From Kathy Brouse:

It is a given that all randonneurs laugh and joke and tease one another about our participation in this extreme sport. The distances are so excruciatingly long, the discomfort so intense, why oh why when we could be socializing, shopping, gardening, spending time with family, do we turn away from simple pleasures and sign up for a 400 km challenge, one of the hardest club rides. Why do we take off at 6am prepared to be in the saddle all day and most of the night? Is it normal, is this sane behaviour or does the obsessive pursuit of the series, the medal, the qualifying rides make us lose perspective sometimes?

You see I am pondering these philosophical questions this morning because yesterday I crossed a line, from the wacky to just plain nuts, yup I went there yesterday, to the dark side. I have officially  joined the group who cycle 200km brevets in the winter, in the snow, yes they have also crossed this line. My line was the Oak Ridges Moraine 400. I headed out with a group of 10 randonneurs yesterday morning, the forecast was not good, rain beginning at around 11am and settling in. I told myself I would enjoy a fast hard run to Orangeville, some good hill training and then I would head home as the rain set in. Which meant I would have to do the other 400 km in a few weeks in order to get my PBP qualifying rides done, something I did not want to do as I have other plans that weekend. But, as it turned out, the weather was great for cycling, a little cloud, a little sun, nothing unpleasant. So I kept going, despite the fact that I had ditched my warmer gear in my car- because I was coming back when the rain started.

But the weather was nice to Orangeville and then to Sharon. It did torrential rain for about 4 or 5 minutes in Sharon while we were snacking, but then it cleared and it was nice again. As I carried on I was even wishing I had purchased sunscreen at the Sharon control. And it stayed nice until 5:30 when it started to rain, but not heavily, while enroute to the control in Stouffville at 7:30. When Arthur and I left the Mr. Sub in Stouffville wearing all the layers we had, even a garbage bag cut out for my head and arms and newspaper stuffed down my front, it started to pour. It wasn’t pretty, it was horrible, it was that type of rain and wind that hits you in the face like a hundred little painful needles. And it poured like that for the rest of the ride. At the last control in Oak Ridges we purchased yoga towels ($30. plus tax) a piece to wrap around our core and more garbage bags to keep us warm and this did provide some relief. My feet and my hands were so cold throughout the night I couldn’t feel them and by the time we got to the home stretch, the only relief was climbing those hills on Old Base Line because the effort brought some warmth.

Arthur and I pulled into the Tim Horton’s at 4:40 am. We couldn’t talk, my mouth would no longer move to form words and my voice was just a raspy whisper at that point, too hard to talk. The relief of sitting in the warm car was intense but the short drive back to my place in Oakville was challenging, kept falling asleep and driving on the wrong side of the road. Fortunately, these are country roads and it was quiet, but I was driving like a very drunk person. I don’t know how Arthur managed to drive back to the city, I hope he rested and set out when he was ready to drive safely. I don’t know about the other people on the ride. Michael T and Smiling were ahead of us and must of made it back as, we did not see any bodies on the road in the last 100 km stretch. I hope the others made it back safely and that they will contact me because I am concerned, especially Charles because he was riding on his own most of the day, last seen at the Sharon control.

Thank you Arthur for sharing the suffering yesterday and for letting me wear your leg  warmers. He was sensible enough to pack boots and rain pants but would have been warmer if he had not handed over his leg warmers to me. You are a true friend, many thanks. The silver lining to all this is the completion of the 400km qualifying ride, all done now, yippee! The dark side is the positive proof that I crossed a line yesterday and this sport has made me lose perspective on decisions that affect my health and safety. A more sensible person (not a randonneur:-) would have turned back at Sharon (but, it was the second control, almost half the ride done) or phoned a friend to bring them home.

Now I have the Simcoe Cottage 600 to look forward to next weekend, the big ride in black bear country but we will all be safe because Liz is bringing her super duper bear spray. She says she will fend off the bear while we take off and wait for her down the road. Clearly nothing nuts about Lizzie, just a normal girl who enjoys to wrestle with black bears on a group ride!

