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I never finished my moving tale. Obviously, we made it home. It only took... I don't know. We left Lowell, Mass at... 8ish and my mom dropped me at home just after 8 that night.
I actually don't want to write about the return trip because it involves a highly volatile encounter with some jacknut in NYC. I still get sick to my stomach thinking about it and how crazy that guy was. Sick to my stomach like thinking, gee, we could have died.
Let's talk, instead, about the final hours of the bike ride.
When I left OC Sunday morning, I was making little promises to myself the entire way: get over that first bridge, and then you can stop. Get over that second bridge, stop. Get to the first rest area and stop. Get to 35 miles out and stop. Get here, get there. Get to absolute 150, wherever that is, and just flat-out stop.
When we three were within 30 miles of the finish, I knew I could make it. 30 miles! That's less than a trip to Valley Forge and back! Nevermind that I'd only spent some 11 hours and 140+ miles in the saddle over the last 36 hours... Punchy, exhausted, and sunburnt (each rest stop found me shivering), we three crossed the finish line in team formation.
And even though I spent the entire weekend declaring my outright hate for this ride, I've already considered next year. Next year, I want to raise $1,000. That makes me a VIP and VIPs get free massages at the end of the ride. That, my friends, is why we ride.
Speaking of massages, 9 days until Chocolate Town.
I actually don't want to write about the return trip because it involves a highly volatile encounter with some jacknut in NYC. I still get sick to my stomach thinking about it and how crazy that guy was. Sick to my stomach like thinking, gee, we could have died.
Let's talk, instead, about the final hours of the bike ride.
When I left OC Sunday morning, I was making little promises to myself the entire way: get over that first bridge, and then you can stop. Get over that second bridge, stop. Get to the first rest area and stop. Get to 35 miles out and stop. Get here, get there. Get to absolute 150, wherever that is, and just flat-out stop.
When we three were within 30 miles of the finish, I knew I could make it. 30 miles! That's less than a trip to Valley Forge and back! Nevermind that I'd only spent some 11 hours and 140+ miles in the saddle over the last 36 hours... Punchy, exhausted, and sunburnt (each rest stop found me shivering), we three crossed the finish line in team formation.
And even though I spent the entire weekend declaring my outright hate for this ride, I've already considered next year. Next year, I want to raise $1,000. That makes me a VIP and VIPs get free massages at the end of the ride. That, my friends, is why we ride.
Speaking of massages, 9 days until Chocolate Town.
