Thankfully, we did not have to do a lap of Cyclocross to finish.

After 104 miles and 19 gravel sections, the jokes made hours earlier about taking a spin around the KMC Crossfest course on our return to the Thompson Speedway were no longer so amusing.

The Gran Fondo riders lap the Speedway. Credit: Victoria Scott-Villars
The Speedway, the start and finish for GFNE and Crossfest's new home, may be the loudest place in Connecticut's Quiet Corner. On the KMC Crossfest weekend of racing, the usual roar of internal combustion engines was replaced by the blaring PA system and spectators' cheers of CX craziness as over 2,000 riders tackled 37 races over the three days.

It was my first time watching Cross in person and I was blown away. As my six-year-old summed it up: "The crashes are awesome, daddy! They are like daredevils - can I do this when I am bigger?"

He was clearly disappointed when I had to admit that I was doing the Gran Fondo on the Sunday and would not be carrying my bike up and careering down the muddy cliffs of the Cross course. I blamed my lack of a Cyclocross bike (n+1).

Thankfully the Gran Fondo's gravel sections were more manageable. Credit: KMC Crossfest
Gran Fondo New England is a bolt-on to the KMC Crossfest and the new location, nestled in the northeast corner of the state beneath Massachusetts and alongside Rhode Island, meant an equally new course that took full advantage of the car-free roads and gorgeous rolling hills of the Quiet Corner and the neighboring states.

On the Cross side, rider numbers were slightly down from 2015 in Providence, but organizers said they were expecting that and were enthused by the feedback received about the Speedway and its potential.

The next morning the relatively small fondo field of around 125 rolled out around the autoracing circuit as the mud-spattered CX devotees wound themselves around and up and over the infield.

We started with a low-key 180 turn around a trailer in the parking lot behind the Speedway's pits before the lap behind a pace car. Exiting through the barriers of the track, the gravel and non-gravel routes split. Within a few hundred yards the Gran Fondo and People's Piccolo riders were bouncing over packed dirt for the first time while the Metric Medio Fondo and Pristine Piccolo Fondo kept to the blacktop.

Ride Options:

  • Gran Fondo/Major Taylor Century* - 103 miles, 6,700 feet of climbing, 15 miles of gravel
  • Metric Medio Fondo - 65 miles, 4,300 feet of climbing
  • People's Piccolo Fondo - 39 miles, 2,350 feet of climbing and 6 miles of gravel
  • Pristine Piccolo Fondo - 35 miles, 1,900 feet of climbing  

(*The Gran Fondo was also the 2016 Major Taylor Century presented by the Seven Hills Wheelmen. A portion of the proceeds benefited the Major Taylor Association. Major Tayor, The Worcester Whirlwind, came from just up the road.)

Throughout the day the different routes intersected and even ran in opposite directions so that it was useful that the arrows on the road were well done, and pretty hard to miss. The post-turn confirm arrows were great, but I still think the gold standard is both pre- and post-turn road markings AND a sign above ground level that shows direction of turn. A couple of times I could see there were arrows, but was right on top of them before I could work out where we were meant to be going.

The Quiet Corner and neighboring Massachusetts and Rhode Island.
The pace was decent, but not outrageous, in the early miles. Around 20 of us were riding together until a sharp series of short climbs as the course headed east into Rhode Island for five miles. It all felt familiar as the HR rose, the speed fell and my Clydesdale physique failed to defy gravity.

I was not alone and with a largely unspoken collective grasping of the situation, four of us started to work together to claw back to the dozen or so up front. It was not an Olympic Pursuit team by any stretch of the imagination, but as we took our pulls at the front we closed the gap slowly over 15-20 minutes.

Sat at the back of the reconstituted group, I did my best to recover and was starting to feel the pressure again when - like an oasis in the desert - the first rest stop appeared over the horizon at mile 18.

Back underway, there was a bit more tempo to proceedings as we reached Massachusetts and dropped down through Oxford across Buffurnville Lake and up the other side of the valley before dropping again down to Southbridge and the second rest stop.

The sawtooth profile of the Gran Fondo/Major Taylor Century.
As should be becoming apparent, rolling would be the most appropriate adjective to apply to the terrain. There was very little time on the flat. With the temperature on the chilly side of okay and a smattering of drizzle, it was a day for arm warmers and vests and there were few knees on show.

From Southbridge we headed south taking in sectors 17 to 11 of gravel in quick succession before the third rest stop at Woodstock Common at around 60 miles. Once again, the refueling opportunity saved me as Arvidson's Berg, sector 11, was aptly named and the elastic was fraying fast on the gravel climb.

It finally snapped after Swedetown Forest, a long gravel section that featured the biggest bumps of the day. The central section was stones resembling pave cobbles and had me thinking that maybe 28mm tires would have been a good option. That said, for the rest my 25mm rubber was more than enough and the the majority of the non-tarmac miles were pretty smooth hard-packed dirt.

The Forest was one of the timed sections for the KOM/QOM competition and as the four or five strongest riders started to pull away I rationalized with zen calm that I was not bothered about gunning for prizes. A couple of minutes later it dawned on me in a panic that as well as losing the segment I was being dropped. Dummkoff!

I held on for a bit and then resigned myself to riding the final third on my lonesome.

Thankfully, it was not to be.

To my surprise and pleasure, the familiar sound of turning pedals and whirring chain announced the arrival of another rider and I recognized him as someone we had passed at the side of the road a few miles back.

Turns out that Brian had lost the Gran Fondo course when riding with a group that unbeknownst to him was doing the Metric Medio and had been trying to orientate himself having regained the correct route after his detour.

I was able to tell him we had 30 or so miles to go as we introduced ourselves. Brian was kind enough to wait for me on the downslopes after I struggled up the frequent climbs and it is amazing how company makes the miles turn over quicker despite protesting legs.

It was during this section that a squirrel of very little brain did multiple U-turns in my path. The stupid rodent ended up smacking into the side of my front wheel and become a squirrel of even less brains. It could have been worse. All I could think of was this.

At what would be our last stop around 82 miles we caught sight of the group from which I had been dropped rolling out as we arrived and then picked up two accomplices. Matt and Danny came in while we took on calories and chatted to the delightful volunteers handing out the food. We headed for the finish as a quartet.

Miles 88 to 100 were a joy as we worked together gradually dropping 550 feet over the distance as we took it turns to pull.

The last three miles saw us make some of that height back before swooping down the road to the Speedway, hot food, warm dry clothes and cold beer courtesy of New Belgian Beer.

Gran Fondo New England has the valuable raw materials of an awesomely buzzy Cross-filled home base, great surrounding cycling country and the Major Taylor connection. With work on certain aspects such as the start and finish as it beds down in its new home it has the potential to become a top event in its own right and attract far bigger fields -- bringing a bit more noise the Quiet Corner.

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