I think it’s time for a timely update.
Went to the doctor two days ago down in Boston for a follow-up appointment. This came 5 weeks and 4 days after the initial fracture and 5 weeks to the day from the surgery. Pummeling my body with electromagnetic radiation in order to create a rather rudimentary black and white photo, here’s what we’re looking at:
To me and my untrained eye, it looks just like it did three weeks ago during my last check-up. But that’s because the brunt of the fracture is off to the right (distal) end of the clavicle and therefore hidden by that bunched collection of pins. Additionally, I don’t have any medical training so I don’t know what I’m looking for in the first place. Alas, most importantly, the surgeon is pleased with his handiwork so to the surgeon it looks excellent and that’s all I really care about.
Moreover, I’ve now been given the green light to resume training, which is very convenient, so that I can do stuff like this
…which I interestingly completed before I got the nod to resume normal training. But by that token, I would not call riding the 200-on-100 “normal training” so that’s perfectly fine regardless.
About this ride, let’s see, where to begin. I suppose sometime around 4:30am is a good place to kick off this tale, because that’s when we woke up. I don’t mind telling you that 200 miles is a very long way – especially when tackled in one day. Oh, and if 200 miles is long, then the 338km or 210 miles required to make it border to border the entire length of the state of Vermont is especially long. Perhaps that goes without saying, but I thought I should chime in and say it anyway.
In no particular order, our “team” consists of Ryan T. Kelly of the internet, who was mysteriously suckered into this ride by doing an actual charity ride of 200 miles in length two days before. Tim(othy) Johnson who thought it would be wise to ride his Cannondale cyclocross machine with it’s 50 tooth chainring – you know, for the ol’ 10 hour training sessions characteristic of cyclocross in order to dial in the position for the impending ‘cross season. Me: . And Chandler Delinks, who is sometimes crude but is always hilarious, and happens to enjoy driving a vehicle for 14 hours per day.
After an eerie start, amid thick fog and an ample portion of rain, we were ticking away at a moderate pace with two riders up front, one sitting on, and with Chandler in hot pursuit in a truck. But then with about 203 miles remaining we decided assuming the “breakaway formation” – that is, riding single file with each dude doing some pulling – would be prudent. So we then continued with that efficient momentum and powered away at the entire length of Vermont.
Here is a photo montage of July 12, 2011:
Our quaint and dusty Pine Crest Motel and Cabins.
Inside of the P.C.M.a.C. around 4:47am as we stuff ourselves with coffee, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Life Cereal, coffee, more coffee, and yogurt. 4:47am is a great time to second guess the impending day.
Here I am practicing my poor posture. Yup, I think I have it dialed.
Another good time to second guess ourselves, about four miles from the border. Tim, left, is astutely ready to roll fully kitted-up including helmet during the drive. Chandler, right, fires up the documentary machine (video camera), and seemingly cannot stop laughing at us. Who are the three idiots now?!
A very un-busy border patrol inspection station… at 6:03am on a Tuesday.
Aaaaand we’re rolling!
And now we’re still rolling, this time amid artful rearview mirror shots.
Next I will enlighten you to a little secret of the cycling world. I’m about to tell you about the finest ride food ever created: Fluffernutter sandwiches. Seriously friends, complex carbs, simple carbs, and a dash of protein, all sandwiched into an absurdly tasty, err, sandwich. Conveniently, our local northern VT grocer supplied a 5lb bucket of Fluff for the very reasonable price of $8, of which we used about 1/100. That’s perfect because Fluff is basically bomb-shelter food, so it’ll never go bad and now we’re properly loaded for the next 100 editions of the 200-on-100.
And now fast-forward 200 more miles, BOOM, we arrived in Massachusetts. Two-hundred (and ten miles) on (Route) one-hundred, done.
And to the victor go the spoils! …or in this case, to the people who complete nearly 10 hours of riding in a single day go the disgustingly greasy yet still palatable pizza.
BIG thanks to the kindly folks at Strava for helping map and allow this day of absurdity to go on. It’s been talked about for years, but the stars aligned just so and the 200 on 100 was a startling success.