Rapha's Lincoln Continental

I really thought it was over and done.  Coming off of the minor disappointment of the M-22 ride and the major let down of Dirty Kanza, I considered a recharge to be in order.  However, at approximately 12:10pm on Monday, that all changed.  Kevin left me a message that kick started another whirlwind of events leading me to my second Rapha ride and third ride of more than 100 miles inside of a week.  As I found out during the ride, Daniel Wakefield Pasley had suggested to Kevin that perhaps they should see if I could come along.  What was I going to do, say 'no?'

It was an interesting change coming into the second ride because I had met almost everyone before.  Aaron Erbeck was the lone new Rapha rider and with Nate, Kevin and MW there, I was feeling comfortable as we sat down to enjoy some food at the oven and chat.  With Sam having already come to my rescue by reconstructing my boxed bike, the evening's chatter was stress free and, aside from wondering how my legs would feel, I was excited to ride my first Poncha ride.

Matt Covers the Route with Dave

With an early start at the Coffee House, we met, lubricated and took off into a wet and grimey day.  The forecast called for it to clear and, as we set off through town, I found myself hoping the route would firm up sooner rather than later.  Not to mention, there was the headwind that would stay with us the entire day.

Tony explains an emergency jet plane landing

Nate was able to join us for the first fifty

Tony and Nate mid chat

Ironically, our way out of town followed a good portion of my commute to work and then transitioned into the route I take when I ride gravel at lunch.  Unfortunately, my legs felt like as dead as they may have ever felt when starting a ride and it wasn't long until I was well, well off the back, wondering if I should just turn around with Nate and ride home.  We were sinking into the gravel fairly deeply and I tacted like a drunken sailor having no snap or power to show for myself.  So, as the group regathered at a turn, I decided to keep moving, knowing they would just catch me again and I wouldn't slow things down quite as much.

Early on in a wet morning ride

MW always looks incredibly solid and balanced on his machine

Ah, the familar early gap

MW and Kevin talk route with Piers and Nate.  I love this picture.

It's early, but a little bit of suffering starts to creep in

Dave sells 'sexy' with that hat

MW keeping the news of the impending 'B' road to himself

Sometime around the 60 mile mark, MW literally dropped into our first 'B' road of the day.  He wheelie into it, the rest of us followed and, I think mainly out of Paris-Roubaix like excitement, punched it.  I smiled the entire time.  Not to mention, one handed the entire section to take video of it which I will post later.  The highlight for me was when I went around Tony and heard him say, "This is so absurd it's fucking awesome!!"  Awesome?  Absolutely.

Unleash the hounds!

The North Bend diner stop soon followed.  It was a case of culture shock for some of the residents while others seemed to know of the Poncha ride and considered it like some bizarre sort of yearly migration through their town.  Even the local press was called into duty.  The climax was when the local reporting, holding a cheap digital camera and struggling with it, asked if anyone happened to know anything about cameras.  Uh yeah, we might have someone who can help.

Aaron displays the route

Ready for more

Aside from a flat after shortly after we left (the only one on gravel all day), I began to feel like myself after North Bend and managed to stay roughly with the group.  It was becoming a nice day out, the gravel was firming up and spirits, as they say, were high.

Aaron takes on the tank

MW had to point this out to me.  I am glad he did.

Kevin makes sure we're on track.  He was strong all day long.

I couldn't give you a mile mark, but not terribly long after 'Tank-City,' we started to encounter incredibly sandy gravel.  Think European cross, but miles of it at once.  Pedalling downhill at eight miles an hour, focused on not washing out, grinding.  It was something that took a lot of concentration (at least for me).  At one point, Kevin and I did about three miles together, but I didn't say squat because I was so focused on keeping it straight and not going down.  It was incredibly fun though, despite the toll it took.

Kevin and Dave consider alternatives to the sand

Smiles everyone!

Clif Bloc?

Prepping to head back out

My memory hasn't really preserved many of the next several miles.  We hit some road, kept grinding our way through the headwind and generally kept moving.  Grind, regroup, grind again.  As we moved through the last fifty miles, the climbs got a bit more severe as did our separation from each other, but everyone had a smile, enjoyed the scenery and enjoyed their own little island of suffering.

Piers and Aaron

Home on the range

Daniel performs balancing tricks during our last stop to reload on food

Smooth as silk, KW

Climbing into Thurston

Realizing we are going to run into a "light issue."

Strung out in the sand

It's beautiful, but we went the other direction (and my legs were afraid of it)

Kevin and I were feeling the day a bit but ready for more

Bottom of the hill works

The fifty miles of the Poncha ride is, to my eyes, absolutely stunning, the roads start to roll and twist, the familar grid of Nebraska gravel replaced by something far more appealling in both challenge and aesthetic.  I was in that mental space where you are just able to keep riding, not too fast, not terribly slow.  The zone, for lack of a better term.

However, I am not sure I really looked that well.  

At one point, Daniel rolled up and asked, "Hey Skip, would you fuck a midget?"

"What?"

"Would you fuck a midget?"

"Well, yeah, I guess... you know if she was cool and... "

"Yeah, yeah, had a good personality, and you were really into her... yeah."

"Would you?"

"Yeah... I'd be surprised it got that far... but yeah..."

Beautiful, but we've got a lot more to go

As night fell, we ended up at an intersection, with twilight turning to darkness and about seven miles remained.  Aaron was ready to go and just bang it out.  He sounded focused and ready to rock.  Tony wasn't sure if he could make it.  His bloodshot eyes reminded me of when I am in a low.  No one else was saying much.  I just assumed we would end up cranking it out.  I think I mentioned to Tony that it was less than our respective commutes and, before you know it, Daniel and Dave had the high beams on in the van and we were off.  Total darkness, gravel roads and seven miles later, the end of an incredibly hard and satisfying day.  One of the hardest I have ever had on a bike.

I really need to say thanks to Daniel Wakefield Pasley for suggesting I come along and to Kevin and Matt for letting me join them.  I loved it all.  It was great way to grind out my first Poncha ride (paricularly since once again, I can't make it to the Lincoln community version.)  Thanks guys.