Suddenly Steven and I heard a loud rustling directly overhead. It's an owl, Steve said. Whatever it was, it was huge. It was a gorgeous sky, crystal clear, plenty of stars. If it wasn't for the cold, this might almost be fun.

Then my lights started to flicker out on bumps. I had installed them myelf and apparently not secured the wires properly. Again and again I stopped to fix them. Each time, I had to take off the two layers of gloves and expose my fingers to the cold. My teammates stood around, nearly beside themselves with the cold. Just when I seemed to figure out what was wrong, Steve was stopped by a flat tire.

I had been feeling good when we left the bar and stayed that way for most of the stage to Port Jervis at mile 103. But in the last 10 miles the cold and the worries about my lights started to affect my mood. I dropped back from the group and came to the Dunkin Donuts a few minutes behind. It turned out that only the drive through was open. It was about 4:15 a.m. The inside area, the warm inside area, would not open until 5.

Desparate, Nate thought of going to the nearby Comfort Inn and ask if we could warm up in their lobby. The accomodating desk clerk agreed and we sat on the couch, half trying to sleep for a few minutes and half watching an old "Roseann" rerun. Reluctantly, after another 20 minutes or so, we set out for the deli in 10 miles where Nate could get some kosher food for Passover. He had somehow managed to eat pizza without the bread or the pepperoni. At least, the rest of the group started on their way. I was adjusting my rear bag and didn't see that they turned right out of the driveway. I turned left, thinking that was the way to go. It took me 15 minutes to straighten myself out and I had to retrace my steps up a hill. That was the first of many mental errors for me.

I finally figured out my mistake and was almost to the deli when I realized mental error No. 2. Nobody had signed my brevet card at the Dunkin Donuts and I had thrown out my receipt. We called Laurent on his cell phone and he reassured us that it would be all right. By now it was getting close to 6:30 a.m, more than halfway through our 24 hours, and we were at mile 113, which meant we had 145 more to do in about 11 and a half hours. No problem for Team Runcible, so we thought. We headed off to the next control at mile 140, the Corner Deli in Southfields, where we encountered the hilliest stretch so far.

Suddenly I heard a clattering noise. Nate had stopped to check on a turn and Chris had been looking at his cue sheet the moment Nate stopped. They collided hard. Nate's ankle was swollen and Chris' knee hurt, but they both soldiered on. We rolled into the deli in Southfields at 9:15 a.m. though, and time was starting to run out on the unsinkable fleche team. We knew we would get back on the road about 9:45. That left just a little more than eight hours to finish. We had 117 miles to ride, including the next 30 miles to the Runcible Spoon, the hilliest of the route. At that pace, we'd be doing a 200k in about eight hours and 30 minutes with no sleep, a fast time for a good rider that was well rested. Suddenly all those closed restaurants, mechanical problems and stops to get out of the cold were adding up.

Then my body shut down, or went into save mode. Looking back, I think it was partly due to a lack of sleep the past week due to work, over training the previous two weeks (a 200k each week after doing only one century the rest of the season). Part of it was pushing too hard the first 90 miles or so (though my teammates probably didn't feel pushed it was pushing for me). Most importantly though, my mind was suffering from the total lack of sleep. I had never stayed awake through the night on a bike ride before and it was playing tricks on my brain.

I got lost out of Port Jervis and I also forgot to have my card signed. That was nothing. I got lost twice in the 30 miles to the Spoon, including another nasty, needless uphill section that had to be retraced. My powermeter showed that on the stretch to Port Jervis, I was averaging 160 watts, a strong number for me on a century. On Satuday, I was reduced to 105 watts, which would be appropriate for a C-level club ride. I felt like my mind and body were in slow motion.

I split from the group again for good this time. At 12 noon, still seven miles from the Spoon, I called Nate. They had just arrived at the Spoon, but it was clear to everybody that they weren't all three reaching Hightstown, 91 miles away, in less than six hours, at the rate the group was moving. At least 3 had to finish to qualify. For me, finishing was now out of the question. I was shot.

Nate fortunately for him had designed the route to run past his house in another 23 miles. I planned to ride another 85 miles to my home in East Brunswick. Chris and Steve rode to Nate's house, took a train to Princeton and rode the eight miles to Hightstown. Nate called Laurent to let him know that Team Runcible, team of champions, the unsinkable fleche team, had dipped below the waves.

The story didn't end there, of course. My three teammates I'm sure had their own further adventures, as did I. For me, my speed and power output kept sinking and I kept getting better and better at sizing up who to ask for directions. I got lost a half dozen times and I think maybe once the cue sheet was at fault. My brain was nearly inoperable. Some people can ride all night and not let it affect them too much the next day. Not me.

I slogged slowly through northern NJ, past the controle at the deli in Montclair at mile 200 and onward. Now I had designed this part of the route, so there was no question of getting lost. But I was barely able to stay awake. At mile 220, past the time limit and far from the finish, it was time to call the wife and utter the seven words a randonneur dreads the most:

"Honey, would you please drive me home?"

As always when I have a bad experience on a brevet, I learned a tremendous amount about myself and my equipment. It will undoubtedly help me this summer on PBP. But most of all, I learned what a great group of guys I rode with and I'm not talking about riding ability. Everybody pitched in to help everyone else and Steve's good humor throughout was infectious.

Thanks, guys.

Jud, Captain, R.M.S. "Runcible," 4/8/07



[/i]

[bluegitane]

Judson, most beautiful report, many thanks for this.
100% pure Fleche stuff!