Looking at the calendar a week out, the only days I had options on for meeting the challenge of riding to Boston once a month until CX season starts were Monday and Tuesday. Monday seemed the better choice. Seemed it at the end of last week. Mostly because the wind should have been pretty calm to start the day and Tuesday looked to just be f'n windy all day.
The plan was to ride up and have coffee with Nick (lunch just makes you fat™) in Cambridge, then swing over and finally try the Barrington Roaster's coffee over in Fox Point.
Team mate Dean agreed to join me. Dean's a wicked cool crazy amazing guy. Professor of Sculpture at RISD, and not a shabby bike rider. He's headed up to Battenkill because that's home turf, and he had the day to spend on the bike and figured why not.
I was headed up to battle the wind regardless of company. Dean tagged along well prepared (couple sandwiches, blocks, bars, money, tubes, tires) he was rolling on a sweet painted 'Nago with Campy, with some Ultremo DD rubber. And he's not terribly short. A passable draft.
All good things.
One thing in the back of my mind leading up to it was the fact that I had ridden the bike every day since the 16th. All with the trailer, sometimes full of rocks, but usually not empty, groceries some days, stuff others, rocks, and then there was the Velosprints on the 19th, Smackdown on Wed. Saturday AM I was late, so I blitzed it to work. Worked both Sat and Sun at the shop. Hit the store Sun AM and loaded the trailer up, for some reason I didn't want to have an easy ride home.
Monday dawned, not too bad. Calm winds, what little breeze was from the south, temps were in the 40s. Passable.
I got everyone out the door, sorted out my shit, got dressed, made three ham egg and cheese sandwiches on english muffins, brewed a couple french press pots of coffee. Waterbottles were coffee bottles today. Yeah. Coffee. In the bottles. And I'm stopping at two coffee shops? Yeah whatever. Coffee in the bottles. Just a day at work (pretending to be pro - right?).
Grabbed a stick of Margarita blocks for emergency backup and a small cliff bar, couple tubes, camera, phone, cash... strapped seat bag on the Blue, put some air in the Durano Plus tires, and headed out a few minutes late.
Planned to meet Dean at 8am at Benz Motors on the East side of the Henderson bridge. I got there at 8:03 according to the bike computer. Actually 7:03 is what it said. Remember that. Will be important later.
So we rolled out. Route plan was to be a combination of the first two. Getting to Blue Hills was going to be Feb version, from Blue Hills on, Jan version.
Heading to Blue hills we made our way up to 152, then Brown, Cross, Tremont, Smith, Slater, Harvey, John Scott/Eddy, then a quick jog over to the Myles Standish Biz park finally turning left onto Bay Road just at 495.
If you look at the map you'll notice that the run in to Bay is sort of not going North. We had a light but strengthening tailwind when we headed out on Tremont. By the time we made the turn on Bay, BOOM, there was the headwind.
Awesome. I basically put my nose to the wheel and pushed it. To that point it was almost too warm, the sun was out and we had a tail wind. I felt over dressed. But turning north and pushing the pace into the wind was work.
We plugged along. I lead most of the way, Dean would shoulder the wind now and again, but I knew where we were going and I did the bulk of the pace making into Boston.
We hit 138, then up to River, over to Dot Ave and north... into the wind.
From there Columbia/Mass Ave all the way through Cambridge (fucking confusing there in the middle WTF) and up to the Hi-Rise Bakery for a cookie and coffee with Nick. The riding through the city wasn't wicked fast but it wasn't terrible. Most of the drivers were reasonably patient and we were pretty damn patient with everyone around us, no sense getting worked up that far from home. And yes, 15 miles from Blue Hills to Hi-Rise did take just about an hour. I'm sure there is a faster way than we went, maybe a more direct route but this one worked. I didn't get lost getting there. Was easy enough. Not getting lost is a good thing.
A few phone calls were made, but no one seemed able to make it to our Second destination. Barrington Roasters over there on Congress. Why? Why not. I have heard rumors that the coffee there was pretty good, also rumors that a cute tiny russian worked there too. When we headed over there it was in hopes that JLS and Doolz would be able to join us for a coffee. But nope, just us. No one else.
The espresso we had there was worth the slog through the city to get there. Again we probably took a less than optimal route to get there but w/o local guidance we just headed back Mass ave, to Commonwealth and around past South Street Station and over. It worked.
Coffee drunk, photos taken, we headed south. Did a bit of CX action there with the stairs to get over to the Path across from the Post Office but it dumps us right there at the top of Dot and we set sail. Played hopscotch with the cars and motored.
