Cycling can be full of contradictions. In some respects the worse it is the better.
"Epic" rides require suffering to make the ultimate triumph all the more glorious.
The more suffering the more glory.
Extreme weather, equipment failures, physical ailments, mental strife, huge climbs, wrong turns, near misses, even crashes all make for good stories.
On that score the 2016 Gran Fondo NJ placed low in the glory rankings — for all the right reasons.
Despite the mass of riders, throughout the day Gran Fondo NJ, in its sixth year, felt like a small event. That is a compliment.
Huge stretches of the 109-mile Gran Fondo were on quiet country roads as the route wandered south and west through glorious scenery as far as the Delaware River and the border with Pennsylvania. Twice deer bounded across the road. The first Bambi was moving at high speed about 50 yards ahead of me and thankfully its trailing companion did a U turn rather than continue on what looked like a collision course with my small group.
Trees provided shade for large portions as the course rolled over a conveyor belt of hills. Even without any standout peaks or getting beyond 950 feet above sea level it all added up to over 8,000 feet of climbing by the time the PA announcer welcomed us back to Morristown and the Expo on the Green.
Over half of the entrants had opted for the Gran Fondo distance, but even so for much of the ride there was little sign that I was one of around 1,300 or so taking on the same challenge. Long stretches passed with few riders in sight after the initial few miles of large bunches and the adrenaline boost of riding with hundreds of others.
As well as the Gran Fondo, there were four other routes — MiGran(e) 76 miles and 6,000 feet of climbing, Medio 63 miles and 5,000 feet, Piccolo 43 miles and 3,200 feet, and Breve 18 miles and 1,000 feet.
The crowd reflected the range of the ride options with a range from team-kit-clad racers with top-level carbon machines at the front of Speedwell Avenue to T-shirt-and-sneakers MTB riders farther back and everything in between.
The usual pre-race speeches were brief and there were moments of silence on the anniversary of the 9/11 attacks before the signal was given and the unmistakeable sound of hundreds of cleats clipping in to "clipless" pedals and the beeps of GPS units activating confirmed we were under way.
A quick loop of the Green turned us around and we headed out of Morristown to the west at a fairly relaxed pace waved through intersections by police officers. The number of "Marty's Reliable Cycle" jerseys around was remarkable and I struck up conversation with a couple of wearers to try to extract some local knowledge. "Hilly" was the main takeaway.
Within the first hour or so gusty winds arrived bringing in dark gray clouds and it looked like we were going to get very wet. Just as quickly the clouds and their cargo rolled away, but the strong breeze and its freshness remained for the rest of the day.
The first of these came 25 miles in, by which stage the largest groups had broken up, and it was obvious people were tackling them in very different ways.
Some riders took it very seriously indeed, turning themselves inside out on the timed climbs and then collapsing in a heap on the verge once over the timing mat at the end. Two young bucks in the bright yellow jerseys of the CRCA passed me giving it the full gas on the second, the third AND the fourth of the sections.
In each case I meandered to the top, passed them as they tried to lower their HRs below 230 and did not see them again until they stormed past again on the next section.
It's one way to do it I suppose. Each to their own and I can see how the format works for teams.
I ended up riding alongside Team Fire in the run to the first climb. Despite what appeared to be quite a range of abilities they stayed together to the start. The stronger riders then flexed their quads between the timing mats and were waiting at the top as I took it steadier, aware of the 80 miles still to come, and rolled over with some of the team some time later.
Having bypassed the first rest stop, I was happy to see the cheerleaders at the entrance of the second one as my bottles were nearly empty.
With a full range of liquids, gels, PBJs, speciality snacks and even pin-striped Segafredo espressos all served by a smiling volunteers, the stops were a model of how to make refueling (and recycling) easy. My only minor quibbles would be the lack of bike racks at all but the final stop and quite how far away the porta-potties were placed.
By now I had found a companion on the road and covered a chunk of road with Christopher Swan. Good conversation (and drafting) helped the miles fly by and in a first for me it turned out he was wearing his own kit. Not custom kit he'd ordered from a manufacturer, but kit produced by his company Mektrax Cycling, which was a sponsor of the Gran Fondo. Check out www.mektraxcycling.com to see the classy range.
After one hill too many Christopher rode into the distance, confirming the accuracy of the statement on his bio page: 'I'm not the greatest rider going down hill but you'll have to be pretty determined to stay with me going up!'
Near this point the course turned left onto a road that had been milled. There was no warning that I could see and as I got there a female rider fell. Thankfully it was at low speed. Several of us stopped and she seemed fine apart from the inevitable shock. I have got to think the milling was a last-minute occurrence. Elsewhere over the 109 miles the warnings for potholes and rough surfaces were excellent, as was all the signage.
With all routes heading back into Morristown together the handful of uphill sections in the last few miles were taking their toll on riders (some of whom became walkers) despite being too minor to show up on the top tube sticker. The legs were definitely beginning to object a little by the time I returned to Speedwell Avenue after just over seven hours and surrendered my timing chip in return for the finisher's medal.
A top day.
Sometimes events trumpet their greatness — whether it is justified or not — and sometimes quietly and unassumingly they are just great.
Gran Fondo NJ by virtue of its beautiful course, logistical ease and friendly relaxed feel, falls very definitely in the second camp.
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