May 6, 2006
What do you get when you combine 46 nutjobs in tight shorts with 45 bicycles and 40-degree rainy weather in the Amish country of the Southern Tier of New York? You get the bone-cold, sodden manure-fest known as the Addison Road Race of ‘06. Addison is an open citizens road race that attracts all kinds of riders. This year we had everything from a dude with a GPS on his recumbent to a cadre of strong regional racers. Sheila and I were the sole tandem team.
The morning started gray but dry here in PA. Not long after we crossed the NY border, though, things changed from cool to wet and downright cold. After picking up our race number and t-shirts Sheila and I attempted a warm-up, but only succeeded in soaking our chamois (we weren’t sharing just one, but what the hell is the plural of chamois?). We were just making ourselves colder than we were before, so we retreated to the car until closer to race time. Then after shivering on the start line for a few long minutes, we were off.
Tandeming among a pack of single bikes can be challenging. It’s difficult to match the accelerations and frustrating when you’ve got good momentum going and then no place to take it when the group suddenly slows in front of you. It requires anticipation. And for the first few miles we were doing well. Reading the moves. Sitting in comfortably (if you can call taking cold spray from above and below “comfortable”). And I could see exactly what was going to happen next when this low-slung recumbent (without a GPS) came splashing past my left knee. But that didn’t make it any easier when he squirted off the front and the group snapped from a lazy blob huddling for warmth into a long thin line. Back where we were it wasn’t long before that line started to look more like a Morse code message. I asked Sheila for a little more oomph and we closed down some of those gaps and reattached ourselves to an ever-dwindling lead pack.
Things calmed down for a bit, and then we really scared the bejeebers out of an Amish man’s horse as we slogged up a rise. It was shortly after that, when I had a little better view of the road ahead, that it began to dawn on me that the rooster tail mist we were riding through was not composed entirely of rainwater. I tried to keep my mouth closed and breathe through my nose.
Next came the hills, and soon it was back mouth-breathing again as about 20 of the toughest left us gasping in their wake. We’re both riding well. Sheila is probably the fittest she’s ever been, and we were climbing faster than we ever have. Still, the tandem just doesn’t go uphill all that great, and all we could do was watch and wince as that train pulled away from the station without us. At least Jared, our teammate, was on it.
We ended up in a group of 5, including our other teammate, Jimmy G., and went into full chase mode. It took a while to get everyone to cooperate, but with Jimmy’s help we finally got organized and roared back into town with a strong tailwind and legs numbed by the cold. It’s hard to believe that we never caught back up to the leaders, because it felt like we were absolutely flying. Anyway, it felt great that Sheila and I were able to do the lion’s share of the work. And when it came down to the end we were able to practice some good teamwork and lead Jimmy out for an excellent sprint, even if it was for 21st place. The best news is that Jared finished 4th in his battle for the win, and he took 1st in his age group.
Basically for us, the whole thing came down to 90 minutes of abject misery, followed immediately by an intense sense of euphoria. The suffering was over. Once we stopped shivering enough to get the car key in the lock, we’d be able to get into some warm dry clothes. There was a chance we might regain the feeling in our extremities. We covered 34 miles faster than we ever have before, and under some really heinous conditions. Now that’s my idea of a birthday well spent. Oh yeah, did I mention it was my birthday? Happy birthday to me!
-Tom Oswald
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