I decided to ride the Huron Chapter’s Frosty 200 as a permanent this past Saturday. The one and only previous time this one ran was in late January 2011. I remember driving down the 401 in the dark, towards Tillsonburg, hardly being able to see out the windshield due to blowing snow. Combined with a temperature of minus 10, I couldn’t help but start laughing and almost questioning my sanity. Since I’d already ridden with Carey Chappelle and Dick Felton, I knew that I was in good company and we would be forming a happy band of idiots. Also joining in was Brian Brideau (early preparation for the snows of the Great Divide), Dave “Hammy” Pearson (riding with full gearing in the days before indexed shifting became incomprehensible to him) and Jacob Ner (on a bike Friday).

We all met in the lobby of Tillsonburg Arena and pretended that this was a great idea. I started the 2015 version by myself in bright sunshine and cool but not glacial temps. But not white. It was interesting actually seeing the sights once I got out of town. If there were 5 other riders with me I would have been able to see them as well. With a fairly strong SW wind it was work starting out riding both west and south towards the lake. Really? I probably wasn’t moving a whole lot faster than the first time. But not white. There are surprisingly a lot of hills in this flat part of the country. Not long but short steep kickers. I passed the spot where Dick (who was riding a fixie) had to convert his bike to a single speed with a free wheel after doing his impression of a gerbil while slipping and sliding down the hills. Further on I remembered the hill where I realized that having fenders on wasn’t such a great idea since they kept getting jammed up with ice. Felt like pedalling with the brakes on all day. I had to kick out the ice every 10 or 20 km at times. The spot where Carey ran into someone and bent the forks of his mountain bike straight back. He fell down since his seat was so high he couldn’t get off easily. He forgot his seat and post so had to borrow one that didn’t quite fit properly and had to be hammered down not nearly far enough. The joke all day was whether we would need a surgeon or the Jaws of Life to remove the seat from his ass at the end of the ride. I’ve seen the same bike still unused in his garage with the indentation from his prostate still evident on the seat. This was all on the way to the first control in Port Burwell. Glen Steen met us there and exchanged all of our frozen water bottles with bottles with flowable liquid. He did this at every control. It was hard to drink anyway since I was afraid to take one hand of the handlebar due to the ice. I started this ride thinking that maybe I’d put in a good time under 9 hours but quickly threw that idea away in the wind. Since it was time to relax, I decided to go down to the dock to have a look at the old submarine Port Burwell is so proud of. While walking around and checking it out I was joined by an old guy who became my guide. While admiring it I asked him if they planned on painting it soon since it showed a lot of rust to which he replied that they want to keep it authentic. I said that authenticity still rusts out and eventually sinks. He didn’t seem too interested in talking anymore. Another great friendship aborted I guess. After having a quick bite to eat at the control restaurant it was time to ride again. Quick turnaround time of 55 min. Pretty much set the tone for the rest of the day. Still not white.

I thought that I might have a nice tailwind along the lake to the next two control stops of Port Rowan and Port Dover. Nope. Swirling at best. Get up to a decent speed and up comes a 2 or 3 minute gust to put me back into my place. Rode down the road which had a foot or two of snow last time. Took a half hour last time but 5 or 10 minutes this time. Not white. Last time we arrived in Port Dover looking forward to a steak and a beet in the Norfolk Tavern but we only had about 5 or 10 minutes before the control closed. Bag of chips and a swig of unfrozen water delivered by Glen. This time though I asked myself what would Carey do now with time to spare? Time for a pint. The tavern was full of leather clad bikers so I fit right in. The bartender asked me if I was with the band (free beer?). I must have had that ruffled just got out of bed at three o’clock look about me. I walked up to the bar, squeezed in and ordered a pint of Keith’s and a veggie wrap. How’s that for blending in? Thought about another but remembered the headwind all the way back to Tillsonburg. While I was getting my bike, near the patio, a bikerish waitress asked me what I was doing and was clearly awestruck and mesmerized by such a specimen as myself. The guy beside her wasn’t. He mumbled something about him being able to do it to which I said “not in a million” judging by the humongous gut hanging over his Harley belt. I rode away pretty quick. Still not white.

