Reston Century 2012

Cloudy, rather warm and wet, Sunday morning was promising the same type of weather that would seem to repeat year after year on the day of Reston Century bike ride.  Typically, such a morning would be followed by a more cloudy weather, which in the late morning would turn completely to sunshine.  At least, that is what I hopped to be the case this time as well.  Not so. About 30 minutes into the ride that I started around 7:00AM, somewhere between Ashburn and Leesburg, near Goose Creek, a substantial rain came down.  In no time we were completely wet. Only later on we realized that this deluge that lasted for only about 10 minutes was just a preview of things to come weather-wise.  Road-wise the preview of the hilly nature of Loudoun Country came in the form of a nearly third-of-a-mile steep climb on State Route 769.  Apart from an occasional sprinkle of rain, the rest of the ride from that point on to the rest stop in Hamilton was rather uneventful. The Hamilton rest stop was supplied with decent food and beverages, staffed with willing volunteers, and overall appeared to be fairly functional.  From the rest stop a Century rider would go and complete the North loop, a ride that reaches the towns of Lovettsville and Waterford, and the South loop that involves riding through the town of Hamilton for several miles, before turning left into the country side.  Both rides would wound up back in Hamilton, at the same rest stop.  The final leg of the ride was stretching from the Hamilton rest area back to Reston.

The North loop  

After completing the first leg of the ride, an approximately 30-mile distance between Ashburn and Hamilton, one could quickly fall prey to the notion that after having roughly a third of the ride behind him/her at that point that the rest will be a piece of cake.  The first few miles of the “velcro” road, my term for State Route 800 paved with some strange pavement that made me feel as if it glues to the tires slowing me down, were a shot over the bow on what might still come.  Getting to Waterford (first time, on my way out North) was wet but relatively easy.  Riding rolling hills passed Waterford was still manageable and not too challenging. So was the riding to and out of Lovettsville. At that moment, a new wave of rain was closing in. In addition, one other thing was also closing in: the moment of reaching the point at approximately mile 50 where there are two options in terms of a total length of the ride, and in terms of riding elevation.  The two options, known for their witty names “less hilly” and “more hilly”, would allow the rider to choose the “less hilly” option by turning right into the Loyalty Road and proceeding to Waterford. Or, to choose the “more hilly” option, stay on State Route 663, and add a few extra miles before reaching Waterford.   Reaching the point of making the decision coincided with another deluge. It was pouring!!! Somehow I missed the Loyalty Road turning point for the “less hilly” option.  I was not entirely sure if that was the Loyalty road; for some reason I had remembered the name "Harmony Road", which was wrong as such road did not exist there. The map that I carried and which got transformed into a quarter-of-a-pound of liability in my back pocket, was of no use. Anyway, the turn did not appear to be marked and I missed the "less hilly" option. Having ridden couple of times in the past the “less hilly” option, always wondering if this “less hilly” (very hilly) is really “less hilly” than the "more hilly" option, then how indeed the “more hilly” option must have looked alike! To make it short, with some curiosity I proceeded straight, thereby choosing the “more hilly” option.  Nothing prepared me for what ensued! What followed was the worst one-mile-or-so climb in my entire life!!! Rain pouring, two other sufferers like myself on my side, the road never ending going up and up, and only up; that merciless road averaging 18% grade… For the first time in a long time I longed for more gears on my bicycle.  Suffer fest at its best.  Could not help but think at that moment of Lance Armstrong and the charges against him. How many times he had ridden in his professional career in the weather worse than this one; on the slopes hillier and more difficult than this one!  Yet, those who perhaps have no slightest idea on how hard, with or without any chemical help, is to climb those hills, cornered him on the basis of hear-say "evidence"…  Finally, my fears that altitude-wise we may end up in Lhasa or Machu Picchu, did not materialize, as after reaching the top of the hill, the road quickly turned downhill.  Still hurting from the monster climb, after a few very short miles, we ran into its brother: another very steep climb, which appeared to be a bit shorter than the first one.  Did I say that the rain was pouring like crazy all that time? Then, the next downhill made me go down wild.  Raiding almost 40 miles per hour downhill makes the rain drops small projectiles hitting your face unpleasantly painfully. At that moment, after those climbs, it did not seem to matter much; just get me out of here.  Another few rollers up and down between Waterford and Hamilton, and I was back! The rain stopped at the moment and life was good again. 

