Challenge Met

Alert the media! We have survived the Greenway Challenge!

But let's start back at the beginning which is actually about Tuesday - the day both Deb and I start feeling scratchy throats and general crappiness. Lovely. By Friday night, both of us are on NyQuill and Motrin. Can't quit now I guess. We arrived at the Gorge at about 10:40. 10:50 was the fastest time for this checkpoint recorded in a dry run in the Spring when the river was running faster so nobody expected any teams to get there by then but we had to be sure. We were among the first to arrive and, as we stood around and chatted with the volunteers, the racer-boys started to trickle in. Shaved legs, feather-weight bikes, one guy even had a $1500 rear wheel - yes one wheel - that measured his power output in watts! Ruh-roh Rastro!

So we wait and wait. They finally got the word that the first boat had put in on the leg leading to us. The operation was that the spotters would get the number of the team as the boat got close to the end of the leg and the corresponding biker would move into position for the transfer. Each team had to transfer a little wrist band to the next person. The kayaker would have to jump out of their boat, drag it up a hill, drop it and run to the bike transition point to make the hand-off. By this time the transition area was packed with bikes. Deb and I were desperately scanning the crowd to pick out people who we thought we could beat so that we wouldn't come in dead last. OK, there's a woman with sneakers and toe clips - check. There's a gray haired lady on a bike with a rack and some kind of decoration in her helmet - check. Here's another whom I have to help pump up her tires because she doesn't have a pump and doesn't know how to use the one I lend her. She also remarks that she's probably going to have to push her bike up the hill out of the Gorge - check.

The first boat is spotted - team 20 (we are team 7). The kayaker comes running up the hill slaps the hand of his teammate on a bike with tri-bars and a disk wheel who rockets out of the area, up the hill and out of site. One guy comments "Oh yeah, that guy has a couple of State Championships under his belt." Oh, State Champion you say? And you race with him? Perfect. The next boat is called - team 41. The paddler comes running up the hill with a line around his waist dragging his boat! Wonderful! By now Deb and I have found religion and are fervently praying for a major disaster to have befallen our kayaker so that all these Tour de France wannabees can take off before we do. We can hear it now, "Yeah we were in 3rd place until the last bike leg when Tom and Deb got blown away by the real bike riders." So, the 4th team comes in, the 5th, 6th, 7th. I lose track of the exact count. Ok, Ok, they're gonna be way back, we're gonna be racing against Ma Kettle and her mountain bike over there. You know where this is going don't you?

Team 7! Gulp! Did you say Team 7's boat is coming?! Yikes! We move the tandem sheepishly past all the gleaming bikes and snorting bulls pawing at the ground ('scuse us, 'scuse us) and get into position. In no time two kayakers are coming up the hill to us. Our girl is slightly behind another team. We make the hand off and go. We are about 20 yards behind the other biker. He motors up the hill and we motor up the hill just as fast. Ok, Ok, he's not killing us. We pretty much stay just behind him for the first few turns. When we reach a downhill, we go past him but not really pushing hard because we know what's coming up and don't want to waste it now. I'm hoping that we'll be fast enough without a lot of effort to slowly drop him on the flats and slight downhills. After a bit, I look back and - no such luck. He's staying with us.

We come to a short stretch on a major street where we have to take a left turn to another road. The traffic is horrible. There's about 50 cars in the left lane coming up to the light. Our buddy cuts left to the center line to go around them - and us! Well, it is a race! I cut between two cars and follow on the center line toward the light. As I'm pondering how the Hell we are going to manage a left turn in front of all the cars lined up coming this way, I see a cop come out and hold up traffic. We stomp on it, fly through the intersection, and catch up with our rabbit. Again, we pretty much stay together until we get to a hillier section where he starts to pull away. Deb and I are suffering mightily at this point. We are both wheezing from having to breathe so deeply against the hacking cough that we (especially Deb) had the night before and this morning. The spit in our mouths is turning the consistency of glue as well. I tried to spit a couple of times but it all just hangs together and blows over my shoulder and down my back. Yum!

We keep our guy in sight but he's definitely pulling away. We come to an intersection and there are several cars coming from both directions so I suppose that's why I totally miss any semblance a sign telling us to turn left. I roll through wondering "is that it?" but I keep going. We get to the next intersection and I realize that I should have taken that left. Crap! I know that this is the road that the first left would have eventually come to and sure enough I see the road on the left as we come back. So, we are back on track after a detour of about 2 or 3 minutes. Crap! Crap! Crap! Our guy is now out of sight.

Two more turns and we are on Woonsocket Hill Road. We are now pretty much wasted and we struggle up the hills on this road. A couple of times we are barely moving. We finally get to the top and the payback. We shift to our biggest gear, put our heads down, and hammer. I can't even look at the speedo but we are flying. It's over all too quick though and there's a decent uphill to the next turn. Just as we approach the turn, a guy goes by us. Crap! Where did he come from? We play cat and mouse with him through another right and left in traffic again. Another cop strategically placed lets us blast through without slowing. As we approach downtown Woonsocket there is absolute gridlock. Racer-boy weaves through the cars and drops us. We are in the right-hand lane which opens up nicely until a car cuts in front of us and squeezes us into the curb. I slam on the brakes while Deb drops the F-bomb on the driver. I clip back in and try to wind us up again. Mass confusion at the light. The cop waves us through and points to an opening in the curb where a volunteer stands waving us to come towards him. I'm thinking "well get the Hell out of the way then!" We swerve past him and he shouts "No, turn right!" I grab the brakes, cut right down an alley between two buildings turn left, and "Mother of God!", there's the finish line. We screech to a stop in front of our next leg teammates, Deb hands off the bracelet, and we slump over the bike in total exhaustion.

After we regain small motor control, we chat with our kayak partner who came down after tagging us at the Gorge. She had some problems and lost a few places. Well, we really only lost one more since we actually started behind the first guy. We chatted with some other people we knew and finally got back on the bike for the ride back to the car - back at the Gorge. Thankfully, it was only a couple of miles away. As we meandered back to the car, we started to feel pretty good about our effort. I was still kicking myself for missing that turn. I know we would have held off that second guy had we not missed it but the mongrel hordes didn't sweep by us like we had feared they would. I looked down at the speedo and noticed our average speed was 18.1 miles/hour! Holy crap! That's not bad! Hmm. I wonder how fast we got on that downhill part? Whaa? 47.7 mph!?!?! Holy Holy crap! That's practically Free Fall!

We loaded up the tandem on the car and made our way to the finish area where they had a cook-out, a band, and the standings. As we are walking toward the finish line from the parking lot, we see our runner go by and across the line. Hmm. I wonder how we did. Let's see, Whitinsville Community Center - 11th place overall! Wow! Let's look at the Recreational Division. 2nd place?! Super Wow! Deb and I look at each other in amazement.

So all-in-all, it was pretty fun. Deb remarked that that was the first race she'd ever been in. I said "You're not going to want to do this again next year are you?" She just raised her eyebrows in that "Ya never know" look.

Gotta love that Deb.