Tuesday Night Throw-Down

I led the group ride last night. Shari's been recruiting volunteers to take over some of her rides. She's been doing it for a long time, and I actually think she said something like "I'm not gonna be around forever!"

I'd ridden the route the day before, carefully noting each turn with the mileage. I learned from previous experience that simply eyeballing a map is bound to lead to confusion. And, hey, it was another chance to ride on a beautiful day.

The riders assembled in the lot, signed in, got cue sheets. I was trying to decide whether to sweep or lead. It looked like a strong group, so I didn't feel too worried if we got a bit strung out on the route.

For some reason, riders are always reluctant to be the first to leave the lot. Why is that? Fear of seeming presumptuous? Or something simpler, like fear of being passed? Anyway, I clicked in and said "let's go." Pretty soon we were rolling down Route 150, and a certain older rider was pulling at a pretty brisk pace. "Some warm-up," someone said as we cruised. I felt good, and it was a pretty big pack.

As I took my turn at the front, I heard other riders behind me chatting. Great, I thought, I literally am leading the ride. Anybody want to help out up here? When do I get to chat? Pretty soon, Tom came to the front, and we rode along and talked. Where are the women tonight? he asked. I dunno, on vacation? So this is what happens when it's all guys, right? We crank up the pace? It was shaping up into some sort of alpha dog showdown or something.

We rolled through Kinderhook, and I pulled out and let the group pass. Good ride leader, right? Keep an eye on everybody. We all looked pretty strong, so no worries. Tom sure did a lot of pulling tonight.

I wasn't sure what to expect from my body tonight, after racing on Saturday. I felt good, and found myself spinning a higher cadence pretty smoothly. I was able to come to the front when the turns approached, and guide everybody through.

Sometimes I feel like it's a fine line between showing off and riding strongly, especially around riders I don't know very well. If a rider sprints ahead, how does that look? I remember that guy a couple weeks ago, on that climb in Malden Bridge. I took the climb at my pace, and he said, "Must be intervals night." No, I'm just doing my thing. Ride within yourself, that's what the cycling sages say. I'm probably just thinking about it too much. But there is much subtle communication within a pack of riders. It really is a very social thing, even if few words are said. I guess that's a subset of that whole "strong, silent type." Maybe my senses are a little sharper, having come off that race. Besides, I enjoy this type of thinking. And, hey, I did loosen up a bit, once I got more comfortable as the "leader." It felt good to show the way, to call out turns, to drop back and survey the group.

The police had set up one of those electronic speed-checkers by the side of the road in North Chatham. I'd sprinted for it the day before, but now, sitting in like third wheel, I felt a bit sheepish about doing it. Rob went for it. He got a late start, but cranked it up pretty good. A bunch of us shouted our encouragement as he hammered away. OK, cool, I'm not the only one who gets excited about little things. It's like being a kid again.

We made it back to the park and ride in under two hours, after riding 37 miles. That's the fastest Tuesday ride that I can recall. A bunch of riders mostly sat in, but, hey, that's fine. We kept a big group together. We had daylight to spare, so there was time for a bit of hobnobbing: I chatted with two guys who had raced on Saturday, and some mountain bikers coming in from the trails across the road. We heard geese overhead, and someone said, "summer's winding down." Still lots of great riding left.