When I took this picture I didn't think about the composition... cobbles, H8ter trail on the down tube, the dragon. But it works for me somehow.
Back in late January I was ready to get my inner H8ter* ready. When the email from the Kitten Master appeared I was as giddy as a school girl. That's an image everyone needs. I'd done a few rides in the nastiness and was looking forward to doing it properly. The first incarnation of the Hell of the South Classic has a special place in my heart. It's like the um, first date, yeah, that's it, date, a young man has in his life. It wasn't what most would consider ideal. It was rough, cold and dirty, but it made up for that by being wet, slippery and hard. But it was free...
Last year's H8er* was different still as it was less a race and more a ride with friends. It was still the HoTS but it was like being on a date and seeing the woman with whom you'd had your first "date."
But that was then and this is now.
As I opened the email I let loose with a "yippie!" which got Karen's attention from the other room. When I told her the KM had released the date of the H8ter* ride she asked "can I do it too?" She's never raced, ever, at anything. Her interest was in experiencing an event that can't be adequately explained. I knew she could do it so I said yes.
Here's a little back story about Karen and me. When we met she noticed the sticker adorned Yakima fairing on the roof of my truck and asked if I rode bikes. We made a date for a ride and I expected her to show up with a PoS hybrid or ghastly 27" wheeled road bike like a few before her. Instead I was pleased to see she had an Appel with Campy and she could draft. Our first ride was easily 40 miles with our second date being a metric century.
Karen had been training much more than I had all winter, See page 2, so I wasn't worried about her. After repeatedly telling her "it isn't a race" and "you'll have at least me to draft off" she was comfortable with the idea of riding the H8ter*.
I prepped her RB-1 for the ride. Lighter wheels, appropriate tires and the position dialed to nearly identical of the Appel gave her additional piece of mind.
I finished the Lemond too. A Sachs front derailleur direct from eBay France completed the drivetrain. The Michelin 28's gave it more volume for the approaching pave. A few pieces of french components and the "Spare" will be free of Shimano components.
Even the 'puter is French. As we missed the turn around the milage of the H8ter* is as shown. More on that later.
Saturday the 11th arrives. Everything is ready to roll, everybody is not. We get to the park shelter with minutes to spare and manage to miss KM's rider meeting. Cupcake and I had discussed the intended level of intensity with Karen in mind so we were ready to domestique for the day. As the group rolls out of the park, Cupcake declares a mechanical emergency "my crank arm is loose, anyone have an 8mm?" Dude. We pause at the corner while he rides back to the park shelter and gets the crank arm fixed. Well off the back of the field we settle into a tempo Karen can handle. Much like the Queen of the Classics the field has to react to the course more than reacting to the other riders. We could see the tail of the field and we were gaining on a few of the "tail-end-charlies" once we were on the Badger Trail. Near what must have been the turn around we were given a hand-up of "Hurricane High Gravity Lager." At 8.1% -OH/Vol I have blamed it for addling our brains to the extent that we miss-interpreted the turn around sign. it was an arrow pointing upward stating "turn around" as in "the turn around is that way, keep going." I need to review my H8ter-English dictionary next year.
A mile or so later we happened upon Cory Gwin. He'd flatted out of the lead group and was looking for the turn-around. He joined us and a short time later CupCake consulted the iPhone for GPS coordinates. The iPhone had the H8ter Locater App and it told us we'd strayed from the route and we should turn around and enjoy the return trip into the wind. We sheltered Karen as best we could from the wind but her legs were beginning to fail. Shortly before Belleville we moved off the H8ter* trail onto the parallel county road and it's much smoother tarmac. Once in Belleville we found a diner and Karen stopped for a tuna melt and coffee while we headed back to the H8ter* trail. Shortly after rejoining the official route my legs gave up. I progressively got slower until 10 mph was all I could manage. Cory was released to ride at a faster tempo but Cupcake returned the favor of last year's H8ter* by staying with me. When we came out of the trail at PD and Seminole Hwy we were passed by a road tandem and a pair of road bikes. CupCake asked it I could manage to up the pace and stay in their draft. They were cruising at ~20 mph and I found the motor. We were almost back to the overpass when we happened upon the Pilgrim Family Unit. They were out for a lake loop with Rowan in the trailer. I failed to convince Rowan that he should move over so I could sit next to him and have Sheri take us home so we rolled on the final mile or so under our own power. With the tandem draft we'd paralleled Cory as he suffered on the remaining mile or so of H8ter* pave and came out significantly ahead of him. He was quite surprised when he caught us again, perhaps he was miffed a little too. As we rolled into the park the faster H8ters* began cheering for "DFL" and the track-stands began. I've always been a believer that if you reverse direction you're DQ'd, but the KM doesn't enforce or know of that nuance. CupCake gave in and finished but Cory and I were locked in motionless battle. Shoving and leaning was all part of the tactics but Cory U-turned in front of me to attack from the rear again. KM declared a "sprint" in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1... which I won and Cory was given the DFL award. Cory had mentioned he'd heard my phone ring in the final half mile and I checked my messages. It was Karen and she'd gotten back on the bike and was pausing in Paoli to visit an art gallery. Cory's reign as DFL was short lived which would have been a dubious honor as he was the winner of the first H8ter*.
I loaded up the Spare and headed out toward Paoli. I found Karen riding along and she gratefully accepted a ride back to the finish. Upon reflection she's decided riding the H8ter* is unlike anything else she's done. She's done centuries but not suffered as much. She's ridden faster but not has as much drained from her legs. The "H8ter is unique, it lulled me into thinking it was just a trail ride when it is more."
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