RIDE REPORT (archive) ---- SAN FACUNDO 2016 -- September 17th --- 100mi in 5hrs (save your cycling soul)

First, let's get a quick sketch of the main characters in this epic ----- at this point, it's not all that clear who is protagonist, and who is antagonist --- it's possible that they have struck some sort of deal to join their forces against us, but it's also possible that our Saint is just not strong (or cunning) enough to overcome his adversary.

San Facundo ---- saint & protector of the 5hr century ride.  A day like yesterday, with 5 flats for 14 riders, makes one wonder if he takes his saintly duties seriously or not.  Then again, we didn't give him a proper prayer before we rolled out at 5:51a from Rustica --- somebody forgot how to search for the word "Ode" to find the prayer attached to this email, which has been printed and distributed in years past to all riders.  Budget cuts and general incompetence meant there was only a brief overview of San Facundo provided to the crew --- many of which were experiencing this event for the first time.  Is he a hand-on kind of saint or not?  We don't know.  Does he take his sainthood seriously or is he a bumbling B-lister like the angel in "It's a Wonderful Life"?

Garminski ---- mythical and very likely diabolical spirit that rides the course at a steady 20mph regardless of wind or hills, makes no stops, and completes the ride in exactly 5hrs.  Some riders track him on their computers --- letting us know where he is along the way --- are we behind by 4 minutes or ahead of him by 3?  When we pass him we don't see him.  Whether he is with us or against or against us we're not totally sure, but it doesn't matter in terms of his ability to totally play havoc with the minds of the riders, tempting them into minute-to-mile calculations over and over again. Nothing tells us for sure if Garminski even cares about our finish time, but it's widely believed that he is more then a bit evil and in a rivalry with San Facundo, motivated to create an advantage for himself as he, in his steady pace, seeks to finish first in 5:00:00 hours.

On a day like yesterday --- when we lose a rider to a derailleur-breaking crash at mile 7, then get the first of five flats at mile 7.1 --- that it continued through mile 75, emptying several CO2 cartridges, and drawing down our supply of tubes, is something outside of the expected results on an average day.  You can see where one can become suspicious -- it's not hard to believe that just one of both of these characters has a hand in it. Garminksi from competitive spite, or San Facundo's wrath for not being properly praised.  You can see where a rider's faith in the protection of a saint can be pulled into a shameful state of doubt.

Yesterday's group assembled at Rustica Bakery at 5:45a and rolled at 5:51a after a brief few words of nothing in particular --- short mention of Facundo (coudn't find the prayer), quick question to Pasdo on the route and how he was going to wear reading glasses & cycling glasses at the same time, and then we rolled.  Westward bound under nearly fully waxed moon directly ahead of us, above the tree-covered trail. 

RIDERS for 2016 --- 

1. Nick Garbis -- cermemonial convener
2. Mike Pasdo -- routemeister
3. Fritz Westphal
4. John Deering
5. Doug Malmgren
6. Ladric D Grant
7. John Dunn
8. Mike O'Day
9. Nick Morison
10. Sam Morgan
11. Bryce Kryzer
12. John Glynn
13. Kevin Ehlert
14. John Hammje
15. Adam Cincoski

• Michael Sullivan -- lead out orange brigade
• Paul Wegner -- lead out orange brigade
• Dan Gold --- official Garminski spotter at station Rustica
• Rider names done by memory --- any omissions are unintentional --- as you know, roll call was not taken and we don't need no stinkin' bib numbers

      **** at the request of the riders named John, I am not disclosing who amongst this group was afflicted with flats, crashes, or mechanicals --- except where stated below.

THE ROUTE: https://www.strava.com/routes/6558079

I mentioned that we lost a rider to a crash early on -- around mile 7-ish the path crosses a street then turns sharply and John Doe 1 slipped off the far side where the ground was a few inches lower.  He went down, thankfully without injury, but his derailluer was broken off.  After confirming his condition and instructing him on the Uber app, we rolled on.......about 100 yards ... where the tire of John Doe 2 let loose a hiss.  We stopped and fixed that one.  Then we were onto Excelsior Blvd headed west.  John Doe 3 flatted, repaired and flatted again when it became clear that the tire had been damaged during the crash of John Doe 1.  We "booted" the sidewall and carried on.  

By mile 10, Garminski was ahead of us by about 15 minutes -- somewhere rolling through Eden Prairie.  It was cool and not quite misting, and not foggy, but the bottoms of the gray clouds were touching the road. 

