Progressive V: Collegeville

I was dubious about this progressive ride:  I had only done 46 miles/74 km of the previous week’s planned 55/88.5, and another week of poor sleep suggested that I might not be ready for 60 miles/96.5 km of bicycling.  A 20 mile/32.1 km ride often seems insufficient to me; 35/56.3 is no problem, and 46/74 was great, but perhaps beginning to test my limits.

The day couldn’t have been more perfect, though.  I took this picture at 9 AM; it was cool, crisp and sunny, eventually evolving into crisp, sunny, and almost warm.

We rode from the Azalea Garden behind the Philadelphia Art Museum to the Collegeville Diner, and back again.  Saul and Mike and a crew riding with them joined us in Manayunk, rode along amiably, and then variously went on their ways elsewhere.

The bikes in question (except Basil, who was tucked under the table inside).  We weren’t the only cyclists at the diner; the early spring weather had brought out cyclists galore, even at the diner.

We lost one rider to a wrong turn, after which she decided to head elsewhere, and one (this one, I’m afraid) was rescued from her own wrong turn by George (who was following) and Michael, who was sent out from the main party to find out what had happened.  Sigh.

Nine of us made it to the diner, which is clad with a silvery diner-appropriate exterior.  It’s humongous

and endowed with marvelous doors.

The diner was our mid-point destination, and we enjoyed a convivial repast before hitting the trail again.

All along the return trip, the speedier riders regularly re-grouped to meet up again with the slower ones.  I was one of those; I did pretty well until the last 12 miles/19.3 km or so, when I just couldn’t keep up the pace — which admittedly, was a little faster than as described for D rides.  I dropped to a true D pace, and was grateful for the company of a couple of other riders as I poked along at 10 mph/16 kmph instead of 13 mph/20.9 kmph.

I don’t know if it’s the club culture, or just the “culture” on these particular rides, but this is the nicest group of people ever.  My doubts, and my flagging speed, were met with encouragement and great confidence in the likelihood of all going well.  (Tom whipped past me at high speed a couple of times saying “I think I can, I think I can” which made me laugh, spurring me on in the best possible way.)

A friendly, positive attitude has been a component of every ride I’ve taken with the Bicycle Club of Philadelphia, which, unsurprisingly, just makes me want to ride more.  I go to some lengths to meet up with the club, and it’s more than worth the effort.

Basil and I had ridden 61.71 miles/99.3 km by the time we got back to 30th Street Station. He seemed pretty pleased with himself — he was in exactly the same shape as when we’d taken off, in  spite of having handled over sixty miles of roads, asphalt trails, and gravel beds along the way.  Does anything faze a Brompton?

I was half-dead, but so glad I’d done the ride.  Now I know something more about my riding abilities:  60 miles/96.5 km is probably too much to fully enjoy, at least at my current level of fitness, even in cool, cycling-perfect weather.  My optimal distance probably maxes out at about 45-50 miles/72.4-80.4 km).  We’ll see if that changes over the summer.

(Note: I just did the metric conversions for this post, and I’m dying a little bit here.  Point-seven-kilometers and Basil and I would have done a metric century.  Point-seven-kilometers!  If I had only known . . ..  Maybe I should be sprucing up those math skills, too. )