Bonkfest 2007

Cinco de Mayo. To me, it felt more like Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead.) It was time for the 300km. How did I do, you ask? They say a picture tells a thousand stories. Let's just say it was a long day on the bike. Actually, we finished the ride in 14h 24m, which was 5h 36m ahead of the cutoff time for the day and put us in the middle of the field for the finishers.
Randonneuring is about the ride, not your finishing spot. However, I'm a competitive person. You put me on a bike with other lycra-clad folks and I start sizing up who's got the legs to put down the hammer. Suffice it to say, Saturday wasn't my day and this week's mountain biking race is not looking good either!

As I've mentioned before, I rode the day with my buddy, Scott Thompson. Keith Dudding, my Edwardsville friend, also showed up for the 5am rollout. Here's a shot of Keith:


Here's a shot of Scott and me (I'm on the right):

Our 5am rollout was quite surreal. A 300km bike ride is a frightening distance to biker and non-biker alike and the blanket of fog enhanced that feeling. I used two Cateye HL-520 lights (you can barely see them under my handlebar bag) and they provided more than enough lighting for the morning. In fact, I felt like I was lighting up too much road. (I'm not sure that's possible, but it did feel that way.) I will use that same set-up on the longer distances, where there will be significantly more time to ride in the darkness.

We kept a decent pace throughout the morning averaging somewhere in the 16-17mph pace. Scott has completed an entire brevet series before, so I tend to let him lead the way and set the pace. Let me correct you right now. That doesn't mean I wheelsuck him for 187 miles, but rather let him dictate what speed will allow us to finish with some sense of dignity.

Riding along we passed the standard towns, Pocahontas, Breese, and Albers. The first checkpoint of the day was in Breese. All checkpoints, usually held in local gas stations / convenience stores, require riders to stop in to have their brevet card filled in with their arrival time at the checkpoint. The convenience store clerks handle this duty without complaint. Heck, in some cases, I think they like seeing a different clientele. Our stopping by the stores gives them stories to tell for days, or at least until the next brevet ride. I'm sure they're saying things like, "Hey Fred, did you see the crust of salt on that fat guy's face! He's still gotta ride another 150 miles! Heck, he doesn't look like he'll make it much past County Road 6!" On this day, Breese dealt me my first blow. A rather large, handwritten sign proclaiming "Rest rooms out of service." Change of plans. Randonneurs need to be ready for anything, should always be prepared. Not this guy. A non-functioning restroom was more than I could take. I needed to press on and it wasn't because the road was calling my name. Rather it was the roadside was calling my name.

Scott and I marched on through the familiar roads on route to our second checkpoint, Okawville. On the 200km, this stop signals less than 60 miles in your ride. The gas mart is stocked fairly well with sandwiches and carb laden goodies. I generally munch down a Hostess pie of some sorts. However, today I was going with the ham and cheese and a soda.

This was the first time we met up with Ray Derr, who was also riding his first 300km. Ray was riding with another gentleman, whom I didn't meet. They were sitting on the side of the gas mart enjoying a little late breakfast/lunch. Later in the day we'd see Ray again without his nameless side kick.

As we rolled out of Okawville, I noticed my back was really starting to bother me. As I mentioned a few weeks ago, I rebuilt a stone wall in my yard and my back hasn't felt strong since then. I also felt as though I was really struggling with my bike. I was fighting some bad shifting issues and some of the gears I wanted to spin just weren't cooperating. Therefore, I was forced to either spin too high a gear, or spin too low a gear. I'm really more comfortable pushing a bigger gear and spinning around 80 rpms. Not making excuses, but trying to figure out what was wrong with me.

Overall, the day was a see-saw of feelings for me. At times, I was truly ready to call it a day. Why I kept going I don't know. Perhaps it was that I had no cell coverage and therefore calling my wife and telling her to come get me was out of the question. Maybe it was the fact that I was approximately 80 miles from home. I think the biggest reason was that I know some truly strong kids who are not quitters. Unfortunately, our good friends, Paul and Ann Murphys have a son who's dealing with leukemia and he's definitely not quitting! (Joe Murphy, you're a strong kid and an inspiration to many!) This is a bike ride, for heavens sake, this is something I get to do, not something I have to do.

My only other meaningful event of the day was as I was leaving a checkpoint, my front tire blew out. I'm just glad it didn't happen while I was riding, particularly down a hill, as I know I would have wiped out. After changing the tire and screwing around with my pump, I was able to get back on the road.

If you asked me at 150 miles, I was definitely not riding the 400km or the 600km. As we neared town, I determined I could do the 400km, but didn't let my friend, Scott know I was planning to do so. As I drove home, I determined that I felt too good following the 300km finish to not attempt the 400km. All things considered, I survived the Bonkfest. The last thing Scott mentioned to me was "See you May 19th!" That the date for the 400km. I've learned a long time ago not to question Scott. Scott, you were right again. I'll see you on the 19th!