The ride west was taxing but it was still good to be able to see the sights. Not white. Or dark. I even took a wrong turn and had to backtrack at the same corner we screwed up at last time. The Tim Hortons, in Delhi, control brought back memories of being tired and not a lot of talking going on due to frozen lips. Even sat in the same seat. The nostalgia was carrying me away. The last control was in Brown’s Restaurant on the way back to T-Burg and was open this time. Glen signed the cards in the dark beside the road last time. This was after having us turn east when all we wanted to do is ride west and finish. I remember last time having to take my tinted ski goggles off to see at night and feeling my eyeballs start to freeze or the eyelids freeze shut. After arriving back at the arena in Tillsonburg, I was able to find an arena guy who opened up a hockey dressing room so I could have a shower. So what if it was the women’s. I’ve been there before. Ask Liz. Last time we did the same thing. Dick even took his bike in the shower with him. I showered quickly to give them the privacy they needed. All in all it’s a great route and thanks to Glen Steen for putting it together. Still not sure I’d want to do it again in January though.

Terry

For anyone who was out on a bicycle this past weekend…..they would know what a great couple of days for cycling it was!

Simcoe Chapter routes are definitely ones to rave about – thanks to those who came out to enjoy the back to back 200 and 300. Going around Lake Simcoe on Sunday made it feel like we were in the heart of summer – the beaches we cycled along were packed with swimmers, sunbathers and families enjoying beach activities. Linda and I can also happily report that there were opportunities for ice cream (although maybe not as soon as we would have liked), and even a Dairy Queen in Keswick! The folks from Windsor area said it was definitely worth the drive. Randy Akins is a Barrie local and has been enjoying these routes as training rides – lucky guy!

One crazy thing that happened to me was that as I was coming down a “double hill”, just cresting and going into the second descent, there was a racoon making its way across the road. In that split second, (and now I truly understand why they call it a “split” second – it goes so fast), everything happened at once. It would have been best for both of us if the racoon had just let me zoom on by, but…..no, the racoon made a bolt. He ran into my front wheel and down I went, but not before running over him with my rear wheel. With a lot of snarling and hissing (racoon cursing?) he went into the bushes and then went quiet. I did not bother to investigate. Just then Arthur and Jerzey came along and Arthur offered me some antiseptic wipes to clean up the road rash on my knee and leg. Arthur has been carrying this emergency First Aid kit for 3 years and he was happy that finally it proved not to be in vain! As for me, once again I feel very fortunate that the outcome was not worse. I am not sure about the outcome for that racoon.

Liz Overduin

I have never heard a Randonneur say how much they loved a 1200 km brevet from beginning to the end as much as Chris Cossonnet did on the Sunshine 1200. Today he sent me an e-mail saying how excited he is about doing the 600 next week-end! It’s like he was born for this sport! Chris and I got along GREAT during the ride, no problem staying together and taking turns leading. For me it was from 12-4pm and Chris led from 8pm-12am regularly. His GPS was finally working perfectly and he loved having it. Scenery … INCREDIBLE! We went to Jimmy Buffett’s Margaritaville in Key West for a Cheeseburger and a Margarita the day before the event.

Met a number of the Randonneurs from Japan, California, Texas, Florida, Scotland, Australia, Quebec etc., The ride started at 4am, so we got up at 0230 and went for breakfast at a Denny’s. There we met a number of other Randonneurs. After breakfast we headed to the Southernmost Point in the Continental U.S.A. for the Official Start!

The ride up from Key West to Miami was breathtaking! The bike lane was plenty big enough to keep everyone comfortable with traffic. Surrounded by water and watching the Sun come up … Awesome!

