Three hours north in Alachua, Florida, the weather is vastly different from ours. Normally, one would NOT rather be there. Especially not in January.
But when there's sunshine, the cold doesn't count. Not as much, anyway. This year, the stars aligned with plenty of both for one chilly, sunny Tour de Felasco.
Saturday January 10, 2015
Hopping out of the car, I am positively giddy.
No matter what discomforts the ride has in store for us today, I am ecstatic with the bright, clear, 35 degree, north Florida morning.
I can see my breath! And it's cold enough to wear my once a year Maine s***kickers!
And there is... a horse? Yup. Complete with Conquistador astride. The horse apparently loves people, pats, and praise, and keeps us company in the packet pick up line.
A "real" conquistador at the start!
Promises, promises.
A dozen years ago, I attempted my first Felasco. 30 degrees and zero experience. Ice skimming the puddles, and just a few snow flurries.
50 miles seemed beyond impossible. The aluminum hardtail may have been a factor, but not so much as the violent shivering. Hanging in until the 35 mile bail out felt absolutely heroic.
Enter high tech clothing and carbon full suspension. Unless it's lightning or blowing a gale (or I've gone up to my knees in icy standing water), I take for granted the completion of the 64 mile distance right from the start.
Which, this year, was the right place to be mentally.
Because they changed the choices.
Previously there was one choice for extra distance - at the fifty mile mark. Take the extra mileage loop - or bail out to the parking lot.
This year there were five choices.
Where did the mileage go?
Better not miss any turns!
Here's the map. Make of it what you will. I'm just glad they had sufficient arrows!
But that's just mileage. You can do mileage anytime.
It's the company that makes the ride! There is always a huge group from Melbourne. And this year, it is bigger than ever. At nearly every turn it seems there is someone you know.
Mike, Robin, Gobbler, Scott
Lunch stop.
Uh oh.
Where the heck did I leave my bike?
Each year, Jeff comes all the way from California.
C'mon, let's go!
He calls me Sag Nazi (as he does every year)
then cranks up his music and goes anyway.
Gobbler - always in for the long haul.
I confess.
Before we finish
I take just one for my favorite Facebook page,
"Look at my Bike Leaning on Stuff".
Back at the lodge in time for the happy hour.
Our favorite bartender hooks us up.
Bloody Mary, please. Lots of olives!
Dinner at the Alehouse, another favorite.
Then back to the Lodge
for Extra Credit Happy Hour by the fire.
until....
Yup.
I know exactly how ya feel.
Another Felasco in the bag.
Best one ever.
But then, it always is.