Last week I wrote about language and terms. Specifically, some terms that I personally use to describe a bike ride and the environment.
To review:
Butter Smooth. Used in a sentence, “This road is butter smooth.” Meaning, it is very smooth without bumps.
Bombed out. Used in a sentence, “The road ahead is bombed out, so use caution and stay alert.” Translated – there are potholes/broken pavement/rough sections prevalent enough to require strict focus and bike handling skills to stay safe.
Roll/Rolling/Rollers/Incline. Used in a sentence, “the road ahead will roll some.” Meaning that there are hills ahead. Not mountains, but big enough hills that you will notice them.
Jumping. Used in a sentence, “When we pass that bridge, we will jump Loop Road.” Which means, when we pass the bridge we will ride through the grass, through the parking lot and then ride onto Loop Road. There is no option for a vehicle to turn onto this road at this location, but we will do it anyway.
Texture. Used in a sentence. “The rest of this road is a bit ‘textured’.” Translated – Although it is not a ‘bombed out’ road, it is also not ‘butter smooth.’ You will certainly feel the road vibrations through your bike. Even if you have a fancy bike that ‘absorbs road vibrations.’
And now, as promised, we get to the story about a day when it went ‘wrong,’ I use quotes because there were moments of uncertainty for me, but for Dr. Bob it would be much worse. You met him a while back – pure roadie.
It was a small group of 7. We were riding our normal century route, but today it was shortened by about a third for some reason. A ‘spirited’ pace. Dr. Bob had ridden the route once before, but the others had not. I had ridden this particular route more recently than the others, but I had not ridden it (or seen some of these roads) in a few years. Guess it has fallen from my ‘normal’ route list.
We start out on the Trace. The Natchez Trace Parkway is a 444-mile road from Natchez to Nashville and is a National Park. No stops, no billboards, no commercial traffic … a scenic byway. It is similar to the Blue Ridge Parkway but with hills instead of mountains. The Trace is mostly butter smooth roads. We started on the Trace, turned at Port Gibson and then headed south through some big and repetitive hills, past Windsor Ruins and then … a turn. This is when it started to unravel.
I say to the group at the turn, ‘no paceline as there are some large potholes during the first mile of this road … just spread out and ride so you can see. We will be back in a paceline after that.”
Yes, I might have said that the road was ‘bombed out’ for the first mile, and that would have been shorter and more descriptive, but there were new people on the ride, so I probably refrained and tried to use common terminology. Sounded good. Little did I know that ‘bombed out’ would have been taken by some to be an understatement.
In the couple of years I had not been on this road, those potholes had grown exponentially. Yes, to the point where there were many sections that were across the entire road, 30 to 50 feet long and composed only of rough gravel. The old potholes that had transformed into large sections of missing pavement even had their own potholes. We found two dozen or more of those sections and not just in that first mile.
Remember, the pure roadie … no dirt, gravel, whatever. I am just glad the first part of the ride had been so nice … this will pass soon… or so I thought. I knew the road surface would be ‘textured’ later on, but not bad. Well, not bad in my book. Textured is not Dr. Bob’s preferred surface; but to be fair most would choose butter smooth over textured.
We rode on. Then … chip seal. Not just any chip seal – it looks as if they completed it yesterday. The road is so deep in gravel (chip) that you would not assume it is paved. As you know, this is not good on a road bike. Thick gravel and skinny tires (especially with a hard surface underneath) can make your front wheel ‘wash out,’ another term, surely more common, that means your front tire would lose traction and slide sideways. Usually this ends poorly.
We rode this gravel/chip seal for miles … maybe 8. Dr. Bob might remember it as 50 or more miles. There was no turning back – we were committed. It finally changes, and a sigh of relief is had. For him, regarding the surface and for me, regarding his opinion of me.
Then – time to ‘jump’ the Trace. We could have ridden further and used a busy 4 lane to get to our destination, but the traditional route was to stop at this underpass and ‘jump’ the Trace. Remember, the Trace is butter smooth and beautiful. At this point the ‘jump’ means walking up an embankment that is about 30 feet tall and composed of grass/dirt.
White shoe wearing roadie is not pleased with that. We start to walk up – I am leading the way. I feel a stick poke me in the ankle and I ignore it. But it does not stop. I realize it is not a stick; I am getting stung. I call out that I am getting stung and run up the second half of the hill.
My warning was no warning because by the time I realized I was being stung, the ground wasps were out and stinging others. Who got hit the worst? The guy behind me … my roadie buddy with the white shoes and the dirt aversion. Where? All on his ‘backside.’ I am certain he did not use the medical term for it though. He left his bike and ran back down. Not one sting; many more than ‘just a few.’
I was at the top – looking down. They were at the bottom – looking up. Some might have expressed some displeasure in a verbal manner. Dr. Bob had to retrieve his bike … and everyone had to come up to me. They chose the other side this time.
Good news? Dr. Bob is tough. No real complaints. Just a simple, quiet statement, “this is the last time I ride this route.” He rode another 15 miles to finish the ride without a single complaint. The last 15 were butter smooth – if that helps…
Ahh – jumping roads. I guess everything has its risks. I have always enjoyed that route. The chip seal should be ‘pressed in’ by now and the texture, although not butter smooth, should be fine. I have not visited that road since that memorable day. Do I like it? Yes. Always have.
Do I want to invite another person to experience it? Well, there are a few friends that might appreciate the route, but most might call for a mutiny if I took them on it. I need to get back there. I was recently told of an old historic bridge down a rough dirt road just a few miles off of that chip sealed road. It has been a few years. Maybe the roads are butter smooth now…