The South loop

This loop, for some reason considered like a formality after the North loop, has its own beauties and challenges.  After several miles of riding down the (old) Route 7, there is a sharp left-turn exit, which almost immediately transports the rider to a country side.  Then, rolling hills; up and down, up and down.  For miles. The rain came back.  Nothing really new. Noticed that after the first rain, any other rain is almost a formality for as long as there is no any other contributing factor (e.g., wind, thunder…).  And it was raining! For several miles there was only a silhouette of a lone rider a mile or so ahead of me. Nobody else around or behind me.  After several miles, I exchanged a few words with the guy. He was wondering where we were and how many miles were left to get back to Hamilton.  Following a rather steep climb, he fell back and I lost him.  The rain was easing up. At the place of turning right toward Purcellville, in a corner building, several fellow riders were enjoying a shelter from the rain. Then, another long climb, fortunately not as steep. However, due to a combination of exhaustion and rain I had to use the small ring to move up the hill.  Then, couple of miles West of Purcellville, the mother of all rains falling that day in the area came in. It was pouring!!! For an hour or so the Forrest Gump rain battered me and my fellow rider whom I caught up with on the old Route 7.  Could not see anybody else besides the two of us braving the weather.  Water was everywhere; off the road, on the road… Then, another element came in: a thunder.  The first clap was rather attenuated by the noise of the falling rain, but counting the seconds from the lightning showed that it occurred  within a mile or two from us. Somehow we managed to get to Purcellville and enter the W&OD bike trail.  A large group of fellow riders was there waiting for the rain and lightning to stop.  We did not stop.  Under the pouring rain and flashes of lightning occurring several times a minute, in relative vicinity, we continued riding toward Hamilton. At the time I was thinking that statistically the chance of being hit by lightning was very small, and that the best thing to do was to keep riding, pretending that somehow all that mess was not concerning me.  This is, continue to ride and try to attract as little attention from the lightning as possible.  These thoughts seem childish now, when I am under the roof, but not so when I was out there, where the only shelter appeared to be the old oak trees, which by definition should not be used as shelter in case of lightning! Then, another group of the riders sheltered under an overpass.  Because of the fact that I was entirely wet, that the storm could last for a long time, and the lightning was occurring less frequently, I continued without slowing down. For some reason, by reaching the last rest area in Hamilton, the rain, again, had stopped! 

Back to Reston

Spending only about 10 minutes at the Hamilton rest stop, and believing that the worst was behind me, I continued toward Reston. Less than a mile later, I came to regret that decision; a new downpour! (I know, I am repeating myself.) While I was merely concerned about the lightning that I had been through on my way through Purcellville, this time I got scared.  A fraction of a second before I could hear the thunder, I heard a change in the buzzing sound from the power line above my head.  Then, almost instantly, a high pitch deafening sound of a thunder came.  One of my fellow riders immediately swerved toward the nearest house calling his friend back.  Several of us continued. The Dry Mill Road, which I typically enjoy at the end of Reston Century rides, could barely be recognized. The pouring rain just kept coming and coming. After another couple of miles of misery, the rain suddenly stopped (around Ashburn). The Sun came up, and birds started to sing… A short time later, after another couple of miles, I began to wonder if all that memory of the bad weather was just a dream.  In Reston, finally! In terms of the riding experience that day, there was a mixture of apples and oranges among the riders I found there. Some people there had no idea what many of us had been through. Rain? What rain? Great food, and another Forrest Gump moment reflected in the phrase “all the ice cream (I) you can eat” ushered by the ice-cream guy, reminded me that after 109 miles, 6h30min, and 6000 kcal life was great!  I am so proud to have earned such an experience, though had I known how everything would look alike I probably would hardly go out for a ride that day.