that may or may not have gone on the Traditional Canada Ride.
In celebration of this great Nation, a large group rolled out of Smith and Company bound for Apex. The bunch flowed onto the Green Mountain Bridge in fine humour and under the firm control of the F-Troop. In keeping with the celebratory tone of the day, Leahy et al kept the pace at a very civil and conversational pace?for approximately 1.5 km before the shenanigans started. The Dutch can be blamed (for a lot of things) for picking up the pace. Van Kooy lured Waterman into what turned out to be a ?requests for expressions of interest? from the bunch. The upstart pair put themselves 100m up the road with an ?I dare you? disregard for the occasion.
Sharing the same genetic compulsion to chase as a greyhound, Dan ?Now that I?ve smashed you..I?m going home? MacDonald was the first to respond. Unfortunately I was sitting with Dan and was swept up in his vortex and was followed by G. Mitchell. This accidental tactic ultimately worked to my advantage. As a man of mass, my aim is to stay near the pointy end until the incline exceeds my climbing tolerance (between 2% and 3%) at which point I begin my backward migration through the ranks.
The tactical genius Van Kooy proceeded to predict with almost perfect accuracy that Walker, Cutlar and Hefferin and his current wife (more to follow) would bridge up. His only failed prediction was the notable lack of effort from B. Bourke, who was conspicuously absent at the coal face. The selection left Canada with 4, Australia with 3 (and sadly missing John F) and the Dutch 2 (Giving Kerry honourary status).
Important contextual snippet of conversation overheard at this point between Kerry and Art. Kerry: ?Let?s ride together today Aart?? Aart: ?Sure?. (relates to current wife status and later developments on the road.)
The lead bunch generally rode at a civilized pace, interspersed with moments of Dan.. After the hayfields Dan and Lee lifted the pace, eliciting no response from the group. Lee, ultimately separated from Dan, but was only sighted briefly once more before the top.
With the leaders out of sight and out of mind, I was forced to listen to a comparison of heart rates, some barely above resting as mine nudged ever closer to threshold. This psychological gamesmanship worked, and firmed my resolve to get dropped at the big climb.
Following the first turn above the guest ranch, those less corpulent and more aerobically endowed made their way swiftly to the front of the bus. With Walker nowhere to be found, I took the responsibility to bring up the rear in case any of the group needed assistance. It appeared that those expected to excel did so. Having been gapped by a minute, I fell into my own thoughts, not many of them positive.
I was surprised to come across a surprisingly fresh looking Pat Buchanan, just by the gravel pit. This rare sighting of the esteemed Scott, in the rarified air of the high alpine, flicked a switch in my conspiracy theorist mind?Given Dan?s apparent disappearance and Pat?s sudden incarnation as a climbing god?.it sparked the question?Did Pat drive his car up the road, leave it for Dan then ride the last couple of Kms himself?
As the climb ground to it?s inevitable peak, I was able to ride back to Guy, who having suffered a near death mountain biking accident a month ago, was short in miles in his legs and air in his lungs.
While most stopped at the top of the hill just past the cattle guard, Cutjar, Hefferin and Waterman, in an emphatic display, pushed on to the Old Gunbarrel to complete their climb.
As the descent began it was obvious that a number of riders from the following group had decided that this was indeed a bike ride and not a bridge tournament. There were some exceptional efforts from Milt, B.Bourke (finally) and G. Denton. For the record Gary rode on his wife?s triple, leaving me quaking at the possibilities if he decides to ride his big boy bike next time. My apologies for not recording other climbers in more detail, my attention was overtaken by speed and cold.
After a regroup at the guest ranch civility was once again the victim as ?Surgio? Bourke began to play with the rhythm of the group. Wild attacks and surging left those of us who had been looking for a pleasant coast in to town disappointed.
It was during this rapid descent that Kerry?s commitment to her husband suffered under her aspirations as a sprinter (see earlier conversation). When it was noticed that Aart had suddenly been dropped from the group for unknown reasons, Kerry?s only response was to put the hammer down and bully Guy in the battle for second wheel. Stunned at the cold hearted display, the group took some time to reorganize.
In the lower reaches there was some confusion about which sprint would be the finish, so no point were awarded.
A large group re-convened at Smith and Co to recount the gory and the glory with the truth never a threat to ruin a good story.
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