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George

Today was the kind of day that justifies all those hours of training to tackle this route on a bicycle.  The weather was beautiful and the Blue Ridge Parkway showed its grandeur from start to finish.  The views were everchanging, the mountains were lush with green foliage, and the temps were warm but not hot.  But to provide some realistic balance, a yin to the yang so to speak, I must admit that both Josh and I felt a fair amount of pain today.  

We started off by taking a picture next to the Blue Ridge Parkway Northern Terminus sign.  Unfortunately something snafued and the picture is not in the phone's camera roll.  Then Josh pulled out his newest gadget, a flying drone that can literally hover over and around us while we ride our bikes and film footage from cool and otherworldly angles.  We only used it for a half mile or so, and when Josh said to me that he needed to stop to put the drone back in his truck I said I'd keep going as I knew he'd catch back up.  I didn't see him again until mile 24, which surprised me some bit- but I figured he must have had to stop for a long time.  It turns out he was just off to a sluggish start, but once he did catch up he kind of came to life and really started cranking.  Once again I just had to let him go as he's generally riding around 2 mph faster than I can most of the time.  But that is no problem as I've told him repeatedly to just wait up at an overlook every now and then, and we also rendezvous at our pre-planned sag stops.

I was kind of the opposite.  I started off pretty well for the first several hours, but then hit a bad patch between miles 35-61.  Everything hurt! My neck hurt, my back hurt, the backs of my arms hurt- and the worst was my butt hurt, or at least everything making contact with the bike seat!  Here I was surrounded by some of the most beautiful scenery on earth but I wasn't able to focus on anything other than my pain. I definitely threw myself a pity party, all the while reminding myself of the folks we're riding in memory and honor of- cancer victims and patients- and how they would love to be in my position instead of their own.  It worked enough to bring me to sag stop 2 at the base of one of the hardest climbs on the BRP, Thunder Ridge.  

At sag stop 2 I made the decision to change cycling shorts. Plus I got another fabulous PB&H sandwich and some Cokes.  Finally, I downed a bottle of Josh's secret climbing weapon- pickle juice.  I hate pickles but I now love pickle juice.  It staves off cramps as its full of sodium and electrolytes.  I even have to admit I like the taste. When I began the Thunder Ridge climb I immediately knew things were better than before.  Thunder Ridge is a 12.5 mile climb with a 5 percent gradient and 3,337 foot elevation gain.  It never levels out, just up, up up.  At the top I found Josh in a foldable chair looking like he'd been through it.  He said he was pretty uncomfortable with foot and saddle pain and that he couldn't wait to be finished.  Unfortunately we still had 35 miles to go! 

Those final 35 miles had a lot of fast downhills in which we both topped 45 mph.  However, they were also littered with climbs that would see us gain an additional 2k feet of climbing.  I actually looked forward to the climbs here because the descending was killing the back of my neck.  Trying to hold an aero tuck on a road bike is not comfortable, and requires your full attention to navigate safely down.  I saw many deer throughout the day (Josh saw a bear, daggummit... he even made a video) and I was always worried one might run out in front of me at high speed.

In the end we did it- 112 miles and 10k plus feet of climbing.  Neither of us had ridden back to back centuries before and it was good to rise to the challenge!

2 stages down, 5 to go.

Josh

"It turns out I'm tough as shit"

That's what I was thinking about while riding up the 13 mile "Thunder Ridge " climb. It starts at the James River, the lowest point of the BRP, and rises 3500 ft to the weather station on the top of Orchard Mountain.

 In my head it was my nemesis. Last month I came to the area and climbed it and I had one of the worst rides in the last 12 months. I was nearly a heat injury, ran out of water, and ended up stopping to rest no less then 6 times during the climb. The only reason I didn't quit was because my truck was parked at the top. That ride really shook my confidence and I was very nervous about how I would do that ride again; but, this time with 18K and 200miles in my legs before it. That ride was a sojourn of despair...like many cancer patients. For others the sojourn isn't temporary though. 

My family bought my mom some yellow socks that say "It turns out I'm tough as shit" sometime during her grueling cancer treatments to lift her morale. They also fit her character.  That woman has been through a lifetime of medical complications in the last 3 years. 

While I can never even hope to be nearly as strong as both my parents are, I just kept repeating to myself "It turns out I'm tough as shit" the entire 83 minute climb from the river up to the weather station at the summit. It was a super hot and relentless climb. Eventually I made it to the top and bested my previous climb by more than 20 minutes. 90% of climbing is half mental.

Today by the numbers:

Wildlife: Deer, adult, 3. Bear, black , 1. Squirrels, road killed, 4.

Calories: 4951 kcal

Food Consumed: Cheetos, mini bag, 1. Juice, pickle, 4. Sandwich, PBJ, 2. Pizza, leftover Ledo's, 3. Ruffles, mini bag, 1. Newtons, Fig, 6 (3 two packs). Cup, peanut butter, 5. Coke, mini, 3. Chips, salt-and-vinegar, a few my daughter shared with me (that's not my jam).

Fellow Cyclist: 8, all North Bound

Max Speed: 48.1 mph, average speed 15.7 mph

Ride Time: 7: 11: 29

Average revolutions: 82 RPM, total RPM 37, 064

License Plates: 

USA: we added Nevada, Alabama, and Washington state. I should also add that Washington, DC should be updated to yesterday's showing.

Canada had another strong showing today by adding Ontario, eh?

Completely unexpected was an older couple decked out in every piece of leather Harley Davidson gear you can imagine. My mind immediately placed them as being from Kentucky...turns out my grandma was right and you can't judge a book by it's cover...the language they were speaking wasn't drunken Kentuckyian...nope, they were from Switzerland!!