Yall rock

Earlier this year the idea for an odd ride concept manifested in my head, three weeks ago Rex used a couple beers to get me to send an email probe out about it, and Friday night about 40 of you nut jobs showed up and made it a reality. To everyone who rode or just supported the idea, you all rock and made it an amazing night.


At midnight an army of road, mountain, cross, single speed, hybrid, touring, and even fat bikes rolled off the capitol square and paraded through town. Parties in full swing WOOOOOed from balconies cars cars honked (in the good way), and confused bike path users yielded to the blinding light display that zipped past them. I forced an easy pace through the city to keep everyone well behaved at road crossings and to get some security by numbers through some of the sketchier parts of town. At the highway PD crossing the gates lifted and the lead groups started to form.



On the first few miles of pavement there was a lot of shuffling as everyone was feeling out the fast but not-yet-blistering pace. At Purcell road the pavement yields to crushed limestone and the racers shaped up into two packs and a few stragglers. Of course the regular riders just marched on and continued to enjoy the perfect evening lit by a nearly full moon.

The lead group of a dozen or so strong guys took off and a chase group congealed. Not many of us chasers were experienced road riders so it took quite a while to figure out how to work a proper pace line; this was complicated by the unnerving proposition of drafting in the dark, on obstacle filled trail, and a shower of grit being tossed up from the tire you followed.

Long story short, there was a sprint for the win, about half the riders reached or got within a few miles of the border as the lead group took their sweet time trying to lighten the trailer that the leader was to drag back. Everyone I spoke with before the ride, who weren't there to win it, mentioned that their goal was to reach Monroe which was just 6 miles from the border and happily they all did, other than a few folks who were rumored to have turned around early.

On the return ride the whole group settled into a relaxed pace with the occasional rest stop to enjoy a well earned brew stretch. I greatly over estimated how much beer would be had, which ended up being less than one per rider, so the winner dragging the trailer thought I was kidding about the second case that he was to pick up near the tunnel while there were still full bottles bouncing around behind him.



We stopped in front of the tunnel for a quick award ceremony where the winner Trevor, and the first woman Sarah, received their trophies. At this point there was a rumor that a mystery rider named Bill had passed the return group about 5 miles from the border but insisted that he wanted to continue on to complete the whole route. I'd prepared a trophy for the rider who 'never gave up' but for now that had to stay in the trailer until we could confirm the existence of 'Stubborn Bill'.



Feeling that leader had suffered long enough I forced everyone to pocket a bottle of beer to lighten the trailer. Unfortunately the slow leak that one of my trailer tires had wasn't as slow as I'd thought and our winner discovered this just a few miles out of town. He stopped to top off the tire but it surely didn't help his toil up to that point. Sorry about that buddy, I really should have fixed that before hand.

For the final stretch the ride dismantled into a number of smaller groups and pairs. The sunrise was a welcome site, especially for the struggling riders, and those of us who returned to the start line were greeted by the cheerful vendors who were just getting the farmers market rolling. Stories of police driving on the bike path, clipping racoons, bat strikes, near crashes, and flat tires were swapped over coffee and scones.



The winner, weary of dragging the heavy and poorly maintained trailer and clutching his trophy, announced my favorite quote of the event; "I do not want to win this next year"



Then the fabled 'Stubborn Bill' arrived to a heroes welcome and claimed his prize as the most bull headed rider of the night.



Special thanks to my lovely wife Tara and her equally lovely friend Margaret for braving the desolate roads (and the mysterious horses that cross them in the wee hours of the night) for depositing the trailer at the border. Also thanks to 'Newlow' for appearing from nowhere to be the event photographer, I can't wait to see what you captured.

Also, thanks everyone for chipping in. I'll be making a donation to the 'Friends of the Badger State Trail' for $100.

Cheers,
Rich

P.S. This will happen again next year.