Once we were inland, we dropped in on a Randonneur being picked off the road and taken to the hospital after running into the back wheel of another rider and crashing. I called Dick Felton to let him know the story and asked him to send a Volunteer to pick up the Randonneur’s bicycle. Entering Miami, we were on bike lanes until we got downtown, then we joined the regulars on the road to Miami Beach … Awesome!

Today, my goal is to take Donna and Erika to Miami for a week and head to Key West for 2 days … I LOVED IT THAT MUCH! Chris and I met a Randonneur from Quebec who was doing this 1200. He didn’t speak English, so Chris was the one who communicated with him. This individual got lost in Miami, DNF as he missed the closing time for the Control in Northern Miami and found no one who spoke French when he was trying to find his way. He called a Taxi and then unexpectedly a couple of Volunteers found him and offered him a ride to Daytona (next Control). He said No because he had a Taxi on the way to pick him up. $230 US later, he was in Daytona! Chris and I also met a Gentlemen from Australia who was doing this 1200 and told us how much he enjoyed being there. We had dinner with him and the Quebec’or the day before we went from Fort Myers to Key West. The Gentlemen and I discussed the importance of drinking enough water but not too much during an event like this but somehow he disappeared north of Miami and was found on the front lawn of someone’s home …the Lady called police who eventually called an ambulance to come pick this guy up … he didn’t know where he came from or where he was going. Dave Thompson sent an e-mail out letting us know his wife had flown to Florida to join her hubby and wanted anyone who rode with him to provide some answers … All of this happened in the first 430km, the sunshine and heat was having an effect on everyone, 35^oC and higher all the way! Chris and I purchased Arm Protectors (from the sun) and made sure we put on lots of Suntan Lotion where ever our skin was exposed. Everyone knows the infamous Bill Olsen, the Randonneur who completed 8 1200s last year! Chris enjoyed meeting Bill and we stayed together for a few hours before Bill dropped off the back.

How HOT was it? … Bill eventually called it a day and headed back to New Jersey. In the evening and later the first night we were able to find padded chairs and couches along the way to grab the odd 15-30 minute nap. Just to let you know … I am totally a Wool Jersey FAN!!! A number of Randonneurs and Volunteers asked Chris and I, if these were too hot to be wearing and the answer was NO. We each carried an extra water bottle to shower ourselves when we were feeling the heat; the Wool Jerseys maintained the moisture for 1/2hr to 45 minutes, compared to the regular cycling jersey which stayed cool for 10 minutes at the most! Chris only had 3 Wool Jerseys so wore the regular cycling jerseys for the last two days and confirmed how much hotter they were! Of course feeling great in this HEAT had a teasing effect, every time “Larry” a Volunteer drove by us or saw us at a Control he would yell Bha..Bha..Bha..! I had thought the ride from just north of Daytona back to Fort Myers would be boring and not very scenic … I was totally wrong!

Rolling hills, Great little towns to pedal through and friendly people all along the way. Chris and I left the route in one small town to visit a Coffee Shop / Bakery … WOW!

We returned to the route and headed towards Fort Myers. There was a stretch 14miles long through a National Park … no vehicles allowed! Just a warning!!

At the last Hotel before the final day, Chris and I took 4.5hrs to sleep then hit the road. Just leaving town, we noticed a couple on a mattress … in some front yard …hugging each other and watching the sun come up! I asked Chris if he thought that was a Secret Control!

I don’t know if it’s just me, but this 1200 was AWESOME!!! I can’t wait to do it again! FLORIDA – I now know how beautiful this State actually is!!

THANK-YOU TO THE SUNSHINE 1200 ORGANIZERS AND VOLUNTEERS! I KNOW THE EFFORT PUT TOWARDS DEVELOPING AND SUPPORTING THIS EVENT IS MORE THAN ACTUALLY DOING THE RIDE!

Carey Chappelle

Aka Bikes, Bowling, Beers and Bank Machines

Last weekend saw two ESR Rando riders join 6 other starters in Port Elgin for the annual Creemore Classic 400 km Brevet.

