Return to Great Valley...

Dear Reader,

A Wednesday night birthday call and serenading of Anne Rock, quickly turned into a plan for Diane and I also known as the walking wounded these days, heading out to Great Valley.  As we pulled into parking lot 45-67 at the Great Valley Industrial Complex a few drops of rain fell onto the windshield of our Honda. "Figures, I haven't been up to Great Valley in two years, and it's gonna rain when I get here?" Diane said to me with a smile. I laughed and said, "don't worry Hurricane Schwartz says there's a zero chance of rain right now we are good to go." The skies proceeded to drip down on us.

For the uninitiated,  Great Valley is an amazingly fun training crit that goes on every Thursday night and has been happening for at least 25 years. We have always enjoyed it as a great work out and place to learn. This night we just wanted to ride. The group took off with maybe 50 riders, a little smaller than I remember the last time we were here, but still a sizable group. Thirty laps, thirty miles. As we ticked off the miles, the pace seemed to creep up, and the rain began to intensify. I remember thinking to myself, this is probably not the smartest thing I have ever done but it so much fun. Mark Wise's voice echoed in my head like my own personal angry Yoda, "Step into the arena..."

About mid way through, I was struggling to hold wheels, this was hard. I looked over and saw Anne and smiled and cheered for her saying,"Surf's up Anne" and the skies pelted us, and the group now whittled down group kept driving forward.

On or about lap 20, I realized I had crept way too far forward in the pack, and was risking violating my one rule for the night- no matter what, don't stick your nose in the wind. I saw my friend Chuck and I said to him, "dude, if I'm up here near you, I'm way to close to the front." I sat up a bit to roll to the back, and quickly realized there was no longer a pack behind us. The remaining 15 riders or so continued to plow forward through the final laps, and all I could do was watch them pedal away. I had never been so happy to be dropped in my life. There was absolutely nothing I could do to grab that last wheel. I had thrown it all out there. I was cooked.  I was stoked.

A few seconds later, I was joined by Monk and Anne, who had come off the back a few laps earlier. We continued to pedal together. Each of us was soaked to the bone. Each of us was exhausted, Each of us smiling ear to ear. I looked over at my wife and good friend smiled and said, " I don't think the heavy stuff is gonna come down for quite a while!"

We all laughed.

 The skies continued to pour on us, as we soft pedaled our final lap on this night.

thanks for reading.

respect

fatmarc vanderbacon.