100 miles, west of here.

Phew...home at last. Took me 23 hrs of airport time to finally get to Lexington, KY. Delays and Overbookings are a complete hazard.

I completed the Gran Fondo. I set my goal at 8 hrs not knowing the true character of the route. 9 and 1 half hours to finalize 100 miles, a brutal gain of elevation, gusting winds and roads rough enough to break your wrists. A challenging course by any standard. The rolling hills of central KY prepped me well but are no training ground for mountainous attacks.

I coasted through the black ballooned finish line and quickly sought after my complementary New Belgium Fat Tire. Yes, its worth 9.5 hours in the saddle.

Some pictures from my journey.
The host, Levi Leipheimer, and I post race.

30 means 30

September 30th saw a cool overcast evening. For a friend's 30th birthday he decided to run 10 miles and bike 20. This has started to be a tradition that my cousin started. I rode along on the 20 mile Fork's to Stamping Ground loop. Exactly 20 miles via Switzer Rd and Woodlake. Some nice climbs on this route. None too long, none too steep but nonetheless challenging and leg burning, if you stay in them. The cool weather presented the problem with cycling during the latter two seasons of the year. Cool enough that you need a layer or sleeves, while being warm enough that you will sweat with what you are wearing, and then be cold during you fast descents.
Don't over think it. Wear what you have. Take it off when it needs taking off. Put it back on when ready. Tie it around, stuff it in. It may cause drag but who cares. Just ride.
Don't over think it. What route are we riding? No matter. 20 miles. 30 miles. 1 hour. 2 hour. Lets just ride. Hills, ride up them. Hills, ride down them. Just ride.
30 miles total. We will go until we are done. More or Less mileage has the same goal. Finish.

GranFondo

A Gran Fondo awaits. A big ride. Gran Fondo is Italian for "Big Ride." I'm headed to the west coast to ride in Levi Liepheimer's King Ridge Gran Fondo. http://www.levisgranfondo.com/ Wine country. Redwoods. Rocky cliffside beaches. Fog. The ride will take place on a bicycle. A 2 wheeled ship that I will motor and steer around 100 miles of dry, meandering, heavenly pathways through Sonoma County. I will be riding my 63 year old Cannondale Warrior 400r. No, it's not really 63. It's 7, and in terms of how long a person keeps a bike as his/her go-to riding vessel, it's nearing the end of it's career in a starting role. Ride hard my senior warrior.
Rolling Kentucky hills have prepared me medium well. That is to say, I'm not totally done, but am ready nonetheless. What seemed like a very short period of time since finding out that I was even going on this trip has turned into days and days of waiting for the departure to arrive. The final week is here and still it's not even 10 in the morning.
The sun is up, cool air has blown in, and vest and arm warmers, and fingered gloves wait obnoxiously on the dresser. A jumping off point for gear that has made their way from the drawer, so eager to be used that if there is any stall from the rider, they really might jump. Bursting with anger and excitement, they will jump, a material suicide, yelling their urgency and strong desire to go out-of-doors, as I walk not unnoticeingly by them while entering and exiting the room.