We all know which event clearly surpasses the other snooze fest. Oh, sure, the AToC has Borats, naked dudes, and sumo wrestlers; but the classic has Dr. George, Peter, Ed, Ben, the lost boys from Virginia, and Al Rodzinski. With the classic, the ride is the crowd.
I have heard about the classic for 20 years and managed to show up once for the start in order to cheer the riders on in my best cheerleader fashion. I always wondered what happened over the next 52 miles.
Well now I know. I can't tell you because the classic is best experienced first hand. I will say that my initial disdain for those who showed up on cross bikes was quickly replaced by envy as we hit the first section single track. Never mind Pennypack Park. Good thing I put the all weather tires on at the last minute.
Remember the buddy system in elementary school that was used for field trips? Always keep track of your buddy? This may come in handy in combat situations as well. Anyway, I lost my buddy M somewhere on Huntington Pike. Steve Liddell and I had dropped off the main group and assumed we were last. As we reached the entrance to Pennypack, I phoned M to make sure she was ahead, but alas she and the Virginia boys were behind us. We tried to offer directions to no avail. Steve and I caught up with the group who were waiting somewhere in the park.
Did I mention it was raining?
Pennypack was fun. Ed, Pete, Al and I were on the winning pace. Note to self: always stick with Al. He's the man with the plan. And a great idea for winter shoes. Mine had encountered catastrophic failure. Next time I will cough up the shekels and buy Goretex.
The ride through Port Richmond was tons of fun. I felt a second wind coming and it wasn't from one of two dead skunks encountered on the ride. As we cruised along a road that eventually brought us to Delaware Avenue, I thought, "Hey, I'm soaking wet, underdressed, but this is a blast."
Then I got dropped like dirty laundry. I started to kind of seize up and could only go one speed--slow. I saw the group pull away and turn right onto Dock Street. By the time I made it there, they were nowhere to be seen. Al and Dr. George had stopped somewhere in the middle of nowhere because Geo flatted for about the 37th time and I realize in retrospect I should have waited with them. Instead, I figured I should stick with the big group in case Al and Geo had a secret short cut and would meet us later. If I'd stayed near Dock Street, they might miss me. I was prepared to check into a hotel at this point, shower, and put on the AToC.
I rode through Center City solo because I remembered Liddell mentioning the ride going down Market Street. When I got to the Girard Ave Bridge on Kelly Drive, I stopped to repair my rapidly deteriorating warmth situation by putting on extra gloves. Misha rode by at 100 miles an hour shouting, "Riders Up." I don't know why he was there since I thought the ride went down West River Drive, but I was happy to see at least one member of the group. I went home via the Bug trail hoping to catch the main group after they went up the Wall, but after a few minutes of waiting at Lincoln drive, departed for the comfort of home. I arrived back in Mt. Airy at 3Pm.
Did I mention the headwind I encountered the whole way down Kelly Drive? Nice.
When I finally made it to Allens Lane, it had begun to snow. No kidding. Snow.
Classic.
M is all smiles before the ride. 
Doctor George showing off the guns.
Bob Goldman ready to go. 
Ben promises to tell me the shortcuts.
1 comments:
Man you got the right last name, you are tough and cute
love
BG
Post a Comment