Get Your Kicks on 246, or Bee Buzzin 06

This year I was hopping to beat my 19.5 ave from last year. It promised to be a fast ride as Zac Lake of the US U23 team, and fresh from Europe was sure to kick it up a notch. Matt came down for the ride, he’s lost another 20lbs. We left early and parked at my office, where I have my bike. I wanted to do some last minute adjustments as the bike has been making a clicking noise at the bottom portion of the left cranks pedal stroke. I tightened down the cranks and the pedals and hoped the noise would stop. In a couple of minutes we were at the chamber of commerce and checking in. I spoke to Dan, one of the Laurens county guys and Stephen, the chairperson of the Bee Buzzin. We picked up our shirts and found my Mom; she put them in her truck for safe keeping. I saw the Greenwood group, Andrew Evans, Andrew Douglas, Milo Metcalf, Jeff and Shaun Ronan, Bradley Cox, and John Campbell, and Zac Lake. We had a good turn out. I was talking to Zac when I saw them, the team that took down three riders at the Governor’s Ride in October; one of them was Andrew Douglas, maybe more on that later. “Watch those guys”, I told Zac.
“Really?” was his reply.
“Not that they’re fast”
“Sketchy”
“Yeah, they took out Andrew Douglas in October”. He nods understanding. I have faith in him, chances are they won’t be able to stay near him, but anything could happen in the first few minutes. For most of us this is just one of those, show up and ride metrics. Only racing yourself and the clock, or just out for a fun ride. For the others, the fast racer types, this is an unofficial race, the prize, bragging right for a year, the license to talk smack about the Greenwood Club. This year things were different, I could feel the tention in the air, almost taste it. This was going to be a fast ride. Zac had just recently returned from racing for the US under 23 team in Europe and had some good training under him. He didn’t win any races over there, but it is such a different level of competitiveness. Imagine a team of French football players going to the “Big Game” and you start to get an idea. Matt and I run into Russ, he has to cut his ride short due to some guests coming from out of town, and has to do the 25 instead of the metric. “I’m just going to hold on to the back as long as I can”, I said that a lot before the start. “This is going to be a fast ride”, I said.
“You think so?” Russ asked.
“Yeah, Zac is riding and everybody wants to see what he’s made of”.
Russ nods in agreement and we set off to find a good starting point. I talk about the course and mention the turn in Ninety Six before the light, it’s the only real issue as far as markings go, but I know the course, so I share. Stephen is saying something about the route up front and I can’t hear him, no matter, I’ll follow the guy in front of me. We take off and before I know it we are doing 27mph down S. Main St. Matt later said that we got up to 32mph. I was too busy trying to keep up to notice. We had our escort and the local police stopped traffic at the lights, blowing through a red light while waving at a cop, now that’s entertainment! The first few miles were a blur, Matt took off like a shot and I eventually caught his wheel as we turned on Marshal. We passed a good many people trying to catch the first group. We latched on the back, and in a couple of miles it was over, we were dropped halfway down Siloam Church Rd when it happened, 7.5 miles in. It was faster than last year I told myself. Matt, the kid that took Andrew down in October, and me were left panting on the road in the aftermath. We took turns pulling, the kid only pulled in short bursts letting us do all the work, nice. I was about to ask him if his bike handling skills have improved since October, but I held my tongue. We turned on Old 246, then on 702 and shortly there after we had another group pass, junior jumped on the back, and so did Matt and me. Bradley Cox and John Lake were there. Bradley made a comment about me riding a real bike, meaning a coastie multigeared bike. He’s young and inexperienced so I let it go. We were cruising along at 22mph when I noticed a stain on the road taking up the whole lane, then I noticed something big and brown in the ditch to the right. It was a horse, but the odd part was it had no head. “Man, that’s a big deer”, the guy behind me yelled. I thought of that old joke about the guy taking his wife hunting, “You can have it, just let me get the saddle first”. The paceline was moving along, the guy up front would pull for a while, the peel off to the back to give the next guy a turn. Bradley’s turn came and he maintained the speed, though asked directions from me at the four way where 34 and 702 cross, we went straight and he peeled off, it was my turn. I pulled for a good while, but I did a little too much and blew up on the next hill. It was just nasty enough to hurt. I tried to stay on the back, but the hill was just too much and I lost Bradley’s wheel. I downed one of my gels and tried to keep the pack in sight. Oh well, on my own again. It was now that I really noticed just how uncomfortable my saddle was becoming. It was making