Rosedale Ride

by Dave Henderson

Jim Spencer said we had a fifty percent chance of rain on Saturday. There was a front that was supposed to come through about mid-day or so and there would be a some rain showers generated by its close proximity to the underlying Gulf moisture. I trust Jim Spencer. He's been my weatherman for years now and he has a feel for the patterns around here and explains it in such a way that I can understand how he came to his conclusions. So you can understand my shock when I awoke Saturday morning to the sound of approaching thunder. I snapped on the TV and flipped the channel to forty-one to see the radar. A large green blob with an ominously yellow center filled the screen and obliterated Austin from our view. Rosedale Ride 2001 would be wet.

The sky was dark on the drive to the start at Samsung and about two miles away the clouds opened up again just to show us it was for real. I followed the trail of cars past well placed volunteers waiving their arms to direct the flow of traffic and in no time at all I was parked and had my bike out. The rain started coming down harder so I got dressed the rest of the way in the car while cold wet drops thrummed an uneven rhythm on my roof. This was to be the first big group ride for my new bike. I'd had it a few weeks but I'd only had it out for about five rides. Just on the weekends. It rained on all but one of those rides so this wouldn't be the first time the new bike had been wet. I know some people wouldn't be caught dead riding their new bike in the rain but I figure bikes are made for riding and its going to get wet sometime so I may as well enjoy it. Very few of my friends had seen my new bike so this would be a first.

By the time I had gotten dressed the rain had stopped so I rolled over to registration to pick up my packet and see who I was riding for that year. Each rider gets a brief bio of one of the students and a sticker with that students name to wear during the ride. Its one of those personal touches that this ride has always had. The line was long so I went to the back and before long was carrying on the first of many conversations that day. Eric Middleton stopped by to ask if I was riding my new bike so I pointed it out to him. He told me "It looks nice".

I said "Thank you".

I took my ride packet back to the car, found the sticker with my student's name on it and stuck it to my wind vest. I was riding for Layla, Kenny Lloyd's daughter. It was getting late so I rolled over to the start and stood around talking with friends and catching up with some folks I hadn't seen in a while. Joe Moore noticed my new bike and told me it looked good.

I said "Thank you".

The announcer thanked all the sponsors and Samsung, our gracious host, and soon the starting gun fired and we were off. I hadn't gotten myself at the front on the line so once we exited the parking lot and started rolling down Parmer lane I found myself about seventy or more riders from the head of the pack. I rolled the big chainring and weaved my way through the flowing mass of cyclists with differing degrees of skill and pack riding abilities. I soon had a small train behind me and we successfully reached the front just in time to turn our backs to the south wind and roll the pace up a bit as others upped the ante to see who stayed and who didn't. I bumped in to Robert Thoreson who I hadn't seen since my mountain bike season ended a couple of months before. Robert told me he liked the shade of blue I had chosen for the panels on the seat tube and down tube of my new bike.

I said "Thank you".

The pace stayed at what I would consider a moderate speed. Not so fast it hurt but fast enough to prevent anyone from slipping away easily. My legs weren't feeling as good as I felt they should but I had no trouble staying at the front or bridging gaps. From time to time someone would push the pace to something resembling a race pace but it never went on long enough to break the group apart. All the real racers were in Fayetteville and it seemed everybody here just wanted a nice training ride. What a concept. Some guy in a red jersey rolled up and told me my bike looked really nice.

I told him it was new and I said "Thank you".

We rolled along like that for the first half or so of the ride until we came upon one of the rest stops. I asked if we wanted to stop here or go the next one. Kenny Lloyd said the next stop was quite a way off and so by unspoken consensus we stopped to refuel. The man who looked to be in charge of that rest stop walked over and mentioned that he thought my new bike was real pretty.

I said "Thank you".

We got back on the road in dribs and drabs and as the group was waiting for chasers, two riders jumped up the road. When we had regrouped we organized a paceline to keep the two in sight. Things went smoothly and at one point we had ten or so of the group of twenty working like a well oiled machine, clicking off the miles in relative comfort. The two dangled about thirty seconds in front of us until interest declined, strength left the legs, or both, and a lull in our pace allowed the two to escape and "win" the Rosedale Ride. We rode the rest of the ride at a reasonable pace and before we knew it the headwind was a sidewind and we were back at Samsung where I ran into James Ezell and Jill Ackerman who both told me my new bike was very attractive if a bit muddy from the road spray.

I said "Thank you".

I changed clothes, grabbed some fajitas and soda, and spent the next couple of hours trading stories and eating free Amy's ice cream with real Mexican vanilla and listening to the live music. I bumped into Bob Whitford who said my new bike looked really good and he liked my choice of blue on the panels on the down tube and seat tube.

I said "Thank you".