A publication of ADVENTURE CYCLING ASSOCIATION

SOUTHERN SPAIN’S TAPAS TRAIL

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VERMONT CHALLENGE

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CYCLE OREGON 28

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FEBRUARY 2017Vol.44 No.1

TOURS & EVENTS ISSUE

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GREG SIPLE RIDES INTO THE SUNSET 10

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Taking the long way through the Green MountainsVERMONT CYCLING CHALLENGE

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The third day of the 2016 Vermont Challenge was the hardest, riding 107 miles over some of

the steepest terrain that the Green Mountain State has to offer and climbing a grand total of 7,500 feet. That might not have been so bad except that the biggest challenge was saved for the last five miles: a brutal climb up Stratton Mountain to the finish.

The final aid station before that last climb was at a volunteer fire department in the town of Jamaica. Winded from nearly 100 miles of riding and more than a little pink thanks to an unexpected amount of sun on what was supposed to be a rainy day, I enjoyed the brief luxury of an air-conditioned bathroom before heading back outside and wincing down a shot of pickle juice to soothe my legs.

“Long day,” I offered to another rider who was sitting nearby.

“Yeah, I’m done,” he replied, confessing that he was waiting for a ride home.

He told me of the ceaseless leg cramps that were taking him out of the fight. I commiserated, speculating on the volume of pickle juice I’d consumed through the course of the day, and then I wished him well, threw a leg over my bike, and headed off to the final climb. Of the two of us, I thought, he was probably making the smarter decision.

The 2016 edition marked the fifth running of the Vermont Challenge, which was founded and is still run by John Sohikian, in part as a response

to the surprising lack of large, well-organized rides like this in Vermont. The initial goal, however, was also to create a fundraising opportunity to help rebuild the state after the devastation wrought by Hurricane Irene.

Irene struck New England in 2011, causing $15 billion in damages as it worked its way up the East Coast. Over $700 million in damages was done in Vermont alone, where the storm dumped 11 inches of rain, overwhelming rivers and streams that then damaged or destroyed many of the state’s iconic covered bridges.

Days One and Two of the 2016 Vermont Challenge, which crossed a few of those surviving or rebuilt covered bridges, gave plenty of chances to see remaining traces of that destruction,

such as freshly reconstructed roads snaking along mostly empty riverbeds and massive boulders curiously deposited in the middle of now docile streams. These were scars of the damages still not healed a half-decade on.

But the beginning of the Vermont Challenge was much more about enjoying the sights offered in the now-quiet valleys of the Battenkill and Mettawee rivers and making rest stops at celebrated Vermont establishments like Wilcox Ice Cream, the oldest source of the stuff in the state — though perhaps not the most widely known.

Those first two days, offering a total of 5,600 feet of climbing over 127 miles,

served as a savory appetizer to the main course, which would come on Saturday. If this were a race, Day Three would be the queen stage. Four distances were on offer, and with bad weather looming, many opted for the 70-, 45-, or 26-mile courses.

I selected the full 107-mile gran fondo. Although I was, of course, looking for the maximum challenge, I also had an ulterior motive: this was my home territory. I had grown up in southeastern Vermont, and the full gran fondo route cut right through my hometown along roads I hadn’t covered in 25 years. Riding a century over very hilly terrain had the makings of a long day, but I couldn’t resist.

So at 7:00 am on Saturday, at the top of Stratton Mountain, I lined up beneath the inflatable banner with dozens of other brave souls who’d signed on for the full distance. Together we flew down a descent that would be the final climb home at the end of the day. Somewhere on the way down, I passed a radar speed

limit sign that blinked 43 mph at me. Not the fastest of the day, I’m sure,

but a pretty good clip for so early in the morning.

It was a mostly downhill run to the first of many well-stocked aid stops, a quick bit of respite on neighboring Bromley Mountain, and a time for feeling out the other riders, forming groups, and making conversation. I found myself among riders from The Ride Group (TRG), wearing kit that proudly said Round Rock, Texas. “It’s a nice break from the heat,” said Eric Tan, one of the TRG riders, on what was one of the hottest Vermont days in August.

The TRG members had flown into Vermont the weekend prior to the event and began riding before the first day of the Challenge, having already covered over 400 miles by Saturday. “My legs are pretty dead,” Eric told me, and as I remarked upon the distance they’d traveled just to get there, he told me, “We’re not the furthest. I think there’s someone here from Israel.”

