YTD – 2815
MTD – 142
The long weekend was looking like a no-go for riding for me…then my loving Mother called and asked if I wanted her to watch the children so I could ride…uh yeah.
I thought little of the sprinkling rain as I drove out. I don’t mind a little rain and when in my situation you take what you can get. On a side note – I didn’t even have my own bike. I popped my third or forth spoke in about three weeks on my Thursday afternoon commute home and took the wheel in to OYLC for complete a re-lacing. This left me “stranded” without a bike since my car was at work. Fortunately my friend and cycling benefactor Tim loaned me the RB-1 I previously rode and fell in love with bike riding on. Hilarity ensued when I recalled it doesn’t exactly fit me right. Oh well…it got it done – and with style I may add.
So it came time to set out around 11. There was a steady sprinkle still going. By the time I meander through the neighborhoods to US 42 it was a full rain. I rode 7-8 miles in that and the rain let off for a bit. As I dropped into Westport it came back. It was the first cycle of what I termed “rolling rain”. Just like rolling hills it would come on and then back off. It would be about 15 minutes on and 5-10 off. A few times I felt what may have been a slight bit of hail. I can only imagine some of the conversations in the cars that passed me in full downpour. I wasn’t dressed poorly per se but far from in a rain suit. I stayed wet the entire ride and the worst part really is the shoes. I hate to feel water sloshing back and forth in my shoes. I don’t really have an technical rain gear anyway.
The route itself was a ‘beaut. I planned it out a few weeks ago and it encompassed several roads I have used heavily in my rides out of the folks house. In my head I had it as a circumnavigation of Oldham County. The idea was to get as close to the edge of the county without going over. Here is the route:
The middle section was the only portion I wasn’t familiar with. Poor planning with my cue sheet left it quite soaked and I had to struggle with it and treat it like the “precious” to get through to Crestwood where I could navigate back home. I stopped in LaGrange at the halfway point and slogged into the local Subway for food, water, and sports drink. They probably though it was odd I chose to eat out side on a curb instead of stinking it up on the inside. I finally outpaced the rain in LaGrange and I did not see any more of it. Coming out on Hwy. 53 some redneck lady yelled at me for no apparent reason – they sure didn’t slow down or anything. Hwy 53 was the worst stretch I encountered but it was only a few miles before I turned off back to farm roads and low traffic.
I had to take two navigational hunches based on the disintegrating integrity of my cue sheet. Both turned out to be correct and once I had to resort to stopping to review a flyer on a “for sale” reality sign to confirm what road I was on. Why do the never want to give those names on street signs? I came into Crestwood and noticed I was making good time – I was up over 18mph with only 12 miles to go. Hwy 329 make you climb a few times but once you pass the quarry the run to the old Boy Scout camp is made for hauling. My legs still felt good as I began to climb back out via Lock Lane and Mayo Lane to the river. The end of Mayo lane has as stout of a climb as you could ask for especially at the tail end of an effort. I chased that with the ascent of 1793 to land back at my folks house – tired but happy.
In many ways I felt triumphant and proud of my effort. The first 30 miles in the rain would have turned many people back. I willed my way through it hoping that end would justify the means. I can tell you that it did…for sure.
