We got through and took a break at the control in Rouses Point
where we found out that Fred Kresse, one of the volunteers working
this checkpoint, was at US Customs trying to get this other
rider back across the border, leaving Rick Lawrence to work
the control alone. Fred eventually did convince the authorities
to let this rider back in, but it took considerable time and
effort. Good job, Fred.
Rick was doing a great job manning the control alone, but was
not able to leave and get extra food as supplies ran low. I
managed to get a massage here, while the others ate, and Steve
Frechette, the ride's official photographer, replaced Charlie's
broken spoke.
After
another long break, we rolled out as darkness fell. It wasn't
long before Charlie, riding on tubulars, had a flat. We were
all eaten alive by mosquitoes while stopped for the repair.
I must remember bug repellent next time. (Did I really say just
next time?) We got back rolling, but John's leg continued
to bother him. At least I was feeling much better, and we did
manage to pick up the pace and actually do some legitimate tandem
pulls for a while, until suddenly John's sharp pains returned
again, and rather than delay our three companions any longer,
we sent them on. I really worried that John could permanently
injure himself if this pain was caused by a pulled or torn muscle.
We stopped several times to stretch and try to relieve the pain.
At one point, we found a couple of Adirondack chairs on the
lawn of an Inn, facing the beautiful full moon shining down
upon the lake. I sat back and soaked in this incredible view,
while John stretched. The island is pretty desolate at night
and we saw no open stores for many, many miles. We finally spotted
one, and stopped to seek out some lineament to rub into John's
sore thigh.
While waiting here we were joined by Jim Keuhn from the Potomac
Pedallers. We were sitting in a corner of the store fighting
gnats for our sodas when Jim convinced us it might be more pleasant
outside. We sat for quite a while, trying to muster up the courage
press on toward South Burlington. I had been in this same situation
two years before, except the roles were reversed. Going into
Montreal, I had somehow injured my ankle. To this day, I'm still
not sure if it was tendonitis, a bee sting or a sprain - or
a combination of all three. I started swallowing ibuprofen like
candy, and tried to press on. I was so caught up in finishing
the ride, and so worried about disappointing my captain, that
I tried to ride through the pain. Somewhere on the island, I
finally gave in. We found our support vehicle a few miles later,
packed up the bike and drove to our motel. The next morning,
after much icing and 8 hours of sleep, the pain had been replaced
by a lot of swelling. The ankle looked very bad, but I could
walk. I decided if I could walk, that I could ride, so we got
in the van, returned to the site of abandonment, and started
back up again, finishing the ride well within the time limit.
I learned a lot from this. I learned about teamwork, and how
important it is to let your partner know that it's OK to stop
to prevent an injury, and that the ride is not so important
that you'd risk injuring your partner. I remember feeling my
partner's support throughout all this, and knew I had to make
John feel that same type of support.
I also learned that it is possible to stop for 8-10 hours and
still finish the ride in the time limit. I learned that stopping
and icing can work miracles. And I learned that miracles can
happen. This time John and I did not have a personal support
vehicle. We probably would have dropped out long before, if
we had. So we had to get to the motel under our own steam. I
tried to give everything I had so John could take it easy, and
we continued to take breaks along this section until we finally
saw the lights up ahead that signaled rest and possibly the
end of our ride.
We reached the motel, where we found Mark in the lobby on the
phone. He offered us food, but we declined in favor of sleep.
They had planned to head out very early, and we said that we
might stop here. We'd just have to see what icing and rest would
do. We were both very disappointed. We had worked very hard
to prepare for this ride.
The
next morning, John felt better, but worried that we still might
not make it. We decided to head toward Middlebury, where we
could get a lift in if necessary. We had a tough 35 miles of
steep rollers and headwinds to get to Middlebury. The winds
had started to pick up the night before while we were riding,
and just before we reached the motel, they were quite strong.
I felt for those riders who had to come down the island in this
wind. It seemed we had again made the right choice to press
on into the evening.
We talked about our different options upon reaching Middlebury.
There would be a massage therapist there, who might be able
to help. There would be a bike shop there, where we could buy
a new saddle or saddle pad to help with the hammock problem.
But John's leg hurt so bad, that the saddle hammock was secondary.
We decided to stop at the bike shop and left with both a new
Brooks pre-softened saddle and a saddle pad. Then we headed
over to the checkpoint. I went in and talked with the massage
therapist, and got John the next available slot, about 15 minutes
later. We enjoyed some great lasagna and pizza, while waiting
for John's massage.
I did a little bike maintenance, jettisoning some unneeded
weight, and trying to fix a problem with our big chainring,
which seemed to be bent. It turned out that the bolts were loose
and the ring was bent, but I managed to tighten and straighten
everything out. Since we had not needed the powdered Ensure
we had carried for 500 miles, I decided to leave it in our sag
bag, along with a few other bits and pieces. I filled our bottles
and Camelbaks, and prepared everything for possible departure.
I also checked into a possible lift home.
When I returned to the massage area, I found a cheerful John
still on the table. The masseuse had told him that she believed
the problem was probably tendonitis, rather than a torn muscle,
and had suggested John see a podiatrist for orthotics after
the ride was over. In the meantime, anti-inflammatories were
the order of the day. Out came the ibuprofen.
John decided to go with the saddle pad on top of the deformed
saddle. We left the new saddle with our other gear, and rolled
out. The difference was incredible. Both of us felt great for
the first time in almost a day, and we climbed Middlebury like
we never had before. The descent was spectacular, and we topped
60 leaning hard into a corner. The temperature was rising and
I had a little trouble with the heat, but just kept stripping
off clothing.
We caught a few riders and formed a nice tandem-led paceline
winding through the valley heading toward Killington. Before
the climb, we stopped for a leisurely break at the General Store
in Stockbridge. This is one of my favorite places to eat in
Vermont. I first discovered it on TOSRV-East in 1991, and cannot
pass by this store without stopping for some of their wonderful
homemade bread, a sandwich or a pastry. We picked up some bread
and sodas and headed out to the front porch to sit for a while.
We were in no hurry now. We were actually taking the dinner
break here that most folks would take in Ludlow. With the climb
up Mt. Terrible coming right after that checkpoint, I wanted
to spend as little time there as possible, so we wouldn't cool
down too much before that climb.
We
rolled up and down Killington with ease and flew in and out
of the checkpoint at Ludlow. This climb up Terrible is tough,
with 2 miles of 10% followed by a bit of relief and then 2 miles
of 9%. A headwind on the descent, that tossed singles about
mercilessly slowed us a bit, but still allowed for some nice
speed. We headed up and down Andover just as darkness fell.
The rolling climb up Route 35 was really not as bad as I had
remembered - although the descent seemed way too short for all
the climbing I remembered on Day 1. As we discovered later in
the season, this section that seems like all up, and very little
down in BOTH directions is really just a long series of steep
rollers.
This
part of Vermont is pretty desolate. Somewhere along this section,
a car full of teenagers decided to follow us for a while. We
heard quite a bit of giggling from behind, but just as I was
starting to worry, they turned off. We caught a couple of other
riders and rode into Brattleboro together.