The forecast said 80% chance of rain, and this time the weatherman got it right. But really, the rain was light and sporadic. Nice lunch in Owen Sound at 100 km was followed by a screaming descent into Beaver Valley and a long climb up into Eugenia at 170 km.

It was at the start of this climb that Sean from Hamilton failed to unclip quickly enough and toppled onto his hip. We’ve all been there

Nice rolling hills into Collingwood.

And here’s where it starts to get a little different.

Stopped at the Collingwood Bowling Alley for a tournament. Tried my best but only pulled off second place. Terry got first by 10 points!

Rolled out to Creemore and a great dinner at the Old Mill Restaurant. Extra mashed potatoes please. Most everyone else had a pint or two. Would have made me too sleepy with 150 km still to ride. Back to Collingwood and the Village at Blue Mountain. The cafe was closed so we got cappuccinos at a night club. Lights on at this point until the end of the ride.

Many of you have probably done the steep climb at Scenic Caves, but how many of you have done it at 11pm with 290 km in your legs? A nice climb and particularly amazing effort from Dave who rides a fixie. Put it back together up top. 6 riders together, with Sean and his wife Rene a couple of minutes back.

A big fog rolled in making visibility very poor. We made a turn off the main road, but Ali was just off the back and couldn’t see us turn, so he went straight. Figured it out in about 15 minutes, called us, and proceeded alone.

Stopping for the phone call split the group up a bit. Dave and John were off the front, Terry next, then Chappy and I coming up last. I tried to bridge up to Terry and found him nearly asleep on the bike, weaving back and forth. A bit of conversation woke him up and the group came back together in Chatsworth at 350 km.

Terry had Chappy and I follow him to the local BMO branch where we went in to the bank machine area and caught about 25 minutes of sleep. Fully recharged, we headed out for the last 50 km. A cold wet foggy finish. We sat down for a great breakfast and learned that Sean and Rene had to stop at about 330 km because Sean had a lot of hip pain due to his accident.

Kudos to Ali who proceeded alone through the night, using paper cue sheets for navigation and made it in 30 minutes before the cut-off time.

In Chappy’s words, this ride was unbelievable.

Tim (Mad Doc)

Ride Report by Dave Thompson:

Are you looking for a long ride on a well maintained road? Do you want to ride where there aren’t any trucks, where any traffic nicely gives you at least three feet or more of space? In fact, do you want a road where the occasional car seems like it’s out of place, like “why is that car on my bike path?” Are you looking for a relatively flat ride where you never have to move out of your large chainring?

I’ve got the ride for you! You need to ride on the Natchez Trace Parkway.

The NT 1500 is an out and back on the parkway with a few very short jogs off to get to Controls. Starting in Nashville Tennessee and turning around in Natchez Mississippi, there are no services on the parkway itself, nor are there intersections – only on and off ramps. Except for those Controls, you’d ride the entire thing without ever seeing a stop sign, a traffic light, a convenience store … you get the idea. There are restrooms with potable water and we made full use of those.

The scenery has a sameness for the entire ride. You cross a couple of large rivers, lots of creeks and over many crossing roads. Trees are well back from the sides, think 50-100 feet in general, and the roadsides mowed. Yes, that’s 450+ miles of mowing in either direction! Now that would be a full time job!

There is also some limited farming in some areas, mostly hay. Elevation never gets much over 1000 feet so there are only a couple of vistas to take in.

We saw some deer, wild dogs, armadillos (mostly road kill), but not a lot when you consider the length of the ride.

Only once did I switch to my small chainring and that was close to the end on the return leg, a grade that I hadn’t noticed as I descended. One other time I had a passing thought of shifting down but the hill on the road in Tishomingo Park to the Control was so short that it wasn’t necessary. Most of the grades that you encounter on this ride are 4% or less; in fact, there’s a lot of 1% that didn’t even register on my Garmin, which treated it as “noise” in total ascent even as the elevation changed.

Only about 22,000 feet of climbing registered on my Garmin over the 1500 km. Ridewithgps counted it as 36,000 — it counts all that low grade stuff. A lot of that climbing is on the first 60 miles which of course is the last 60 miles as you return.

