I've been riding my bike as an adult for a little over ten years. I started slow and built my endurance, had some years with sparce miles, and recently taken to racing like a pig takes to mud. I've learned how to climb hills that would have caused me to walk. I've battled the wind on days I thought it would blow me over. I've felt me feet slosh in the water in the bottom of my shoes. I've lost five pounds on a ride because of sweat and I've had ice on my eye lashes. But I had never done a century.
I've had the opportunity to make this distance at various times. Every time Klucker and I did the MS150, he did a century on the first day. I either didn't feel I could or just plain didn't want to do it. I've had long base building rides on my training schedule that put a century within reach, but never pulled the trigger for whatever reason. I had offers at this year's MS ride, but decided it wasn't the right time. Yesterday, however, was the right time.
Earlier this summer, I shared pieces of my bucket list--things I wanted to do before I died. And I committed to actively working to accomplish those things as well. I checked one off on July 4; October 10 another one got a line through it.
I didn't even think about the date when Steph and I decided to do the Ride the Rivers Century: 10/10/10--a perfect 10 day. And my first century lived up to that in every way. When we talked about riding a century, Steph graciously agreed to accompany me on the journey, to be my mental support when the miles felt heavy on my legs and mind. I chose Ride the Rivers for a couple of reasons. First, I loved the route. Starting out in St. Charles, over the Missouri, down to the RFT, over to Illinois before two ferry crossings back to our start. The scenery would be amazing. Second, October is my favorite time of year. And the timing was perfect, I couldn't think of a better way to start my birthday week.
I got to Steph's house and moved my bike to her car and we took off. She was a brave woman--she was starting this jaunt with no coffee! Our drive was filled with our normal chatter, including the idea that both of us were tired and maybe not completely into this idea. I left my car keys in my pocket just in case we decided to cut the ride short and head back to her house. It was a cool 55 degrees and we put the wheels on our bikes and headed to registration. MaryK greeted us and gave us our wrist bands and ferry ticket. We also got great socks for pre-registering. A quick hollar to Mr. Weiss and the Big Shark boys and we were pedaling.
Our first river crossing was on the 364 bridge over the Missouri. The sun was still pretty fresh in the sky and the view was incredible. We headed towards Creve Coeur park because I needed a quick pit stop before we were off again. We headed to the "big climb" of the day, Marine. I was interested in seeing how I would fare against it because I recently switched my rear cog back to a 25. Posture, spin 'em and breathe were my mantra. Up and over with no problem. I had to laugh over the next ten miles or so because Marine was just the introduction to a small onslaught of less challenging but relentless hills. Along the way we began to catch other riders who had started earlier. We saw the Big Shark Special Ops crew on the side of the road with a flat and I wondered how long it would be before they overtook us.
The first rest stop for the event was at Forest Park and we decided to forgo it. The Team Rev ladies were out there and gave us a shout out as we rolled by. We continued due east until we hit the Riverfront Trail. This stretch brought back lots of memories for me. When I first started riding, we lived in the City and I was petrified of riding in traffic. I hit the trail almost daily back then, but have only ridden it once in the last six years. We passed more cyclists along the way and were at the Chain of Rocks in what seemed like a blink of the eye.
We utilized the Chain of Rocks rest stop for fluids and snacks. MaryK was there as well, serving as an awesome hostess. I also ran into a school board member from my former district. Our brief entertainment there was a toad that didn't want to leave a girl's bike. He jumped on her front tire and proceeded to crawl under the front fork. I think he was auditioning to be a new SRAM model! Some of the Rev girls were pulling in as we headed out. A brief hello and we were back at it.
The Chain of Rocks bridge took us across the mighty Mississippi, another breathtaking view. I was excited to learn as we crossed the subsequent canal bridge that metal tiles were place in a bike lane over the grates. I used to be so fearful when I rode it years ago. We hit Illinois soil and I told Steph that if we wanted to abandon now, my house would be the quicker option. We snaked our way through the road of Madison County before hitting the wonderful trail over there. My question about being caught by the Big Shark force was soon answered as the sailed past us. I jumped on a wheel and we hung for a few miles before I needed sit up. They were flying. As we fell off, we started riding with two guys, one of whom had just joined our Big Shark team. The four of us had a great conversation that passed time until we came up on part of the Big Shark group that had eased up. We chatted with them as they brought us the last half mile to lunch.
