baby's first century

so my throat was sore for most of our stay in jacksonville, and i kept waking up with congestion and aches. i did the first three 60-mile days, and the following two 50-mile days, but i woke up miserable on the following day and decided to ride in the van. getting better instead of getting worse just seemed like a nice idea, and i figured some rest would help me achieve that.

we ended my van day in defuniak springs, FL, and i, hopped up on sudafed, was feeling much better by late afternoon. that was our first night of camping (we have more! mostly out west, though, in the middle of nowhere), and we stayed in an RV park. most of us went for a swim, where we played some games including marco polo. this is especially amusing because one of the riders is named marco. he, alas, was not present for the game.

the next day brought a 60-miler into milton. and THEN. THEN. 106 miles from milton, FL to mobile, AL. what what. my longest ride before the trip was 45 miles, ok, and i was pleasantly surprised when i did sucessive 60-mile rides with no problems. but a century? OVER a century?

i tried not to be nervous. i tried to think, hey, this is just like all those other rides! i'll just be on my bike for another few hours! it'll be great fun; i love being on my bike!! but then the creeping doubt: yeah, it's just like those other rides... except twice as long! ack!

adding to my fear was a time limit: we were taking a ferry for three miles, making our journey a total of 109 miles. but the ferry left every hour-and-a-half, and we had to make the 2:45 ferry. oh, did i forget to mention that the ferry was 80 miles away? well, um, the ferry was 80 miles away, and the 4:15 would put us at the host location, 26 miles after the ferry, too late. the group had to decide when to wake up so that everyone could make it by 2:45. it had been taking us about 2 hours to hit the road in the mornings, after packing, cleaning up the host location, loading the trailer, eating breakfast, having the route meeting, etc., and so we decided to wake up at 4. gross.

i think it was joe who said a century is all in your head. which is right on. and nothing beats 25 riding buddies, there for moral support and drafting. the route meeting included a group hug that turned into an impromptu singing/swaying of "lean on me." so choice.

and we were off. i stayed with the fastest riders in the front of the pack for 15 miles before they dropped me on some hills. hills, what? i ride in chicago, thank you very much, and i'm not down with this elevation business. i was alone for 10ish miles until another pack overtook me, so i joined in their loose paceline.

this is some beautiful riding that's happening here, by the way. we were on a scenic highway with lovely views of the gulf. perhaps more beautiful than lake michigan, which i do miss dearly.

lunch was on a beach around mile 44. we had a special treat of cheese and lunchmeat, which was a welcome change from the usual pb&j (and often, banana). mile 48 was "welcome to alabama!" -- a sign that sliced some of my bar tape, boo, fortunately just down in the drops where i don't grip often.

i mostly rode alone after that, since the group i was with was pushing harder than i wanted to. nothing was particularly notable except some gorgeous greenery on a delightful curving road. ah, and the final road to the ferry, which was somewhere between 5 and 10 miles, seemed to go on foooorrrrever.

i made it in time for the 1:15 ferry, as did about a dozen others. we were allowed to go ahead over, and we all, minus the two leaders who had made it, decided to go ahead. on the ferry i texted most of my biker friends to update them on my century status, and thanks to those who sent love back!

i rode the last 26 miles with emily. we stopped at a chevron for snacks and powerade (since we decided to go on the earlier ferry, we missed a second lunch break--carried by the van--on the ferry). the thing about gas stations in the south is that you can buy beer there. beer. and even more exciting, you can buy one at a time. no need to lug a six-pack around. the selection leaves something to be desired, though. my choices were piss beers, girly bacardi shits, corona, or heineken. confident i would make the next 20-something miles, i obviously bought myself a victory heineken. we ate snacks, headed across the street to a tie-dye t-shirt shop, chatted with the shopkeepers for a bit, and bought shirts before heading off.

now, i was a little worried about my beer staying cool. i had wrapped it in my raincoat to try to insulate it, but it was still in a black cargo bag on my rear rack. but then. then. about a half-mile into our resumed ride, what do i see on the side of the road but a koozie. a koozie! is that how it's spelled? you know, those little things you put your drink into to keep it cold. this was clearly a sign from god that he gave my century his blessing, and he wanted it to end with cold beer. i pulled over and picked up the koozie. groundscore.

my cyclometer was slightly off from emily's, so we made two additional stops to take pictures of our smiling faces next to our screens, displaying 100.0 miles. another stop at a fruit stand for peaches, strawberries, plums, and blueberries. the final miles to our resting place in Camp Christian (you can't make this shit up) went so so soooo slowly, but before long we made it. it was 4:30, maybe 5.

drinking in host locations is verboten, so i went on a little walk. called the 'rents to tell them i survived. ate the rest of my gas-station snacks, a pop-tart and some mixed nuts. and drank my cold, delicious beer.