After only getting lost once for each of my digits, I managed to get to the meet-up point, where people slowly turned up in drips and drabs. They weren't a particularly loud bunch, but I wasn't really in it for the banter. Most of them seemed to be racing fairly regularly, and the surprising lack of truly 'bling' bikes I saw I took to be evidence that a lot of these guys had separate training and race-day wheels. Hairless legs and zero-percent body fat were side-by-side with alloy frames and 200mm steerers.
We were off with almost instantaneous approval, leaving me without time to even turn my gps tracker on (not that it would have counted towards anything, being a bunch ride). For the first half hour, progress was swift and easy into the wind, the group turning over well on flat ground, averaging above 35kph. At least - it felt easy. Occasional checks of my hrm revealed I was actually running in the low 170s coming up toward the front of the pack, but I didn't think too much of it. Word was, we'd just be taking it steady.
As we turned south and started to climb, I started to slip toward the back, but, hearing heavy breathing on my shoulders, I knew that I couldn't have been exerting myself much more than the others. At the top of the climb, I was a bike-length or so back, which was a shame, but not totally unacceptable.
The big surprise came as we hit the descent/flat with the wind behind us. The speed picked up rapidly, and, not knowing the road at all, I started feeling uncomfortable in the bunch as speeds topped 30mph. I allowed myself to slip to the back, to give me room to manoevre.
Then I started to drop off the back.
Hang on, what's going on here?
I couldn't work it out. I wanted to blame it on aerodynamics - on the tall head-tube of my bike, of the peak on my helmet. The basic truth was obvious, though. These guys had an extra 20 or so Watts in the legs that I didn't have.
It was excruciating. With the benefit of hindsight I can see several places where I went wrong - I wasn't changing gear, and as a result my cadence dropped down into the 70s - way off my optimal. I should have sprinted back and tried to hold on, but I was too worried that I would blow up before I covered the distance. I could have found a way to go faster. Surely.
I guess perhaps part of me was expecting them to wait somewhere, but they didn't. As a matter of fact, they turned around at some point and passed me in the other direction, but not knowing the route or where they individually lived I thought better of turning and tagging on to an unknown destination and instead took the road that I knew.
It was a humbling experience. It's been a long time since I've been dropped like that, and I can't even remember the last time it happened on the flat.
I don't want it to happen again.
My average speed for the ride was 34.6kph, so despite the moving wind shield the whole time we were riding west I still couldn't hit my Wales target. I did stop a couple of times to wait for people or navigate, but that in no way compensates for the shelter I'd received. Without the bunch, that average would collapse.
My legs hurt a rare amount the following morning, so perhaps it was worth something. At any rate, I have a new target.
Good trails!
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