One of my favorite cycling memories was on French Rd. In my early 30's I rode with a group on Sunday mornings We would meet at the Peddler bicycle shop; where the Tap Room is now, in the Bayview Cashstore. I would ride from where we where staying on Saratoga Road to the Cashstore via Lone Lake Road. A little warm up spin I enjoyed before the group ride. One Sunday morning I was running late. As I approached the Peddler the small group of seven or eight cyclist were mounting their bikes and heading for the highway. With no time for socializing the group moved out and I joined them as they left the shop. I noticed we had a new rider with us an older guy on a very nice bicycle. We crossed the highway and rode along Bayview Road behind what was Casey's, now the Goose. We where talking and joking and getting ourselves comfortable on our bikes. When we reached SunLight Beach we started getting serious and formed a single file pace line. We went up over the hill where Bayview turns into Ewing and down the other side. On the flat stretch someone in the front asked "Which way?". We were approaching the intersection of Ewing and Sills Roads. You have a choice either go straight where it stay's responsibly flat, down a hill across the valley to Maxwelton Road. Or you can go right onto Sills Road. Sills Road takes you around a couple of corners over a hill then drops you down onto Maxwelton Road across from French Road. The old guy yells out "Right!" Someone else says begrudgingly, "You just want to climb French Road." We went right at the intersection. We went up around the corners over the hill and down on to Maxwelton road. We crossed the road and on to French Road.
We were bunched up as we approached the hill. By the time we reached Bailey Road the old guy had moved up alongside of the group. I was boxed in next to the white line with a rider on my left. I was thinking, “The old guy is making a move and I don’t want to miss it. I have to get on his wheel.” I accelerated and gave a head nod to the rider next to me. He yielded letting me over and I caught the old guy's wheel just as the grade began to increase. The old guy come out of the saddle and really started to crank on it. I came out of the saddle and stayed with him, my front wheel overlapping his back wheel. When we were out front of the group the old guy did a casual glance over his shoulder. He didn’t expect anyone in the group to be with him. I can still remember the surprised look on his face when he seen me with him. He quickly turned around and started peddling even harder. I responded to the acceleration. Although we were only at the bottom of the first corner I was starting to breath hard with plenty of hill go. We went up side by side to the next corner. I was certainly being challenged, breathing hard and thinking to myself “Who is this old guy?” Shortly after the corner the grade pitches up becoming the steepest section of the hill. At that point the old guy came out of his saddle again! This acceleration was his hardest one yet. He was throwing his bike back and forth between his legs. For the first time he was breath hard. I came out of my saddle as well to match his effort. I was throwing my bike back and forth and breathing so hard drool was coming uncontrollably out of my mouth. Every peddle stroke my legs were screaming "STOP!" I stayed with him to about the middle of the pitch, where I sat back into my saddle, my legs where done. I shifted into my lowest gear and watch the old guy ride away over the top of the climb and out of site.
By the time I went over the hill he had passed the golf course and was riding circles at the stop sign. I couldn't believe it. ”Who is this guy? ”I freewheeled past the golf course sucking on my water bottle and catching my breath. I kept thinking ”Who is this guy?” I hadn't ridden with anyone this fast since I was in college. When I reached the stop sign I said "Who are you?" With an out stretched gloved hand he said "Bill” I put my gloved hand in his and said "Steve".
By the time I went over the hill he had passed the golf course and was riding circles at the stop sign. I couldn't believe it. ”Who is this guy? ”I freewheeled past the golf course sucking on my water bottle and catching my breath. I kept thinking ”Who is this guy?” I hadn't ridden with anyone this fast since I was in college. When I reached the stop sign I said "Who are you?" With an out stretched gloved hand he said "Bill” I put my gloved hand in his and said "Steve".
Bill rode with us quite often. The way Bill rode, hard and often, I believe Sunday was his recovery ride after a hard day in the saddle on Saturday. I think about Bill occasionally and our epic ride up French Road, or rather how I got my but kicked on French Road. It motivates me to put in a good effort when I climb French road now. Not too long ago I was remembering Bill and some of our rides and realized that Bill was younger than I am now. At that time I was thinking he was an old guy. Now I realized he wasn't old, he was in his prime.
Be Safe out there.
