What makes a good ride? Is it good weather, fast pace, ideal conditions? These things can help, but they are not guarantee. Conversely…
A few years ago, at about just this time of year, a friend of mine and I had a rare weekend day to devote to a long ride. We each packed some food, and some extra clothing, met early in the day, and started to ride.
We didn’t take up the subject of where we were going, until we were well on the way. We’d already found ourselves climbing the infamous and dreaded Rockaway Road hills, so it just sort of seemed natural to keep going.
“Why not head down to Pine Mountain?” one of us asked. “It’s a bit late for the leaf colors, but it’s south of here. Might be worth doing.”
Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. I should mention that, at the time it was drizzling, grey, breezy, and the temp was hovering near 40 degrees F. But the forecast called for lessening clouds, and a high in the 50s, so we went for it. Besides we were well dressed, and felt good.
The clouds did part, and drift, and the rain receded before us as we rode southward. When we turned onto GA-362, the wind freshened, and turned into our faces. The rain had stopped, but the occasional snow flurry kind of made up for it.
The town of Greenville was closed. Not a big problem, it wasn’t that much farther to the town of Pine Mountain, and we weren’t in any distress.
As we rode, the wind shifted a bit, coming from the north west. It actually helped us a bit; at least once or twice; between long stretches of trying to blow us off the road.
We stopped briefly in Pine Mountain, to visit restrooms and buy water. Then we turned to climb the mountain. On the way up we were sheltered from wind, but we could hear it in the trees. Once on top of the mountain, riding along GA-190, we felt the odd gust or two. We also noted that the clouds had completely departed. It was severely clear, and the temp was dropping. (If it ever hit the 50 degree mark, I missed the event.)
For the fun of it we turned onto the spur and rode out to Dowdles Knob. Our intention was to break out the food we were carrying, eat, relax and rest, then complete the trip back home.
Dowdles Knob was completely exposed to the (by then quite strong) wind. It was chilly. We pretty well knew that if we could get out of the wind, the temp would be quite pleasant, but there was no place to hide. We ate quickly, and then both agreed it was time to put on every scrap of clothing we had with us.
Fortunately, there was some construction happening in the park, and there was an extra large portable toilet available. It wasn’t warm in there, but it was out of the wind, giving each us shelter in which to rearrange clothing.
Freshly fed, and more warmly dressed, we pressed on. We weren’t hit by the full force of the wind again, until we intercepted GA-85A, and began the descent down to Warm Springs. It was, to say the least, a dicey descent. And Warm Springs wasn’t warm. In fact, it was closed. A late Fall Sunday afternoon, with no one about, and everything was shut up. Go figure.
The trip up GA-85, through the big rollers, into a terrific headwind, was… Well it was long. In fact it was long and cold. We spent a lot of the time laughing about the headwind and the weather. Each climb sheltered us from the wind and warmed us, but as soon as we crested each hill, the wind hit us. We had to make power in order to descend. We had to laugh at it.
The town of Gay was closed too, and my friend was developing a desperate need for indoor plumbing. We met a Samaritan in Harrelson. Even though the small lunch room was closing, she let us in and let us use the toilet. Relief!
Did I mention that the clouds were gathering as we rolled steadily (and none too swiftly) northward? They were.
It started to rain while we were on Dolly Nixon Road, approaching Senoia. What was there to do but keep riding and laugh about it? Anyway, it wasn’t raining all that hard. Just another of nature’s practical jokes.
We made it into Peachtree City before dark. We were bedraggled, chilled, wet, and in high spirits. That could be explained by an overdose of fatigue, and being silly with the cold.
Does any of this sound like one of the “Great Rides”? I would describe is as one. I had a complete blast. It’s all in the attitude and the company.
No comments:
Post a Comment