We learned a lesson Friday. The three of us started out in arm-warmers but were ready to ditch them after the first three miles – it warmed up in a hurry once we were out in the sun. Chuck opted to forego the arm-warmers for Saturday’s ride but I’d rather have them and not need them than the other way around… and it turned out the sun wasn’t going to play as nice as the forecast led us to believe it would.
We rolled out at 9 again, with barely a breeze (it was tough even getting a direction on it), partly cloudy skies and a temp in the mid-50s (12 C).
Friday’s route had a lot of beautiful scenery, but Saturday’s ride was spectacular. There were four times I’d roll around a corner and my jaw would slacken a little bit. All I could muster in terms of words was, “Wow”. You can’t tell, really, from the photo below, but that hill behind Mike and Chuck was a bear. It was a loooooong way to the top for a mere flatlander and I had to bust my keister to get far enough ahead to snap that photo.
During Saturday’s ride I settled down and allowed myself to relax a bit after a long, short week at the office. We rolled fairly easy, keeping the pace average around 18 for the first 20 miles… until the climbing started. There was no racing to the top of the hills, just an easy cruise up followed by a coast down the other side. It was a gawking cyclist’s paradise. Enough speed to keep it interesting, but easy enough to be massive fun.
We were headed to Frankfort, one of my favorite lakeside towns on the Lake Michigan side. Sadly, when we found half the town to be closed because it was still too early in the season (including one of my favorite restaurants). We stopped by a Jewish Deli for a breakfast bagel sandwich that should have been illegal it was so good. There wasn’t much talking once the three of us had our sammiches in our clutches.
On completing brunch, we rolled down the street to the water’s edge and snapped a few photos.
After taking in the sights for a few, we rolled out for home. We had a whole lot of uphill and some blisteringly fast descents on the way home – usually in the neighborhood of the mid-40s, but with one where I topped 51-1/2-mph (the computer only gave me 51.2). It was a fantastic jaunt back to camp and it was all fist bumps as we made the left into the campground.
For the evening’s entertainment, Mike’s chair broke and he refused to give it up. Every time he sat in it, it’d bend or break a little more to the point he was darn-near sitting on the ground. Chuck and I had quite a bit of fun at his expense.
For dinner, we ate at Bud’s just up the road from us. They’re a little expensive for sandwiches, but the food is excellent. I had a steak and cheese that rivaled the best I’d ever eaten. We recounted the day’s ride and had a few laughs before heading over to Moomer’s for an ice cream cone. Moomer’s is rather special. It was once awarded the national honor as the best ice cream. In the country. I had the butter pecan and it lived up to that hype.
We headed for camp after, and I was watching a movie early, before drifting off to sleep.
Saturday’s ride was the one that really got me fired up about cycling and being up north for the weekend. I was feeling quite blessed to be hanging out with friends, up on an excursion that had only to do with cycling, eating, laughing and having a good time. There were a few tense moments, of course, as you’d expect, but for the most part there was a lot of laughter.
65-3/4 miles (a little more than a 100k). 17-1/2-mph average (28 km/h) and a top speed of 51.2-mph and 2,024′ of up.