Once we were rolling, the creative chaos approach to group riding tweaked something inside Sam's head and he shouted out something clear and memorable (not sure what it was, but it worked), and this group of a dozen-plus riders began a smooth paceline rotation in clockwise or counter-clockwise fashion that we kept pretty much intact for the next 90 miles.  That accomplishment alone should count as supplication to the Saint!  We became this long oval of beads on a string passing though his hand, flowing steadily up one line then slowly falling away down the other line until the bottom and then back up again.  The steady and calm repetition, a ritual without words. There's not much you can say to each other when you're moving in opposite directions.

At mile 50 we were approaching Waconia or Watertown or somewhere else on a country highway, rotating smoothly.  It was 8:24a -- which means Garminski was 3min ahead of us.  Given that we were headed into the wind on the way out, and that we had dropped significant time to his pace in the first miles, this was pretty good news.

We stopped in Watertown at a grocery store to replenish.  We've sworn off grocery stores in the past since they are a sinkhole of time --- vowing to only stop at gas stations or not at all.  But the temptation was there, and our judgment impaired, we stopped, we poured into the store and fanned out to find Snickers, fruit, drinks, bathrooms, fried chicken (okay, maybe not the last one).  But we were feeling good. The wind was about to become our friend and we had closed a significant gap.

The next flat was outside Waconia, and as the wheel went back on the bike, and everyone looked up, the sky had suddenly cleared to blue and the sun lit up the road ahead.  The wind pushed us up the rollers and we pushed eastward toward home. The road conditions, however, focused everyone's eyes away from the skies --- but we were moving out nicely holding 25+ and passing Garminski along the way.

At mile 75, it was about 9:30a, leaving 1:21 to do 25 miles.  Totally doable....maybe 5min ahead of pace.  Feeling good and time to start to firing it up. 

But outside of Excelsior, we had to relent to the slow leaking tube of John Doe 2.  We had (foolishly and this means me) tried to top it off with air a couple times before finally changing it out. While our heads were down, Garminski rolled past us, through Excelsior --- even through the street festival --- he passes through people's bodies apparently, but we had no time to ask anyone how that felt.  We had to get rolling --- only about 15mi and the task of catching was now north of 25mph average.  Familiar roads, strong riders, tough but achievable.

And then the group began to splinter.  I was at the front coming over and down some familiar rollers that had some new seal-coat chippings on them, but still we were screaming through north of 30mph.  A couple of rollers later, I was waving Cinco through and then I was falling into no-man's land.  Standing up and pressing on the pedals was like salt hitting a wound the length of my thigh....and there wasn't much power coming out despite the pain.  There was no shutting up of the legs as I fell off the back and then didn't make the green light over Hopkins Crossroad. Dunn & Pasdo rolled up as I waited and we kept powering on down Minnetonka Blvd.  Caught another light and Fritz and O'Day were back on.  We passed John Hammje who was on the sidewalk at Highway 169 --- playing Pokemon or something --- and he said he was okay --- then he was in our pack too.

At 10:51a, the 5hr mark, we were at mile 97 --- 3mi back from Garminski -- about 10min off the pace.  We set into recovery mode and rolled the last couple of miles easy and rolled into Rustica at 11:13a with 105mi.  The lead crew was there ---- they were just a few minutes off the pace at mile 100, and probably arrived at Rustica 6 or 8min before we did.  Sitting there outside looking a bit worn but satisfied.  

Nobody cursed the Saint.  Just some ideas on how to please him more ---- ideas for improving our rituals.  Sacrificing a virgin inner tube before heading out --- that idea may have some traction.

Just so you know, Garminski --- he didn't have to wait in line at Rustica either ---- of course not ---- he just walked in and grabbed a latte and pack of cookies and slid out the door before any of us even saw him.  

And San Facundo --- if you are reading this, we don't mean to doubt you, but what pleases you is not easy to figure out. Sacrifices? More riders? We will pay close attention to every detail next year, that is a promise.

Finally ---- thanks to all the riders ---- including those whose names rhyme with John. Without you, we'd each be out on the road alone mumbling to some SOB named Garminski --- okay, maybe that would just be me.

See you out on the roads, paved or graveled, between now and the next running of the San Facundo.

2 Spinning Wheels of Praise for San Facundo!

-ng