The Historic New Bern Ride (or 'How I met your mother' and kicked off the first in a long line of mutually inclusive vignettes)

...just a few lines to summarize a beautiful weekend in New Bern.  But first let me take you back, in the annals of lore, to a simpler time...

We (Dianne and I) have been to New Bern for the MS 150 before.  We figured out that the last time we went must have been when we were dating, but before we got married.  It couldn't have been the year we met (1989) since we met in the fall; so it must have been in 1990.  In other words; it was 23 years ago!

At that time I was twenty six years old; and I had the confidence of my convictions that we could do anything; and we could certainly do this ride.  Dianne had no real preparation for the ride; but she could spend hot, summer weekends playing doubles volleyball tournaments; and she was willing to try anything to get her away from biostatistics.  There were her exploits on the soccer field, and her foray into Intramural softball; but those stories will have to wait for another time.

So; at the same time; I had built up what I thought was a pretty impressive biking resume of my own.  I had joined three other students at the NC School of Science and Math for a ride from Murphey to Manteo that we completed during our "Special Projects" week at school.  We were totally and ridiculously unprepared; but we were able to tolerate frigid nights in the mountains; live on cold pop-tarts, oreos, and bananas; and more or less look out for one another for eight days.

Also, before 1990; during a spring break at NCSU; I had done a solo ride from Washington, DC to Stanley, Virginia and then down to Raleigh.  During my brief stent at Vanderbilt; I had joined the biking club; actually learning the art of riding in a pace line; and the unnatural ways of semi-competitive cyclists.  And most importantly...back in 1979; I had seen Breaking Away.  So; as you can see; I was pretty much (less than) ideally prepared to bike 75 miles a day for two days in a row, with my unsuspecting fiancee!   Never mind that, in 1990, my biking was sporadic, and Dianne's biking was non-existent.

Believe it or not; we registered for the ride; and we raise the funds for MS ( which is really the best reason that we must have had for the endeavor); and we went down to New Bern to prove our mettle.  On the first day we rode together, at what I recall as being slower-than-a-snail's pace.  Which was shocking for me; since I must have secretly believed that Dianne was being modest when she said that she didn't bike.  So we were slow; very slow.  but we were determined.  We did 75 miles; and we hurt in places that we didn't know existed.  But we made it through the first day unscathed.

Well not completely unscathed.  I hit some gravel on a left hand turn and wiped out.  I wiped out as gracefully as one can wipe out when strapped into his pedals; and fueled by the courage of his convictions.  I got up; and picked out the little sandy bits of gravel; and I thought about finding the race marshall or course coordinator, or whoever could have been so careless to have overlooked the gravel on the road.  I guess at the time I assumed that someone would have been out sweeping (like literally sweeping, with a broom) all the biking lanes; kind of like they sweep the volleyball court before a USVBA match.

So I did wipe out on day 1.  Dianne saw me wipe out.  I didn't cry; but I was unhappy.  I sulked for a mile or two; but never did my illusion of being a great cyclist waver.

So day two arrives; and we get up; and now every muscle in our bodies is sore.  Ok, so our Quadriceps' are sore; our Gastrocnemius' are sore; our Gluteus maximus, minimus, and infinitessimus are sore (I made up that last one).  The ligaments in our knees, neck, and spine are sore.  Our wrists are sore. Our Trapezius' and our Sternocleidomastoid muscles are sore.  The muscles under the shoulder blades that can't be reached (because they are UNDER the shoulder blades) are sore.  So now we are starting to wonder, "Was this a good decision"  or was this simply the first in a long line of insanely comedic misjudgements that we would share as hapless soul mates.

Anyway... we managed to (painfully) remount our bike saddles; under what must have been the influence of the encouragement of our peers or sheer foolhardiness.  We rode separately on day two; and we both had a good ride. It took a few miles of bonding with our bikes to reacclimate ourselves with the road; but we both had a good ride.

Coda:  I see that my story has grown long; and I believe that I will tell you about the Historic New Bern ride of 2013 in my next entry.  So that you won't be left totally wanting;  let me tell you that the 2013 story involves less bravado; but no less shortage of drama.  Dianne has an intimate encounter with a car at an intersection.  Steve is admonished for 'pulling' too fast at the front of the pace line (Yes...I'm SO fast that I must be restrained).  Unfortunately, this story is still fresh in my mind; so the opportunities for embellishment and exaggeration are greatly limited compared to my tales of yore; so I'm afraid the next installment could be far more factual, and less instructive.

Thanks for reading,

Steve