Its been a few days since I have had a free second to write anything down. We'll call it the weather.
Getting stronger everyday! Over the weekend had one of the best brick workouts of the season. The story goes like this. I decided the morning of the ride (which was supposed to be 3.5hrs) to map out a new route because for some reason I was getting tired of riding the same ol' roads. After marking out my new path, I embarked upon what was soon to become one of the craziest rides of my life. Ideally, I was going to drop off the mountain and descend into Lenior the land of flats roads, country women, brown water and hot weather then come back up the mountain after a little sight seeing and drop into Blowing Rock. That was the plan. Here's what happened. I started out riding and got to the road that was going to take me off the mountain. Much to my surprise the road was a steep gravel descent into the backwoods of Appalachian. Sketched out I made the call to turn around and ask one of the locals if this in fact was the right road. I found an elderly man on sitting on his lawn mower and asked directions. He informed me that the gravel would end 3-4miles down the road. Since he looked like a trusting ol' timer I figured Father Time knew what he was talking about and took his word. Shoot, what's 3-4 miles down a gravel road if I get to ride on flat roads anyways. The 3-4 miles turned into a dramatic decent down a gravel ravine into a land of nothingness. I found myself sliding down a loose gravel road for an hour in search of the fabled paved road. These words fail to describe the level of pissed off I was at having to walk down this road with my TT bike. Many might think why not turn around? Well, by the time I had thought of that I had traveled 3-4 miles and kept thinking the road was right around the corner. The only person I saw for an hour and half as I traveled deeper into the bowels of Appalachian was two ladies driving a beat up pickup truck. I asked directions and almost got laughed off the road as I was informed I had a long ways to go before I got to the paved road. I pictured the old man sitting on his lawn mower laughing at how he had tricked me. I was reduced to a caveman style vocabulary as I grunted and cursed my way down the mountain. THIS IS NOT A ROAD, THIS IS A TRAIL I screamed every thirty seconds. Finally I got to the bottom and took a right (I guessed that to be the correct way) I biked for another hour before I saw anyone or anything. Then I found myself at a general store where I asked directions. The man working the feed store in formed me that if I "followed the yellow brick road" I would find myself in Lenior before I knew it. Great I thought. I found the only man in Appalachian with a sense of humor. By this time my total riding time was fastly approaching three hours when I was supposed to only ride 3.5 hours. Oh yea, it was 96+ degrees. There were points in the ride that I was riding down the road and the tar on the road was melting and sticking to my tires. To add to my missery I ran out of water for forty minutes. Delierous I found a BP and stopped for water, soda, oatmeal creampie (most bang for the buck). The lady working behind the desk told me the only way I could get back to Boone now was to bike to Wilksboro and take hwy 421 straight up to Boone. So thats what I did. I biked for close to 5hrs 21min in 96degrees down a dirt road thanks to a mean old man and then had to TT across the desert with melting tires to find myself climbing the final 12miles (avg 7%) into Boone. I was supposed to run following adn being a sucker for pain. I jumped off my bike, threw on my shoes and clocked out 6miles (first two miles 5:42 avg miles pace, last two miles 5:34 avg pace)!
Moral of the story: Do not trust an old man sitting on his John Dear to tell you directions when embarking on a 3.5 hr bike ride unless you want to bike down a gravel road for an hour and half.
Totals for this week were high: 25k pool, 13.5hrs bike, 58mi run