Jonathan saves the day

After almost three weeks of cold, last Saturday arrived with amenable conditions for a team ride. Temperatures were in the high 40s, winds were light and variable, skies were overcast. Brad, our ride coordinator and Team Vice President, planned the ride for the warmest three hours of the day. We started assembling in the shop parking lot around 11:30 and rode out by noon.

The plan for the day was an endurance pace on flat to rolling hills for the first hour, then an hour of endurance mixed with tempo (in Brad’s words, halfway between easy endurance, and god-awful threshold) over a hillier route, then another hour of endurance as we rode back the shop. Most of this plan went well.

We rode out Del Rio in a double paceline, talking and taking things easy. A quick turn onto the broken pavement of Old Natchez Trace broke the formation up as everyone worked to avoid the worst of the potholes. After the short gravel section on Temple, we regrouped and headed towards the Natchez Trace Parkway. Some of the faster guys pushed the pace a bit on the first climb coming up from Hwy 100, but most of us were still staying together this early in the ride.

Brad coaxed me into keeping the chain in the big chainring up the climbs to work on leg strength, which I did for the next few miles. Our goal for this ride was mostly endurance paced riding, and I knew that Brad, Les, and a few others with a good sense of discipline would stick to that game plan regardless of what the speedsters chose to do. I tried to do a little of both. Stick with the front group as much as possible while not letting my heart rate and wattage blow up in any single effort.

At a certain point (after the big bridge over 96, but not to Hwy 46) I noticed that our group no longer contained Brad and Les. When we ride as a team we try to remain aware of where everyone is so we stay together as much as possible. I made the group aware that we were missing some riders, and Jay had us soft pedal for a few minutes as he dropped back to find them. When we regrouped a few miles later Brad ribbed us a little about the pace,  “I was following the workout, what were you guys doing?”

So much for discipline. Still, Mark reported that his max heart rate during the ride was only 169, so based on his threshold he was following the workout. He’s just got an aerobic engine that a lot of us don’t.

At the Hwy 46 exit, James Martinez and a few of the newer D-Squad members elected to head back towards Franklin, while the rest of us proceeded to the small town of Fly. The section of the Trace between Leiper’s Fork and Fly is mostly flat with a few long hills of an easy grade. Les (our team mentor/coach) discussed using this stretch to practice chase simulations later in the Spring. We have done this a few times in the past and chasing (or being chased, for that matter) is a great motivator for working at a higher pace, and working together smoothly with your group.

I sat back with Brad as we approached the turnoff to Hwy 7.  He was starting to run out of gas and I knew that we could ride a higher pace if we shared the load of cutting through the wind which had picked up considerably. We turned onto Hwy 7 together and headed downhill into a headwind that had roadside flags standing straight out from the poles. We pedaled down the hill at 200+ watts, barely breaking 18mph, where we would normally be closing in on 40mph on a clear day. A cold mist was also falling, heavy enough to dampen everything and make the temperature feel like it had dropped by ten or more degrees.

The rest of the team was waiting at the Fly General Store, and it was obvious that no one was excited about the 20 miles we still had to ride to get back to the shop. As we downed some food and liquids under the porch, it started to rain in earnest. You could see the reluctance on everyone’s face as conditions worsened. Jay said, “If it were ten degrees warmer I wouldn’t give it a second thought… but this is potentially dangerous.” No one wanted to go back out. It was then that Jonathan mentions, “I live only a mile or so down the road, and I have two pickup trucks that we could use to ferry ourselves back to the shop.” Instantly all but one of us hard, determined cyclists decided to take Jonathan’s offer. Mitch, now nicknamed “The Belgian Boult” decided to ride the remaining 15 miles home.

We rode the longest “mile or so” in the world down Leiper’s Creek Rd to Jonathan’s house in a worsening cold rain. There was no good position in the group to avoid it. Up front and you were first into the wind. Mid-pack and you got a face full of salty road spray that soaked you to the bone in seconds. Finally I saw Jonathan’s mailbox in the distance and moved to the front so no one would miss it. I was so glad to get off of the main road and headed for cover that I sprinted up the soft gravel driveway. Mountain bike skills can come in handy on the road

After dripping a gallon of muddy water on the kitchen floor, and trying in vain to warm up around the gas burners on the stove, we loaded up the trucks and headed back to Franklin. Wet, cold, defeated, but surviving to ride another day. Thanks Jonathan, we owe you one.

Oh yeah. The “Belgian Boult” got picked up as we headed through Leiper’s Fork. He’s officially 10 miles harder than any of us.