The ride is broken up into, roughly, 450 (French Camp), 300 (Natchez), 300 (French Camp), 225 (Tishomingo), 225 km (finish).

The ride is setup with a long first day. I thought that was going to be a long one but didn’t realize how flat the parkway is. Leaving at 4am, Jerry and I arrived at the French Camp Control around 11:30 p.m. Sleeping was in cabins with several bunks. I went to sleep immediately, as usual; Jerry was disturbed by the noise of other riders. We were middle of the pack coming into French Creek. We got up at 3:30 and were rolling around 4am. 20 miles down the road there as an off-parkway store marked on the cue sheet and we stopped there.

The night control was at Natchez, the almost-halfway point, 750 km give or take. The return leg is very slightly longer because of the off route controls. We arrived at Natchez numbers 10 & 11 of the 55 or so riders. 6:30 p.m. at the Control, we left 7 hours later at 1:30 a.m. A 7-hour night stop is a record for me but Jerry needed the sleep. This Control was a motel and we slept soundly.

On the way back, my mental plan was to stop at French Camp and sleep for a few hours and do the same at Tishomingo. That mental plan was one that had developed along the way. That’s where the drop bags would be. It didn’t work out that way. We arrived at French Camp at 4:30 p.m. (?) but weren’t able to get any sleep. We were alone in the cabin but it was hot. I can’t sleep when it’s hot. We rested for almost the planned three hours but were obviously short on sleep when we left at 8:30 p.m. We found an open convenience store at an intervening control and rolled into Tupelo just before 5am. They opened the M.C.’s at 5:01 a.m. and we lingered there for an hour, catching a few minutes of sleep.

No, we didn’t see Elvis … he was sleeping.

I was sure that Jerry would want to rest for a long time at Tishomingo, the last night stop, but he was ready to get this over with as well. Besides, it was only 9:30 a.m. when we arrived in Tish! We’d taken a few 10-minute naps along the roadway or at the aforementioned restrooms, immediately falling asleep and awakened by my phone alarm.

Leaving Tish at 10:30, we arrived back in Nashville just before 11 p.m., just under 91 hours on the ride against the 120 hour time limit. We were numbers 4 & 5 of the group. We returned at noon the next day to check on the drop bags and only three more people had arrived in between.

The downside to the sameness, of course, especially at night, is that you can get bored. On a more typical ride going through small towns, even if everything is closed up late at night, there is something to see. The Parkway just goes on and on. I have to confess that the last 40 miles was tough mentally; I needed it to be over and the miles just crawled by.

The planning, support and execution were excellent. We were well fed and housed. If I were doing this again, I’d make an off-parkway motel booking between French Camp and Tishomingo for the return leg. Tupelo might have been a good location, or before. A couple of hours of good sleep at that point would have actually shortened the ride. We wouldn’t have needed the naps on the roadside and we would have been riding faster. To a certain extent you get into a sleep-deprived crawl and you roll along and have to remind yourself to up the pace – yes, pedaling does make it go faster!

Obviously Jerry and I were the outliers. We arrived late Friday night while most everyone else arrived 20-24 hours later on Saturday. Just as obviously, I enjoyed myself.

What a crazy “sport”! No more this year!

Ride Report by Liz Overduin:

Earlier this year, I think it was April, Terry Payne asked me if I wanted to do a Super 600 down in the Blue Ridge Mountains with him in September. Recklessly I replied “WooHoo, let’s do it!” A Super 600 is a 600 km brevet with a minimum of 10,000 metres of climbing and you are allowed 50 hours instead of the usual 40 hours to complete it. Kathy Brouse and Arthur Reinstein did a Super 600 in Oregon earlier this summer. Kathy told me about her experience. She said it was the hardest thing she had ever done and that it made the Van Isle 1200 she had just completed a few weeks earlier, seem like merely a 200 in comparison. Is it me, or is it the sport of Randonneuring, but I got two reactions after hearing about their experience. Part of me was terrified at the thought of attempting something so difficult, and part of me couldn’t wait to do it. Eventually I emailed Terry and told him it would not be a good idea for me to attempt something as challenging as the Super 600. A month later I emailed him again and told him I was in! Ahhh, Randonneuring!

