Horribly Hilly Hundreds: Finally Freakin' Finished

And what a ride it was!

Horribly Hilly Hundreds provides riders with stunningly beautiful views, along with sometimes painfully challenging climbs, in the rolling terrain of Southern Wisconsin.

Despite the devastating weather of the last few weeks, today dawned clear and cool; temperatures climbed to over 80 by the afternoon, but the rain stayed away until after most riders had safely finished the route, it seemed. The roads on the course were intact and mostly dry, if a little gravely from recent rains, though I heard talk today of one rider who slid out on a slick spot early in the course.

My ride was shaped by false starts and wrong turns---we got underway at about 8:20 and then spent time being re-routed onto a gravel patch exiting town, thanks to my keen sense of direction (hmm, are these not features of my 50k race report, too?). After these early challenges, the rest of the ride went without incident--though I thought I might expire in a Porta-Jane that was parked in the sun and must have been 150 degrees...(what a way to go...literally and figuratively!). I expect my official speed to be about 8 mph, given the late start and early delays; there's no chip timing, so I suspect the clock just started at 7 a.m. and riders are "timed" at the finish. My actual pace was a bit faster than I thought, though slower than I hoped, even with my orientation toward this thing as a touring training ride...and the long marches that the adventure involved. We were out there more than five hours, with the total ride time being 3:49, according to Garmin. It's amazing how "paused time" can accumulate when you are lost, looking for maps, chatting up drivers, and visiting with the EMT and her little dog at the rest stops!


Some highlights:

1) Incredible scenery all the way
3) Excellent company of Ride Companion the whole trip
2) The chalked messages on the final climb really helped pull me forward--and up!
3) Friendly conversations with fellow riders
4) Finishing upright and uninjured
5) Hydration (camelbak..) and nutrition--if you can call Salted Nut Rolls that (2 for $1 at the gas station, people, and more protein than a gel)---seemed to work well.


Some observations:

1) This thing is *hard.*

2) I saw less carnage than I was brought to expect---however, I heard far more kvetching, whining, and complaining than I'd expected, too---and it wasn't all coming from me!

3) HHH was an interesting place to observe gender differences...Men having a hard time think the course sucks; women having a hard time think our riding sucks. This is a classic in social psychology---external v. internal locus of control, and how it breaks down along gender lines.

Also on this score: there was a guy who passed me riding up the next-to-last climb up Blue Mound; I happened to be walking at the time, I confess, who said "all the men are riding; all the walkers are women, and this is what insanity looks like." Everybody is a gender scholar! Anway, thought this was worth contemplating. BTW, it was not true of the day in general---I saw lots of guys today walking those bikes: the hills are the hills for men and women alike.

4) Despite the foregoing, it was a young, fit woman who expressed the sentiment at the last water stop that she would like to throw her bicycle and had never hated a ride like she was hating this one. I was surprised--I wasn't exactly hating my bike or the ride...though I wasn't too happy with my riding. One of the benefits for me of this sort of thing is to help me see that hard is hard sometimes---it's not always a result of my inadequacies.

5. I like the wind. Other people were hating it today, so I decided I was best served keeping that to myself.

6. When you have a ride-not-a-race mentality, it is easy to see the scenery and to be grateful. As hard as this was, I was grateful all day long that I am alive and well enough to be having this incredible experience. How many people whose homes are flooded, whose kids are starving, whose health is fragile would give a million bucks to have their biggest concern be whether to walk or ride the last mile up gorgeous Blue Mound? I am a fortunate person today, indeed.