Most of the day I was doing pretty good at remembering that my clock on the bike computer (old fashioned one, HRM, speed, and stuff) was an hour behind (haven't changed it yet). But for some reason Eating that last sandwich along the path there I must have forgotten. And figure we'd get back nice and early and it would be great.
Stupid.
We head south. Make it over but I screwed up and instead of getting on 138 I get on Brush Hill Road. It starts looking strange. Shit.
We made it 1.5 miles down before I said, lets turn around. Dean was cool with that too, who knows if the roads connect if we go left. So we added 5k to the ride there. And then I looked at the clock and figured, shit we can swing through FireFly, Dean needed water, I needed to empty my bladder, they were just a mile or so off of 138 (yeah I know, I should have just stayed on Brush Hill - except we missed the brush hill road and were on the divided parkway thing past brush hill). Dean being a sculptor, well I though he might enjoy the shop. And I know, bad form to drop in un-announced but heck, why not. I did need to pee.
We swing through, say hey and head home. Less than 30 min there. Quick. But. Just as we're getting to Blue Hills and starting to roll towards the 93 overpass, I look at the clock and realize, Fuck, double fuck, it isn't 2pm, it is 3pm. Shit.
But we have a tailwind. mostly.
Unfortunately the wind started to swing a bit more west from Northwest. So rather than full on tail wind, it was slightly ear holing me. Better than a headwind.
And we motored.
Miles were piling up, we passed a century mark somewhere. We were at 84 miles at Firefly IIRC. Dean started pulling a bit more frequently once we got through Canton and Sharon. Still we worked together pretty well. But I was starting to feel the day and the lack of time off and the added stuff building up.
We hit the 495 overpass and i was relieved but at the same time I knew what we were about to face.
Turning the corner there, we had the full force of the wind in our teeth. It really hurt. Dean was awesome, his legs were still fresh enough to give me a draft for a good portion of it. I sucked down the Blocks, finished the last of the coffee and we hit even more wind on Eddy/John Scott. Ouch. Literally I felt like pulling over and curling up in the sun, on the bike and taking a nap.
Dean was pretty awesome. I felt bad that I had exposed a weakness, but then it was pointed out that I did the majority of the pace making into the wind on the way up. Cranking through. Harvey was a relief. The wind was finally somewhere other than in our teeth. We made it up to Tremont, I got a call that it was observation night at Ballet (I wasn't going to make it, damnit). Dean had a bite of sandwich, I busted out emergency Peanut Butter Cliff Rocks (they are terrible but magically seemed to help). And we hit Tremont into the wind. Wasn't terrible. My legs were sort of coming around. And then we got over to the Henderson. Finally. Dean peeled off and headed home (into the wind all the way home) and I set sail south.
I started feeling pretty good. The first hill sucked but then I started feeling okay. The next hill, not so bad. And up at the top I was cranking 25+ down into Riverside. The wind, pushing me probably had a big part of me feeling not so sucky.
It wasn't too bad. Ate a bit of food. got some sleep, slept well. Work up and headed to work, with the trailer, into that same f'n wind. But this morning it wasn't 40. It was 24. Wind chill is noticeable. But Winterbeard meant I was not cold.
Not nearly enough pictures were taken. Winter gloves and high winds and traffic were not conducive to panda shots. My arms/shoulders are a bit tired but the rest of me is good. If a bit tired.
Three minutes shy of a full 8 hours of pedaling. I'm always amazed at how much stopped time there is on these long rides.
None the less - it was a long ride. Pushed my body. Found a limit, pushed through that limit with some help from a great friend. I like these long rides but am thinking maybe I need to change it up. Maybe it is time to chart out some crazy ride w/o stops and traffic and stuff. Or not. I've got a bit of time to figure that all out.
Intense ride. We'll see if my legs can bounce back for Wed Smackdown. Maybe I need to do a rain dance so the ride is cancelled and I can get out of it with dignity.
Photos:
and that's about it - terrible report I know. it is what it is. The ride was insane. Stupidly insane. But fucking as awesome as it was stupid.
Winter beard is not destined to be around much longer. So that's sort of a self documentation (while trying to capture tiny russian in the background-unsuccessfully I fear).
Deano might have data for the ride, but I don't. If you are looking for it on Strava, it won't be there. No data so the ride never happened.
Heddwch™
G
Oh and I've probably eaten half of this box by now:
Literally, half of of those pastries are in my belly. All post ride.
1 comment:
Crane St- Pine St- Plain St is more pleasant (and sheltered) than riding through the industrial park. Maybe even shorter too. Just FYI.
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