A Hard Ride and the Unbelievable

Well, the unbelievable has just happened. The Saints won the NFC Championship. In overtime. Forty-three years after they first took the field at Tulane stadium. I'm sitting here at home, a few miles from the stadium, and I can hear fireworks and car horns and people screaming in the street. If my legs weren't so sore from this morning's ride, I might have actually jumped up and down.

When I woke up this morning at 5:45 I could hear the rain falling on the street outside the window. The forecast had been uncertain for days, so I was more disappointed than surprised. I fired up the computer to check the radar and it looked encouraging. A few text messages were exchanged and by 6:40 I was on my way to Puccino's. By 6:50 I was on I-10 in torrential rain watching the traction control warning light flash on and off as I hydroplaned in the general direction of Causeway Boulevard.

Luckily, that was the last of the rain and by the time we were loaded up, caffeinated, and on the causeway things were looking a whole lot better. The temperature was in the 60s, and although the streets were still good and wet, I was looking forward to a good hard ride -- in shorts! I think it was the first time I'd ridden without something covering my knees in a couple of months. We had around fifteen for today's northshore ride, and with Woody and Kenny there I figured we wouldn't be taking too many prisoners. Robert M was there on his new bike looking very much like an experienced veteran rather than a 14 year old junior. There was a lot of horsepower in the group and although everyone was clearly trying to keep it smooth and steady for the first half of the ride, we were definitely going a bit faster than usual. My legs were feeling pretty good, but I was trying to be conservative at first because I wasn't quite sure just when, or how hard, they'd put the hammer down later in the ride. I think Woody must have been on the front for at least 80% of the time today.

It being January, the ride's traditional sprint zones were in effect today, and while only a few of the guys went for each of them, they still served to spice up the ride. When we got to the turn onto Hwy. 10 pretty much everyone was still there, so after a very brief stop for clothing adjustments, we headed out onto the really meaty part of the course. I was a little surprised that there wasn't a big attack on that first long curving climb on 439. I think the group remained intact after that one, but the strain was starting to show. There are a couple more rather steep little climbs along that stretch and those finally split the group. Mignon had said she was going to stay with Robert, and everyone else, we thought, knew the course, so when we came to the turn onto Sie Jenkins Road we just eased up for a minute or so. Anyone who was more than a minute back was on his own.

What can I say about the rest of the ride? It was great. Fast but not impossible, with a few sprints thrown in for good measure, and a good effort up and over the Watchtower hill. And at the end, thanks to Mignon, there was king cake!

So I started writing this a few minutes after the Saints game ended. Outside there's still nonstop cacophony of car horns and fireworks as ecstatic fans head home, or to the French Quarter where it already looks like Mardi Gras night. It'll be hard to go back to work tomorrow......