What a Difference a Week Can Make

Yesterday the Seattle Randonneurs Spring 300k brevet was held on what turned out to be a beautiful spring day. There were some clouds here and there, but there was also a fair amount of sunshine, and the temperatures were warm enough to entice a few riders to show off their blindingly pale arms and legs.

I wasn't riding in this event. No, I was one of the martyrs who made the sacrifice to the velo weather gods (their names are Campagnolo and Shimano) last weekend by attempting to preride the route in a blizzard. But I was glad to do it to assure perfect weather for yesterday's ride.

Just so I could get a little riding in this weekend, I rode my bike up to Machias where I was helping to man the penultimate control on the 300k. I have to admit I was startled when I looked over and saw this stranger next to me as I was approaching Snohomish.

I had a great time hanging out at Machias and seeing a lot of my fellow Seattle randonneurs as they came through the control. The perspective you get hanging out in a control and watching everyone flow through is so different than what you experience from the saddle of your bike in the midst of the pack of a long brevet. Often when I ride a brevet, I'll see everyone at the start for a few minutes, but we quickly scatter ourselves across the field and then it's not unusual for me to see only a handful of other riders for the rest of the ride. Hanging out at a control is sort of like seeing that MRI slice through the brain of the entire rando club. You can clearly see the similarities and differences between the "fast boys" (apologies for being sexist, but they were all boys) who come blazing through on their carbon fiber race bikes (except Jan of course), and the mid-pack crowd, all smiles and getting their money's worth out of the ride. Unfortunately I had to leave before the lantern rouge crowd came through, but I bet most of them were smiling too since they were getting the most ride for their money.

Even though I hadn't ridden nearly as far as the brevet riders, my ride home felt like the end of an epic journey. I was alone on mostly empty roads.

As the sun set and I rode on into the night, it was cool but I was comfortable without having to put on every piece of clothing I had with me. It reminded me of so many other nights riding brevets as I rode on lonesome roads alone from daytime into night. That experience has always been one of my favorites of randonneuring. Ah, what a difference a week can make.