After a hardy breakfast cooked up by Amy and JilliJill, E and I embro'd up and chatted up the route.
Porter came rocking in and quickly deemed his fifteen pounds extra to be detrimental to doing any sort of climbing quickly. An inward sigh of relief was had by E and I both knowing how strong a rider Porter is.
After shooting the breeze and getting started on our ride, we were summarily off route on the first turn. We farted around on some roads that we thought were right, but ended up back where we started after about 9 miles. Erich promised Porter that the first twenty miles would be mostly uneventful, but the first nine ticked by with over 1k feet of climbing. Oof, a rough start to warm up with to say the least.
We ended up back on route and headed down Squirrel Spur and were treated with some monstrous views of the Blue Ridge, Pilot and the piedmont. An alternate route, including some gravel, was planned for the link over to Willis Gap. An unplanned detour and requisite route checking, and we were at the bottom of Willis. I took advantage of a slight lull in the group and took off up Willis alone hoping to be able to hold off E. About two-thirds of the way up I hear a beckoning, "Baaaaary..." Crap, I was caught. E sent a quick text to our sag support vehicle and Bus met us at the top with some food and beverage.
We crossed over the parkway and onto some gravel. Along the way, there was some taunting going on from the support vehicle. Apparently, the night before, in a bout of madness, Bus installed a PA onto the front bumper of the 4Runner and was now using it to verbally whip our backs.
After some deliberation on one of the climbs on the Parkway, we decided to call in support. We had about 50 miles or riding in and were running low on daylight. Bus met us at Mabry Mill, and we loaded up the bikes. This was not to be the end of the ride, though.
The gauntlet had been thrown to the floor by coach, and I wanted more for dinner than just four tortilla chips and a tablespoon of salsa. I was told that if I didn't complete Belcher Mtn, that my caloric intake would be limited at dinner. I was also told by E that he gave us a 25percent shot at making it up. Bus stated that if he had been taken along on a ride like this one, that he would defriend E and never talk to him again. All the hype aside, Belcher was horrendous. Like, slap yo momma horrendous. In the lowlight E and I started our ascent. On the first really steep section, I got into some loose gravel and lost traction. I was able to remount the steed at a lowly 16 percent and get going again. About two hundred meters later though, I realized that I had flatted in the gravel. Luckily the Bus was right behind with the required supplies and we were quickly (in a relative sense) back up the road.
Brutality and Beauty in one spot; so often in cycling are the two intertwined.
After about 2.5 miles of climbing and over 1000 feet, my legs were done. I lacked the power to turn the cranks over any further. E toiled on though alone against the mountain. At every switchback, glorious views abound, and E made it to the top.
Truly a heroic effort on his part, afterwards I was in awe. Until we ate, then I was in further awe. V Sport knows how to put on a camp, and I can't wait until the official camp this spring.
I will, fear not, and I will have my revenge on you Belcher.
