44 miles
When I had left the park the day before, I talked to JoAnn
and we planned on having the furiosos leave at 6:30am since there was a lot of
climbing on the day. I got up at 5:30,
with no problem to get ready and have my bag outside in an hour.
JoAnn called me at 5:50am, to let me know that there would
be THREE separate leaving times that morning: the very slow furiosos were
leaving at 6:00, the furiosos at 7:00 and the racers at 8:00. I would have preferred to leave with the
6:00am group but just didn’t have enough time to get ready, so I was in with
the 7:00am group.
I waited outside
Enlaces, in front of Pizza Hut with my bike and my bag. The 7:00 group was coming up, and Don Esteban
saw me. He pulled over and told me to
put my bag in his car, which was following right behind this little peloton. So I did.
I joined the group, looking around, sizing it up. Oops, I was definitely in the wrong group –
lots of really strong riders here – and no doubt should have left earlier, but
it was all water under the bridge at this point.
We were all riding together, leaving Comayagua. Many were commenting about the crummy road we
were on. Actually, this stretch of road
would be some of our worst all week. We
had about two or three miles of dodging pot holes then we hit the bypass to the
main highway – and the beautifully paved road.
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| Entering the highway, outside of Comayagua |
Once on the highway, though, the pace picked up and the
group mostly fell apart. I soldiered on.
We quickly passed the base, Soto Cano Airforce Base, and kept
going. Before long, though, we hit Los
Mangos and then Flores, where the road is once again crappy. Actually, maybe it did get worse than the
road in Comayagua.
It did for me, anyway.
I was riding with Michael, from New Jersey, and we had been talking for a
bit but had to single up for this stretch of road. The road narrows, is rough and pothole-laden,
and has no shoulder – just a drop off to gravel. One minute I’m riding, the next I’m being
passed, with SIX INCHES of clearance, by a semi.
SIX INCHES. That’s
all that separated me from certain death.
The semi was traveling at high speed and it happened so fast there was
nothing for me to do, nowhere to go, but hunker down for the usual ‘backdraft’ a truck causes, hoping it wouldn’t suck me
sideways. Once that was over and my
heart started beating again, I could think about my next course of action: get
off the bike!!
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| The racers leaving Comayagua |
I was pretty badly shaken up by that truck. Yes, I’ve had
other trucks pass me at pretty much the same speed – but never with only 6
inches of clearance. So much for a 3
feet law, right? Anyway, as soon as I
could find a way to do it, I unclipped and pulled over and off the bike. Thankfully, there was a pickup truck with the
group that was following not too far behind and within a few minutes I was in
the passenger’s seat and my bike was in the back.
After a bit of riding in the truck, the road had changed
back to the “good highway” – well paved, and lots of good shoulder. My pulse had returned to normal and I was
ready to venture on some more. We
stopped the truck and I and my bike got out and started riding again.
Of course, at this point, the road was pointing upward – and
would be for many miles. Low and
slow. Low and slow. That’s about the only way to climb the
mountains. I stopped occasionally, just
for a minute or so, but it was always enough to refresh me. And then back to it.
At some point, I reached one of the support buses. I grabbed a little Gatorade and then asked if
there was room on the bus for my bike.
There was. And just like that, my
day was mostly over. I got on the bus
and we started going. Before long, I
realized that I had stopped not too far from the top of the last big
climb. It was mostly downhill after that. Silly me.
The bus stopped at the finish line for the day, right at the
big cemetery on the outskirts of Tegucigalpa.
I got out, got my bike out, and we all waited for everyone to
finish. It took a while. Yeah, maybe I should have just gutted it out.
After the whole group arrived, we still had plenty of time
before we had to be at the park for the day’s event, so it was decided that we’d
all go to the Mall for a while. We rode
as a group, of course. Here’s the part
where I was definitely calling “no joy”.
It’s all downhill from there and we had to ride our brakes pretty much
the whole way. Before long, my hands were
numb. I mean, really numb. More numb than they've ever been on the bike. So were so many other people’s. There was no way around it. It was the first time I’ve considered disc
brakes for a road bike – but the conversion would be cost prohibitive.
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| We began the final descent into Tegucigalpa |
We were at the mall for a while, so I decided to get some
ice cream. It was my first one of the
whole trip. Last year, I had ice cream
almost every day, but last year it was hot.
This year, not so much.
After the mall, it was another short ride to the park,
escorted the whole way. The event was well
attended and we even had a surprise guest:
the US Ambassador to Honduras. I’ve
met her before and I really like her.
It was cool that she and her husband took time out of their busy schedule
to stop by.
At night, I stayed with Kurt and JoAnn at their house.
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