my legs hurt, so I just focused on pedaling circles. After a few miles I saw a figure up ahead, It was Matt. I pedaled passed him and he pulled in behind me. “The hills were wearing me down and I wasn’t recovering fast enough”, he said as I pulled feeling better to have a little company. I’m afraid that in a few months I won’t be able to keep up with him. He is ridding pretty strong and in a couple of months he will be lighter. He had Gastric by-pass surgery at the first of the year, and then he was 370, now 265. When he reaches his goal weight of 180 I won’t be able to keep up. We take turns pulling and find the rest stop. This was number two as number one wasn’t set up when we went by. We turned on Mineral Springs Rd. and stopped for a drink and talked to Dan and Stephen. Stephen in true form was not wearing a shirt and showing off his freshly shaved chest, sorry ladies I didn’t get any pictures. As I took off I was witness to a lady dropping her shorts behind Stephen truck to cop a squat, no pix of that either. We roll down the road and turn on the smooth asphalt of 178 and its rolling hills. Last year I was alone on this road and I felt fast. This time I was having some trouble, I couldn’t stay in the drops due to stomach cramps. I was feeling slow. A few miles down the road we picked up a rider, he had stopped to rescue a goat that had its horns caught in a fence. We manage to stay together and turn on 246 headed in to Ninety Six. After the first hill I find that I am alone again, but some how I find a groove and stretch my legs. After a few miles I spot a rider in the distance, now I have a new goal, reel him in. After another couple of miles I do and pass. This was the best part of the ride I was feeling strong and started singing, “Get your kicks on 246.” That hill before the town limits sign was “Special”. Shortly after I pulled up to the last rest stop and got some water and refilled my bottles. I grabbed a chocolate chip cookie and tried to eat it. I managed to get it down, but it was more work than it should be. I drank a little more and waited for Matt while my stomach settled. I was starting to get concerned when I saw him turn on 34 instead of Scotch Cross, and waved him down. He blew up bad on 246 and had to stop to stretch on the side of the road. I had been at this stop way too long and was getting antsy, but I wanted to make sure Matt was Ok. Then this guy pats me on the shoulder,” Hey, remember me? We did the Tour de Abbeville last year, you rode that fixed gear.” It took me a while to place the face. He had a lady friend with him then; I didn’t see her and didn’t ask. A couple of weeks earlier I made that mistake and got an answer I didn’t like, I kept my mouth shut. The three of us found our way over to the Hardee’s for a bathroom break, I had to pee and Matt, well you know. I left Matt to his business and talked to the guy, I can’t remember his name, I’m bad with names, but I know he lives in Lexington, go figure. He gets tired of waiting and heads out. Matt and I leave together and soon he’s way behind. Then something happens, I feel this sense of urgency. I have to at least match my time from last year and I don’t think I can do it. A couple of guys find my wheel and I try to lose them. Then the suffering starts. I start mentally beating myself up for gaining those extra pounds and telling myself that the wind in my face is just an excuse. I can’t believe I’m this slow. I haven’t done enough fast rides. I’m not going to make it.. I get to where Scots Cross crosses 25 and becomes 225. The light turns red and the guys I dropped earlier catch up. The light turns green and I clip in. This is it, my last chance to make up some time. I don’t remember how fast I was going, just that I felt it wasn’t fast enough, so I pedaled harder. I was disappointed in myself, so I pedaled harder. Oddly enough giving up and cruising in at a comfortable pace never once occurred to me. I bombed down the hills building speed and momentum for the inevitable climb up the other side. When my momentum gave out I slogged up the other side as best I could sometimes out of the saddle, “dancing” on the pedals, and sometimes sliding back in the saddle and spinning like mad. I was starting to see cars with bikes mounted as people were leaving. They had finished and packed up and I was still out here. It made me mad, I dug deeper. I turned on Maxwell Ave. I was doing 22. I was saving a little for that hill at the end and when I reached it I attached it. I crossed the rail road tracks and was almost done, toast. I made the light and turned on Main St. If it had been red I don’t know if I could have got going again. The rest of the lights cooperated as well and I turned on Seaboard then Phoenix and into the Chamber’s parking lot. I looked at the clock on my computer. I blinked. 3hours, 10 minutes, last year it was 3:30, I did it, I averaged just a tad over 20mph, the fastest metric I’ve done so far. I was mentally charged, physically, I just didn’t want to embarrass myself by falling over. I sat in the shade, sipped what was left in my bottle, chatted with Dan and his son Nolan, and waited for Matt. Now I was smiling.