A total of 312 people participated in the 2016 Vermont Challenge, hailing from 26 states as well as from Puerto Rico, Canada, and, yes, Israel.

STORY BY TIM STEVENS

Taking the long way through the Green MountainsVERMONT CYCLING CHALLENGE

PHOTOS BY HUBERT SCHRIEBL

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As the morning progressed, the well-oiled TRG machine steamed on. I broke off to ride at a more leisurely pace, my cadence frequently interrupted by pangs of nostalgia from various familiar sites and locales, not to mention the sight of a number of “Bernie Sanders for President” signs, supporting the popular Vermont senator.

But it wasn’t long before another fast-flowing team swallowed me up, this one from even farther south. It was the group from Puerto Rico, all wearing matching jerseys that said “Team Mondongo.” It was the third of four custom kit designs they had created just for the Challenge, as it turned out.

“What’s a mondongo?” I asked them. “Soup,” one told me.“Soup?” I asked. “Made from the stomach of the cow,”

he explained.

“Ah,” I said.Despite the absence of tripe or other

intestinal delicacies at various aid stations throughout the day, the well-organized group rode fast and strong and kindly allowed me to draft. They even let me take a few turns pulling at the front, giving a thumbs-up and encouragement in Spanish as I rotated

back in line. Much of their pack banter was

indeed en Español, which left me sadly unable to properly converse with them, but the group displayed an eye-opening mastery of English profanity when a rusty pickup made a risky pass and threatened to send us all into a ditch.

As the day wore on, I split from this group as well — more abruptly this time as they made a wrong turn coming into the town of Chester, heading left instead of following me to the right. It was a poor choice, as Chester happens to be my hometown, and I knew the location of the next aid station quite well: Baba À Louis Bakery.

Baba Louis is a local establishment I’d been looking forward to all day, knowing that they’d have a delicious assortment of delights on offer. Indeed they did, and before riding off, I stuffed my face

with enough fresh bread and crumble-top pastry to offset any and all calories burned so far that morning.

It wasn’t long until I was leaving that final aid station in Jamaica, swilling that final paper cup full of pungent cramp-relief potion and embarking on that final climb back up Stratton Mountain to where we’d begun.

THE GROUP DISPLAYED AN EYE-OPENING MASTERY OF ENGLISH PROFANITY WHEN A RUSTY PICKUP MADE A RISKY PASS.

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Grinding the miles up to the ski resort proved incredibly difficult. A fair climb for a normal ride, this was very nearly more than my legs could handle after already covering over 100 miles.

But grind up that climb I did, passing another radar detector just a few hundred feet from the finish. Though my lungs were stripped of breath, I couldn’t help laughing out loud as the thing blinked a paltry “5” in big red lights. There was no threat of a speeding ticket as I crossed the finish line to the sound of ringing cowbells.

Sohikian is already thinking ahead to 2017, offering discounts to those who bring friends next year with the goal of topping 500 participants. Every rider I spoke with had designs on coming back.

Barbara Bennett, ride coordinator for the Jersey Shore Touring Society, will surely be among those who return. Her group has been participating since the inaugural event, and she not only rode all four days in 2016 but also covered the full distance on Saturday, continuing on to the final mountain day on Sunday.

“As we descended the back side of Stratton in the morning, I was wondering how I was going to get my legs to pedal back up later that day,” she told me. But she made it and is already looking forward to next year’s stop at Wilcox Ice Cream.

I couldn’t wait until 2017 to get a dairy fix though, so I stopped on the drive home at Honeypie Restaurant, a local drive-in at the base of the mountain.

“Is there a bike race or something going on?” the waitress asked me while handing me my drink.

“Something like that,” I said before taking a pull on the best-tasting and most deserved strawberry milk shake of my life.

Tim Stevens is a journalist with 20 years of experience covering everything from video games to exotic cars. He previously served as editor-in-chief of Engadget and presently heads CNET’s Roadshow. Tim spends more time traveling than at home and does much of his writing from tiny seats at 30,000 feet, but when he’s not abroad he can often be found logging miles on the hills of Upstate New York from the saddle of his CAAD10. He can always be found on Twitter @Tim_Stevens.