It struck me that leaving my overshoes in the car had been a mistake around two hours into The Golden Apple. Rain was hitting the road so hard it was bouncing back up. The rain jacket next to the overshoes on the front seat would have been useful too.

Seventy miles and four hours later the rain had finally stopped falling. I sat on the sill of my car door, took off my shoes and squeezed half a pint of cold water out of my socks.

Even organizers as squared away as the Westchester Cycle Club aren't able to control the weather gods.

Most riders had probably discounted the ride's optimistic Facebook posting that there was "60% chance of No Rain. Hooray!", but the base case had seemed to be a few showers early on — not four hours of heavy rain.

The 2016 Golden Apple, which was sold out with 600 pre-registered, was a reboot of sorts with a return in simplified form with new routes for its 34th year after a break in 2015.

It had the town of Goldens Bridge in upper Westchester County, NY, at its center with the course formed by three loops radiating from Best Plumbing & Tile, just over the town line in Somers. Used in different combinations the loops gave five routes of between 25 and 93 miles with a a 7-mile bonus loop for those wanting to clock up a full century and 5,600 feet of climbing.

Without a mass start, it was a question of registering and hitting the road. I rode solo for the first 12 miles before a group of five swept past just as we turned off Route 100. I grabbed the last wheel — perfect.

It became apparent that the five — two in bright orange Tarmac Cycling/Iron Bridge Consulting kit and three with kit carrying the legend "40-50 miles or so" — all knew each other and were familiar with the roads we were on.

My first target was to hang in until the first rest stop 25 miles in, back at the start. By the time we got there I had realized that the pace was pretty much perfect and I wanted to stick with them. Thankfully, they were nice enough to let me muck in and I introduced myself as and when I could.

Denise sensed my confusion as we shot straight past the turn and let me know that they always bypassed the first rest stop. I weighed up my need for a call of nature against the likelihood of finding as good a group again. My bladder would just have to cope.

We did, however, halt a little down the road for Jim to deposit his rain jacket, which he hadn't bothered to use for the patches of light drizzle we had experienced, in his car. Just a few miles later the rain arrived.

By the time the second rest stop at the John Jay Homestead rolled around at mile 48 the group had swollen to about a dozen as we had joined forces with a similarly sized peloton. Despite the weather, which had dumped debris and wet leaves on the road, we were making good progress on the mixture of flat sections alongside the meandering reservoirs and rolling climbs.  Ward Pound Ridge Reservation, which we traversed, and many other spots suggested there were probably great views to be had on another day.

By the end of the second loop and our return to Best Plumbing at mile 68, the rain was now on the monsoon side of heavy, the views were even more obscured and everyone was soaked through. It was no great surprise to learn later that less than half of those who had signed up ahead of time actually registered and rode.

Luis, Jim and Reid from the Tarmac Cycling crew that had let me adopt them decided a metric century was more than enough for them given conditions. That left just John, Denise and me to push on for three figures imperial.

By this stage the tails of spray being thrown up were huge. Even riding to the side of the bike in front did not solve the issue as the spray from the lead bike still hit you two back. First wheel was the only spot that offered respite.

I had not put on my sunglasses all day due to the low light and that bit me now.

My right eye started to sting and no amount of blinking, rubbing with gloved fingers, putting on and taking off of Oakleys or #Rule-5ing improved the situation.

I managed to ride in squinting agony for a while, but even with only one eye I could see that this was not sensible or particularly safe. I pulled over and managed to extract the various bits of grit that had lodged under my eyelid.

Resigned to riding alone it was a a joyous moment when Denise and John rolled up from behind having halted for a comfort break. (I had just sworn in vibrant fashion at a driver that had buzzed past far too close on a completely empty road. Apologies for the language if you heard it ....)

Sadly, a few miles later my left eye decided to get in on the action and acquired its own selection of debris. I was dropped for a second and final time. The melancholy of the dropped cyclist is something that has to be experienced personally to be fully understood.

After the ride, Denise and John were incredibly apologetic about leaving me, which they absolutely did not need to be in the circumstances. Given how much Denise was shivering while trying to eat lunch any delay might have led to hypothermia

Back underway on my own again I put on my sunglasses, which did the trick at the expense of reducing the light level to that of just after sundown. It was around noon.

Looking in the mirror on my return home my eyes were completely bloodshot and I had a passing resemblance to an extra in a horror film. The eyes! The eyes!

At this stage tacking on the extra seven miles to complete the century was resigned to the trash. I rationalized that carrying on to 93 miles after so many stopped at 68 was enough given the conditions.

Miles 83 to Best Plumbing at 93 were pretty much down or flat, however, and with sight restored, the legs feeling surprisingly okay and the rain easing up a touch, I had a change of heart. After inhaling two mini-Snickers bars from the rest stop, I turned away from the very welcome hot soup on offer and set off up the Sunderland Lane climb to rack up three figures.

It was a slight disappointment to see 98.7 miles on both my Garmin and Strava on my final, final finish at Best Plumbing. If I count to and from the parking lot .....

One bonus of the final loop was coming up alongside a friend from down county, Agnes Holzberg. Agnes (star Realtor for all your real estate needs) was completing the 25-mile route, her first organized ride, on her brand-spanking-new bright yellow road bike. Despite the weather she was all smiles and committing to longer rides in the future.

The number of riders out on the shorter routes, most of whom will have started later when the rain had already arrived, was impressive and their hardiness was matched by the many volunteers. I am not sure I could have stood around all morning in the wind and rain and maintained a smile as they did.

In this, as in all things from registration to post-ride feed, the WCC did a bang up job. The only constructive criticism I have is to make the type size larger on the signs at the points where the loops split.

Oh, and better weather please. Boy, was it nice to be dry again.

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