Normally, July in Virginia is hot and humid, but this year it has begun with moderate temperatures and low humidity: perfect weather for a century ride.
On New Year’s Day, my son Zane, just turned seven, set a 2007 goal of riding a century—quite ambitious considering our experience in last October’s “Ride Between the Waters” on Virginia’s Eastern Shore. There, we aimed for a metric century, but after 17 easy tailwind-driven miles, stoker Zane announced, “I’m tired.” Fortunately, when we turned around, Zane found his second wind, and we pushed through the headwind to the final rest stop. There, inspired by the sight of many members of the Richmond Area Tandem Society (RATS), Zane turned the ride into a race, pushing with all his might to pass everyone in sight until the ride’s end. Our odometer showed only 60 miles, so I encouraged Zane to ride the two miles to reach the 100 km mark, but Zane felt fatigue and the loss of competition. So Zane’s personal best remained at 60 miles, only 96.5 km.
Our 2007 riding has gone well, featuring many 23-mile round trips to church, plus his first few miles on his very own road single, so I took advantage of a great Tuesday forecast to plan a 90-mile round trip from our Varina home near Richmond to the Jamestown Ferry and back, with the option of riding the extra ten miles to achieve Zane’s century goal.
Feeling a headache, tired from work on Monday and a bad night’s sleep, I forced myself out of bed at six and woke up Zane. He donned his cycling shorts and RATS jersey and went outside to feel the morning air. The 60-deg F temperature felt great to me, but Zane was cold. He put on the arm and leg warmers I gave him; on his own he put on a fuzzy winter scarf. It looked ridiculous, but it was lighter than the jacket he proposed as the alternative, so I let him have his way. Breakfast over, we headed off at 7:08 a.m.
Riding under cloudy skies on tree-shaded State Routes 5 and 156, the air was chilly, even for me. While I pushed hard to keep warm, Zane rode with his hands wrapped up in his scarf. As the sun broke through, we crossed the broad James River on the Benjamin Harrison Bridge, Zane cheered by the rising temperature. At Route 10, 18 miles from home, we stopped at a gas station for some snacks and hot chocolate for Zane.
Riding east on rolling Route 10, the sun rose to warm the day, and Zane’s arm and leg warmers were finally rolled down and removed. We talked about churches and crops, about geography, traffic, and passing lanes. Tired from our rapid pace and a slight headwind, we stopped in Surry for food and drinks before speeding the last few miles to the ferry landing, 49 miles behind us.
Zane, a good reader, had seen the signs for the ferry, but did not realize we would take it across the James. Under a bright sun with the breeze blowing through our hair, the ferry ride was a delight. Zane threw a few Doritos chips to the following seagulls and talked to a few other riders, plus Mom on my cell phone.
The ride home was long and tiring, with Zane and I alternately feeling waves of fatigue, the sun hot on the asphalt roads. We soon reached Zane’s 60-mile record and kept going. At one country store, Zane lay on a bench for a short rest. At another, Zane took a few gummy Swedish Fish candies to the cashier, but she let him have them for free. In between, Zane sat up while riding to write a list of things we had seen on our ride, often asking me to spell the long words. We reached the end of our driveway at 3:58 p.m., the odometer showing 91 miles.
I was ready for a break—very ready—but Zane wanted to press on, so we pushed ourselves around our old familiar eight-mile loop, plus just enough more for our odometer to show exactly 100.00 miles at our final stop at 4:38 p.m., noting that our average riding speed was 14.2 mph As I put our old tandem in the garage, Zane said, “Not enough riding for me!” and grabbed his dirt bike for a quick solo spin about our yard.
Proud Dad? You bet! Cold, but never whining, tired, but never grouchy, Zane’s first 100-mile ride came three years before his sister’s, four and a half years sooner than his brother’s. I turned 50 in June, and so I seem to have a heightened sense of my age and slowly declining physical abilities. But Zane’s enthusiasm and cheerful attitude help me ignore my aches and pains. After riding 100 miles, I may feel like I’m 100 years old, but my stokid’s energy rubs off on me.
DCW
Posted on Wednesday 04 of July, 2007 [22:51:26 UTC]
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