Subscribe in a reader

Thursday, May 25, 2006

It's been an interesting week.

Rode the Sangamon River Ride on Sunday. Well-attended, if not well publicized (of course I brought good weather, and though the winds were peppy they were behind you for the last part of the official ride and they'd shifted to North for the ride back to Champaign.
It's still a "ride not put on by riders," with lemonade instead of Gatorade and the first rest stop for the sixteen mile route happening at... yea, the 16 mile point, hey, you've only got a couple miles to go. Maybe it's just me, butif 16 miles is a reasonably long way for you, then I would think there ought to be a rest stop along the way, not right before the lunch stop. They mainly market to the longer distance folks, though.
The scenery is awesome and I saw those sag vehicles appropriately and the rest stops were well stocked this year (though I wasn't that close to the end), and the riders are nifty keeno-cool. And since I rode out to the PCC meeting that night, I got in 101 miles, and was reminded why I LOVE the red bike. It's just comfy!

Monday was memorable. The precious fleabag had made a pretty major turn for the worse over the weekend... and Mon mornign he'd not rebounded. Final vet appt. 11:30. Then Mon. night ride... our group merges with the medium group (we went a shorter route) and then we see that ominous visage in the distance of a clump of riders, stopped, and a car, stopped...we get closer...rider down, and out. Wheels had touched, rear rider crashed. Our ride leader is a doc, and the next person to stop was an ER nurse on her way home... they'd done a "wheel touch" crash (first car had stopped to help). Broken helmet pieces on the road... broken bones, lots of booboos but looks like it is THINGS THAT WILL HEAL. Miss Jones could stand, however, an extended period of not seeing living things curled up and lying still so prithee please, be careful, it's just a selfish wish of mine.

While riding a Century sometime in the mid/late 80s I wiped out pretty badly at about the 15 mile point. My shorts were ripped to shreds; my right arm, shoulder, thigh and buttock bleeding profusely. I looked at the course map and saw a rest stop marked at the 20 mile point, so I used my precious water to wash my wounds, limped another five miles and.... no rest stop.

This is in Texas in the summer and it was very hot, and I had used most of my water to rinse my wounds. I was very thirsty and hot and in pain but pushed on to find the next rest stop -- finally at the 25 mile point. By that time I was feeling pretty good, though. I restocked on fluids, probably ate a banana or orange offered by the cute girls from whatever baptist church sponsored the stop, and finished the Century.
Post a Comment

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?