The Southern Appalachian Super 600 has everything you could possibly want in a Super 600. Yes, you go up and up a lot. We started the ride on Saturday morning at 4:30 AM. We went up immediately at the start, 53 kms up to the top of Mt Mitchell. It took us just over 4 hours to get to the summit. Then you go down, down, down. It was exhilarating! You can “take the lane” because you are going as fast as the cars. I would see Terry ahead of me going like a slingshot around the curves – it was incredible! I felt like I was on a roller-coaster ride but I was in charge of the speed. We did this over and over for the next 600 kms – slowly up, up and up, then zooming back down! The road conditions were perfect and even in the dark we could often let ourselves get good speed on the descents.

Terry and I also enjoyed meeting people with their Southern drawl way of talking. Terry would tell them what we were doing and getting their reaction was fun. One woman said “Wauw, ah woodn’ e’en be aybell to waulk tha’ faah” which made no sense to Terry and I because we weren’t walking, we were cycling! Everyone was so friendly and encouraging to us, one man gave us bottles of water when we got to the top of a long climb.

The scenery was spectacular, endless views on every horizon of the tree-covered Blue Ridge Mountains with waterfalls and lakes throughout. It seems that every home, whether it was a mansion up high in the hills or a shack along a rocky creek, the main focus was the porch. It’s all about the rocking chairs on the porch when you’re living in that kind of scenery!

Cycling during the night, Terry and I disturbed a lot of sleeping hound dogs who would wake up and howl at us as we approached. Thankfully they were on chains or behind fences. It seemed that when we did get chased by the occasional dog, it was almost always the harmless spunky wiener type dog. Except once for Terry – but that’s his story to tell.

We were very lucky with the weather. During the day it was sunny and warm – bit like the Ontario summer we missed here in Ontario. It would get cooler at night which was great for climbing up and up. When we went down, we had to wear all our warm gear or we would get completely chilled. On the second night, at the start of a big climb, it started to pour down rain. Not a gentle rain, but a pelting down rain with no real warning – one minute it’s not raining, and then it was torrential downpour! I could hear Terry laughing out loud ahead of me as we were going up – he’s like that – I would recommend Terry as a riding buddy to anyone!

One big difference about cycling down in the States is that there are no 24 hour Tim Hortons everywhere. You have to make sure you always have food with you on the bike. When you do see a place to eat and drink, don’t skip it because the next one may not be soon enough. One of the controls on the first night was a post office. Beside the Post office was a Pub with a huge outdoor patio and a live rock n’ roll band. It was after midnight and the band members looked like they just got off their Harleys and they were pounding out some great tunes. Terry and I went inside to fill our water bottles. Then we looked at each other and said “Carey Chappelle would not leave here without having a beer – let’s have one for Carey”! We sat among the pony-tailed, bearded bikers in that outdoor patio listening to the band and totally enjoyed that beer!

I love the sport of Randonneuring – there’s no doubt about it. I would recommend a Super 600 to all of you because even to just attempt it, is a great adventure. It’s tough, but that goes without saying. If it wasn’t a challenge, it wouldn’t be Randonneuring. Even with the extra 10 hours, Terry and I had less than 3 hours total at our “overnight” stop, where we did not arrive until 5:15 Sunday morning! Finishing at 4:14 on Monday morning, almost 48 hours later, Terry and I agreed that it sure had been an incredible experience!

Cheers to you all,
Liz Overduin

PS – (FYI – Huron Chapter’s March to the Marsh 600 has 4,300 metres of climbing and Toronto Chapter’s Haliburton Highlands 600 has 4,500 metres of climbing but…..the Ottawa Chapter has the Lake Placid ride which has 8,000 metres of climbing….hey….just saying….!)