Rolling rolling rolling, keep them wheels a rolling!
I've had some interesting riding the past few weeks. Since I now work in Atlanta, I've gone seeking someone to ride with on Tuesday to afford myself two power workouts per week. Tuesday and Saturday. Sure, other days are utilized to ride, but at an easier pace rather than a "lets overtrain!" pace.
So, Tuesdays have been finding me riding with the amateur racing men of Aaron's Home Furnishings. Make no mistake, calling them amateur doesn't mean they're not damn good and damn fast, it just means they're not getting paid to do it. Aaron's also supports a pro women's team y'see, so I made a distinction here.
Anyway, the Aaron's guys have gotten used to me over the past three weeks of hooking into their ride. Like many rides in Atlanta, much of it could be confused with a really odd criterium due to the number of riders, turns (though one route doesn't turn as often), and traffic. This past Tuesday we included Piedmont Park for a little added excitement. Let me just say that 30 or so cyclists going at speed (we slowed down A Little) through a crowded park where walkers and dogs vie with cars, then throw in the occasional planter or pole in the middle of the road, and you get some serious need for bike handling skills. The guys have apparently decided I'm "ok" though and ride with the assumption that I can handle whatever they throw at me. This time, for instance, I found myself having to jump a curb (the ramp was taken) had a near miss with a pole, and one of the guys bumped into me in his attempt to avoid getting hit by oncoming traffic. A move like THAT could easily have sent me into the guy on MY right, but I held steady and no one wrecked.
This was a good reminder course for today's ride which started with 24 and dropped to 15 as we continued on, most dropping off to avoid the second mountain climb, that took us over 70 miles of Tennessee Back-country. As we shot down the first mountain, the guys discovered that my downhill muscle knows no peer. As I was flying down with a gleeful grin, one of the guys tried to come around me on my left. I was already coming around another dude on my right, and a third was on my wheel taking advantage of my draft to improve his own time down the mountain. He said he thought there would be trouble when the dude on my left ran into me on a turn. Most women he knows that ride would have reacted badly to that. Me, I just kept flying without skipping a beat.
I think that one act alone secured my name in his "wow" memory banks. I noticed after that I had a New Friend on the road.
Now, if I could get the rest of my teammates comfy with a little knockaround....
So, Tuesdays have been finding me riding with the amateur racing men of Aaron's Home Furnishings. Make no mistake, calling them amateur doesn't mean they're not damn good and damn fast, it just means they're not getting paid to do it. Aaron's also supports a pro women's team y'see, so I made a distinction here.
Anyway, the Aaron's guys have gotten used to me over the past three weeks of hooking into their ride. Like many rides in Atlanta, much of it could be confused with a really odd criterium due to the number of riders, turns (though one route doesn't turn as often), and traffic. This past Tuesday we included Piedmont Park for a little added excitement. Let me just say that 30 or so cyclists going at speed (we slowed down A Little) through a crowded park where walkers and dogs vie with cars, then throw in the occasional planter or pole in the middle of the road, and you get some serious need for bike handling skills. The guys have apparently decided I'm "ok" though and ride with the assumption that I can handle whatever they throw at me. This time, for instance, I found myself having to jump a curb (the ramp was taken) had a near miss with a pole, and one of the guys bumped into me in his attempt to avoid getting hit by oncoming traffic. A move like THAT could easily have sent me into the guy on MY right, but I held steady and no one wrecked.
This was a good reminder course for today's ride which started with 24 and dropped to 15 as we continued on, most dropping off to avoid the second mountain climb, that took us over 70 miles of Tennessee Back-country. As we shot down the first mountain, the guys discovered that my downhill muscle knows no peer. As I was flying down with a gleeful grin, one of the guys tried to come around me on my left. I was already coming around another dude on my right, and a third was on my wheel taking advantage of my draft to improve his own time down the mountain. He said he thought there would be trouble when the dude on my left ran into me on a turn. Most women he knows that ride would have reacted badly to that. Me, I just kept flying without skipping a beat.
I think that one act alone secured my name in his "wow" memory banks. I noticed after that I had a New Friend on the road.
Now, if I could get the rest of my teammates comfy with a little knockaround....
posted by WarKitty at
6:33 PM
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