Ride report: Homecoming ride through Fergus and Elora

Route / Event: Sandhills 200 / 200km Brevet [ Ride Log ]

Saying hi to mom on the way through Fergus, ON

"You know, I always forget how long it takes me to get all my stuff together." Michel said, as we assembled our bikes in the parking lot of the Waterloo-based Tim Horton's. We'd arrived from London for a 7AM depart, and I always aim to arrive early for exactly this reason. 

"See? Not actually too early after all!" I replied, playing down my propensity for being punctual to a fault. 

And why not arrive early? Greeting fellow randonneurs at the departure point is part of the draw for me. It's one of the only chances I get to talk to like-minded people; folks who would deign to roll out of bed in the pre-dawn hours and drive to a meeting point before sitting on their bike saddle for anywhere from 8 to 12 hours. These are my people. And yet for many, the departure point  may be the only time I see them all day! 

Randonneuring is, after all, an individual's sport first, and many of it's participants hold true to this spirit of individualism. But others, and I place myself in this latter group, prefer to ride these long distance events in a pack. Not a tight peloton the likes of which you see on a weekend sportif mind you. The packs that form in a brevet are much more elastic, and strictly for the purposes of periodic social interaction. In this way I get to ride my bike and hang out with cool people at the same time -- it's pretty self indulgent. 

Fred & Jeff

I was clear about these approaches to the sport when I invited my brother-in-law Jeff to join us for his first 200km brevet. An experienced cyclist in his own right, having just completed several 100+km consecutive days on the VeloQuebec tour in August, I could see Jeff opting to ride solo, or ride with me. I let him know that my intent was to pack up with a few others today and he was certainly welcome to join us, but that he could ride his own ride if he wished as well. So even when I greeted him in the parking lot at the start of the ride, I wasn't sure if that would be the only time I'd see him all day. 

I introduced Jeff to a few other randonneurs; Michel, Tim, Brenda, Sadrik. Some like Charles, and Gwyneth he already knew from the local Waterloo Cycling Club.

"Oh hey my mom's gonna meet me in Fergus this afternoon" I told him. (This was something I was pretty excited about).

"Yeah, Anne-Marie's going to be with her as well" he replied, referring to his wife, and my sister. 

"Oh cool! So, I guess that means we're riding together today!" I confirmed excitedly. 

Charles was our ride organizer for the day so he issued our brevet cards (on card stock no less!), took a group photo, before we set off. 

Waterloo to Drumbo (0 - 55km)

We were riding as a group of ten or more well into the first leg, which was unusually large. It occurred to me then that this was likely because the club's annual AGM took place the next day. Most other club chapters organized a formal "pre-AGM" ride, where club members would maximize their camaraderie before this event. This brevet wasn't billed as a pre-AGM ride, but by the looks of it, was taking the shape of one. 

I was hanging a little further back from the main pack, catching up with fellow randonneurs who had recently completed long routes. Fellow Londoner John Cummings had finished the 1200km Coulee Challenge in Apple Valley Minnesota the month previous, and I was curious about that. And Brenda Wichers had finished the Granite Anvil -- a 1200km sojourn up in in the hilly region of central Ontario, and much of that without a rear shifter. Brenda conceded that she hadn't done much riding in the weeks since completing that monumental event, and warned me she'd probably be taking it easy today. Tim had doubled back to ride with Brenda, giving me leave to power up the climb and catch the pack. 

Drumbo Control

The first control was an Esso in the small town of Drumbo, which I would have missed had it not been for traveling with a pack. (My Garmin seemed to be missing the cue for the left turn on Oxford Rd 3). A few others who'd been ahead of us had missed this turn too, and arrived at the control a few minutes later.  Charles, accompanied by Lou the Wonderpup, was already waiting at the control, and was stamping our brevet cards upon arrival. (like an actual stamp....on card stock! ) While I was sympathetic to the fact that Charles wasn't riding with us today the way he normally would have, I certainly appreciated the staffed support experience he was bringing to the table. It made the day feel less like a group ride and more like a proper supported event. 

Drumbo to Cambridge (55 - 90km)

The leg between Drumbo and Cambridge solidified the pack of eight riders that I'd be traveling with all day. Sadrik, Victor, Gwyneth, Jeff, Brenda, Tim, Michel, and myself. Whatever scooby snacks Brenda got herself at the Drumbo stop had her back at full speed, and the group of us wasted no time pulling into Cambridge. The stop was at the Grand Cafe, nestled over it's namesake Grand River. 

We'd hit this cafe right at lunch and the place was slammed. A bit of an extended wait for lunch -- I'd ordered a large grilled cheese sandwich that garnered a lot of envy from the table when I finally got back to it. 

Cambridge to Guelph - No gears no fears

Just as we'd hit the 100km mark, Jeff let out an "uh oh". 

"What's up?" I asked. "Something with your bike?"

"I can't shift down" he replied. "It still shifts up, but I don't want to go any higher in case I get stuck in the biggest gear." This was not the course to be losing any gears on. Dubbed "Sandhills" for it's non-stop rollers, the route boasted over 1,600m of elevation. 

"How far are we from the Guelph control?" I asked Michel. 

"About 30 kilometers", Michel replied. 

"Do you think you can make it that far?" I asked Jeff. 

"Probably. Should I just get Anne-Marie to meet us there and pick me up?" Jeff asked. 

"Yes and no" I said. "I think you just ask her to bring your gravel bike to Guelph." I explained to Jeff the rules about self-supported riding. While he couldn't get support just anywhere, it was completely within the rules of the sport to accept outside support at the designated control points -- even something as extreme was a full bike swap. 