Our lunches were huge, we could have shared one . . . way too much food to eat and be able to ride another 46 miles. We ate and relaxed for a few minutes before setting out again. Steph M was the only Rev rider we saw at this stop, she had done a little solo time trial on the last few miles of the trail.
The next stretch of the ride took us along the Great River Road, past Grafton. For me, this was the toughest part of the ride. The wind would pick up in spurts, the road was heavily trafficed, and it seemed endless. I have heard others talk about the mental wall on a century and I hit mine there. At one point I remember thinking that we were too far from Steph's or my house to stop, I might as well push through. Steph and I took turns taking short pulls and working our way north. When I saw the "Welcome to Grafton" sign, I knew we were close to a ferry. We turned off the River Road and hit a paved trail. I had been in front and wanted a rest, as I went left, I realized that three guys had fallen in with us. I was trying to get back behind Steph, but another biker was coming towards us and I finally had to tell the guys they needed to let me back in. That should have been my first clue about these guys. My real first clue came as we hit a small hit and the guy in front wasn't ready to climb it and turned himself sideways on the center line so that I had to go to his right to pass and avoid him. We let them all pull around us and enjoyed the beauty of this section. The trail was surrounded by trees and had a good number of short hills and turns. We came down a short descent and onto a little bridge where two bikes were down and a mom was hugging her crying daughter telling her that she was ok. I wondered what happened but quickly realized when we turned a corner and saw two of those guys pulled off that they had knocked her down. ERRRRR!!!
The trail dumped out on the River Road and we headed a few minutes south to our first ferry crossing. The Belle of Calhoun would take us to Brussels, Illinois. The only other time I had ridden it, was on a big yellow school bus in the middle of February for a basketball game--that wasn't fun. We filed on after the cars and motorcycles and made our third river crossing of the day across the Mississippi.
Off the ferry and onto the roads of Calhoun County, Illinois. There was a gaggle of cyclists grouped together as we headed west towards the Missouri River. Cars approaching from behind started to string everyone out in a double or single file line along the two lanes road . . . everyone but the three guys from trail. These "gentlemen" were over the yellow line, ignoring the patient drivers behind them. It took them forever to move, only to pull back out there when the car passed. No wonder cyclists get a bad name. With the group strung out, I'd had enough of these guys and wanted to put them behind us for a while. I settled into my drops and picked up my cadence. About 30 "on your lefts" later I pulled past these guys, checked that Steph was on my wheel and kept going. I heard them comment about jumping our wheels as we went by, but picked it up so that wasn't an option for them. We turned a corner and I sat up, I'd proved my point. A few minutes later, they caught us. Heeding wise advice from Steph, we let them go. One of the string of cyclists they brought with them told us they we had severly bruised their male egos with our push and complimented us on strength.
We kept them all in sight as we approached what looked like a nice, mid-sized hill. Now Calhoun County is only about five miles wide between the rivers, but I think we climbed every hill they had to offer in that time. We'd climbed, flatten, and climb again. And just when I thought we were done, another popped up. Somewhere in there, Steph hit her wall for the day. Dehydration set in and she worked hard to ride through it. We finally reached the summit of the county and began our long ride down to the Missouri. Trailnet had put "caution" and "slow" across the road and I could see why...the descent abruptly ended at the water's edge. Thankfully there was a small restaurant there with a vending machine. Steph got us both a bottle of cold water that tasted wonderful.
Our second ferry arrived and across the Missouri we went. We would have about ten miles to finish when we hit the shore. Our final rest stop of the day was there, so we filled our bottles before heading out. We were a couple of minutes down the road when Gary and Bob H. from Big Shark passed us. I asked them if we could try to hold onto their wheels for a while and we fell in behind for the next eight miles. They stopped at two to go to wait on a friend and we continued to roll. My Garmin hit 100 even somewhere on Riverside Drive. I had done it, my first century. Cross this one off the list.
What's more important to me than completing the century, is the way I completed it. I enjoyed it, all of it. Even when it got tough for me on the Great River Road, I was enjoying the idea of what I was doing. A big part of my fun was my riding partner. Six hours and 100 miles is a long time on a bike. I know I would be making a call to Jeffrey, "Get a shovel" if I rode that long with Klucker. But riding with Steph is different. She knows when to talk, when to enjoy the silence. She knows when to push me and encourage me. Our conversations are never stale and dull; I think we could solve wars, crime, and poverty given enough time on a bike. I'm always grateful for her friendship and her company yesterday was a gift.
So it's time to revisit my list . . . what's next? Hhhhmmmm.
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