The NECS/MRC non race season kicked off this past weekend with our first MTB oriented ride – Boyd’s Pain Train. The sudden switch does not represent a change in the core philosophy of the NECS/MRC (if we start having recumbent non races that is another thing), just a realignment with the priorities of our core troops. With Singlespeed-a-Palooza just a month away everyone is looking to maximize the skill sets and inflict maximum pain and suffering that go along with no shifters.
With spring just days away and the weekend starting out with a mild 50 degree day we opted for the “I’m With Stupid” approach and elected to roll out on Sunday when the temps were a sperm bank storage levels of below 20F. As you can see from this picture our Man O’Steel had no problems with serving it up in the subfreezing conditions.
And the crazed one, Mr. Monte, can be seen here discussing the benefits of a 32x15 setup for a day that includes a 5 mile climb. I recall Not Over Forty mumbling something about lacking the man parts to handle that as he looked dejectedly at the ground.
Having slathered enough emBROcation on my body to fry an egg we set off for the rendezvous with young Boyd, the brain trust (of should that be lack of brain trust) on this day of infamy. Lucky for Man O’Steel we met up with young Boyd at his house where M O’S swapped his summer weight gloves for ones designed for the cold winter. Immediately the earth pointed up and the suffering began in earnest (at least it seemed that way) and after cresting the ridge summit on some unmarked dirt roads it was down the backside for a case of wind chill induced frostbite. Just to add a bit of excitement the previous day’s melt off was well represented with patches of black ice that had most doing an impersonation of a moving tripod. We even made a run past Michael Vick’s dog fighting camp where a pair of pit bulls encouraged everyone to take additional risks on the descent.
Once at the bottom we formed up into a one geared man train and spun our way to the heart of Ellenville and Aroma Thyme, the end point of the Big Indian Scalping
With memories of Aroma Thyme fading like the winter sun the man train headed up the lower slopes of 52. Not having ridden on the road or climbed more than a staircase in the past 5 months this was clearly shaping up as a stupid decision on my part. Man O’Steel and Mr. Happy accelerated away and missed the turn up Self Inflicted Pain Street while the rest of us made the ill fated decision to veer left and immediately start a steeper climb. About half way up, Monte being Monte and Obamador always wanting to take a turn if it means going uphill, the two departed up a steep climb despite calls from the troops to stop. We all had a good chuckle seeing the sign off to one side – Dead End. SIP St is a nice 4-5 mile climb that is primarily hard packed and packs a lot of steep pitches that make you want to cry for mommy and cry for her I did. Especially the final 20+ degree pitch to the summit.
A brief tour of the parking lot at Cragsmoor ice caves and it was a 5 mile downhill arctic blast that left the remnants of my water bottle frozen and Obamador’s ears redder then a commie. All survived, mission accomplished with 28.5 miles and 3100' of climbing. Stay tuned for updates on the Bear Mountain Beatdown.
