Does the irony of the stop sign in the background hit you too?
I’m delinquent in posting this.
Thirteen of us rolled out of Capital Hill under grey skies Sunday morning. Threatening skies, thirteen in number and riding while the righteous are donning their church garb. If one was looking for a sign, they wouldn’t be disappointed. By the time we were crossing the bridge to the Isle of Mercer we were sixteen strong. One of our fastest murderers brought a friend whom he referred to as a “fast guy.” The stage was set.
In a unique turn of events, Crusher launched a solo breakaway which dumbfounded the group so they let it escape. The big dogs knew they would dispatch him in due course. Two of our loyal clan had pinned on numbers and raced the day before so there were some stale legs amid the anxious riders this cool morning. The unusual circumstances led to a different kind of day as the pack split into several groups almost from the onset. Usually the pack splits only after a mile or two and then there are usually two groups that each work independently to keep the pace frantic around Mercer.
The lead group caught and passed Crusher without a word as the riders were marking each other with savvy race tactics, though this is billed as a friendly ride. Then a couple riders who had been spit off the back were working to keep any kind of rhythm as their bodies tried to recover. A second cluster of five or so caught Crusher and then scooped up the two stragglers. This new group gave chase with speeds ranging from twenty to twenty eight miles an hour. Evo managed to find himself taking a pull as the group hit the “big” hill and although he pulled over to the side to let others pass, he climbed well and was in great position when the group reassembled at the top of the climb.
The swooping curves on the east side of the isle are like a luge run when taken at twenty miles an hour or better and the group was pulling well above that. We caught Tom the Cheetah and were really moving as we hit the park that signaled the turn around.
Evo had been battling a cold so he kept it easy on the way back. I felt my lung capacity was down, but with the weight training I have been doing, I felt some strength and threw in a couple bursts, just for fun. My climb up the big hill was surprising. I hit it fast and I sprinted up it and I swear it seemed only half its usual height. Could this be a sign of things to come ?
The return to Capitol Hill was uneventful. I hung where I wanted and didn’t go into the red at all. Café’ with the mates was a treat as always.
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