Lou, Gwyneth's pup, who followed
Charles around to each control

Jeff, Michel, and I stopped while Jeff made the call for support from his darling wife back home. I looked up the address of the Guelph control and he provided it to Anne-Marie. Given we were still 3 hours out, she had lots of time to make the drive from their place in Elora to the rendez-vous point in Guelph.

Charles pulled up in his car as he was driving between control points. Had Jeff's bike been unrideable, he'd at least have had a lift to Guelph. But I explained that we were arranging for a swap at the control in order to keep Jeff legitimately in the ride, and so Charles wished us well and drove off ahead. 

The rest of our pack had stopped to wait at a T-intersection up ahead. As Michel, Jeff, and I caught up to them, a motorist in a white SUV pulled up beside us and rolled down her window. 

"What are you all doing here?" she blurted loudly. "If I'd hit you, it would have been my fault!"

No one said anything. I think we were all just trying to understand what she meant -- I mean of course it would have been her fault if she'd it us. 

"You can't just stop here!" she said. "Why are you stopped here?!"

"Because it's a stop sign!" Gwyneth said, breaking our silence. 

The motorist drive off enraged, leaving us confused in her wake. Cyclists are often accused of rolling through stop signs. Now we were being berated for stopping at one. We all had a good laugh, shrugged it off, and kept riding. 

"Hey Jeff" I said, a few kilometers up the road. "So your gravel bike...does it have SPD pedals?"

"Yep." He replied. 

"And are you wearing that style of cleat on those shoes right now?" I asked. 

"Oh SHIT!" he replied. 

Guelph Control (136km)

Big Bear Foodmart - Guelph, ON

We rode into Guelph along Watson Rd, a secondary road along the city's eastern edge. Despite having lived here between 2011 and 2016, this was a corner of the city I'd rarely been to. 

My sister was waiting for us as expected, in the parking lot of the Big Bear convenience store. Jeff wasn't able to get in touch with her in time to get his other shoes, so he set to work swapping out the pedals between the two bikes. While he did that I grabbed him a slice of pizza and a drink, and the rest of the riders scrambled into what little shade was available. 

Before leaving, I made sure to tell my sister how much I appreciated her making the drive from Elora to Guelph to facilitate Jeff finishing the ride within the rules of the event. I asked her if mom was still going to meet us in Fergus, one town over, and she confirmed she'd be there. 

We left the last control, still a group of eight. The rest of the ride would be headed through Fergus and Elora, the towns that mark my childhood. This was going to be a cool experience. 

Fergus and Elora

The road between Guelph to Fergus was a slow climb. My GPS seemed locked at about 1% incline for a good portion of that leg. We entered the town passing the new high-school, a stark reminder of how much the town had changed since I left at age eighteen. 

My mom and sister were intercepting us at a plaza on the edge of town. We were in the high heat of the deay and had just spent that last hour slowly climbing to the route's highest point of elevation, so the group welcomed the brief stop. I introduced everyone to my mom, and once again, thanked my sister for her earlier heroics. 

Impromptu family selfie

After the family reunion, we proceeded through Fergus along roads filled with childhood memories. It was amazing how much of this town was still familiar to me. Even though the names of many of the shops had changed, the streets all had familiar names. 

"Big hill coming up" I said to Michel, as my Garmin prompted us to turn right on Herrick St. "I used to deliver newspapers in this area on my bike as a kid. I wonder if the hill is still as intimidating as I remember." It sure was. And to think I used to do that on a 26er mountain bike with 150 newspapers pulling me off-center. Props to my 12 yr old self!

Trestle Bridge Trail between Fergus and Elora

We picked up the trestle bridge rail trail connecting to the town of Elora, making Jeff feel quite at home on his gravel bike. More important childhood landmarks dotted our ride as we passed through Elora. The Gorge cinema, the Elora arena, the scout hall. So many long rides I get plugged into the map and don't really pay attention to where I am, but this area had some many reasons to pull me out of the map and keep me engaged in my surroundings. 

West Montrose Covered Bridge

The final landmark before arriving in Waterloo was the covered bridge in West Montrose. I had been here just a few weeks prior; the bridge is one of many detours on the otherwise contiguous Guelph to Goderich rail trail. But just as it's a nice landmark to start a ride, here kilometer 175 of 200, it was proving a welcome way to close one out. 

As we were pulling into Waterloo, eleven hours into our ride, completion was becoming a foregone conclusion.

"So you've never ridden a 200 before today?" I heard Sadrik ask Jeff. 

"No. I've ridden back to back days of 100 or more, but never this far in one day" Jeff replied. 

"Awesome. Congrats!" Sadrik said. "So, would you do it again?"

"NO!" Jeff replied almost instantly. 

We all laughed. "Randonesia hasn't set in yet." I said. "I'm sure I can twist your arm to come join us again."

randonesia (n). 1. The selective memory loss that sets in after a long bicycle ride, such as a brevet, in which the rider remembers only positive experiences and outcomes. 

Lessons learned from this ride

• Support: Having support is the difference between a completed ride, and a DNF; and sometimes between a good day and a bad one. Make sure you have a life line in advance, and make sure you thank them profusely if you have to make that call. 
• Sun screen: For once I didn't get sun burnt on my nose. Though the zinc-based cream on my nose makes me look like a clown, skin care is much more important. (And besides, Victor was covered head to toe in it, so I really had nothing to be ashamed of). 
• Broken shifters: Wait, did I learn anything about how to protect against, or recover from a broken rear shifter? No, not really on this ride. But stay tuned for our next episode.