Felasco - I now "get it"

I'm sure that 10 years ago I was at least privy to the hype, interest, & curiousity leading up to the inaugural Tour of San Felasco.  I'm near positive that many in the extensive cycling community I was then part of in Tallahassee, FL even tried to include me.  But for the life of me, I cannot remember a single damn ride report, funny story, or an origination of the annual "cult-ing" this ride has evolved into.

Ten years ago I was just about at the end of my successful-yet-brief bike shop owner/operator career.  I was on the back-side of many years being known as "that big guy with mad bike skillz".  The closing of Big Tony's Treads allowed me to fine tune my promising amateur status of "exceptional beer drinker" and ready myself for the transition to "professional drunk".  Guess it's getting clearer why I don't remember the evolution of Felasco...

Fast forward through the move to Kansas City, the six-month drunk that followed, getting dried out and sustaining sobriety, becoming a father, near-death harescramble crash, stumbling into an exceptional IT career, adding another kid to the mix and BAM...I'm 40 freakin' years old and had been off bicycles for nearly 7 years.***  Bike riding now seemed like something new worth checking out after years off and it was exactly that - a fresh start.  Fell in love with human-powered two-wheelers much like I did when I was 4 years old.  Mountain biking, road biking, night rides, trials - hell, even BMX has snuck in - all felt wonderfully familiar, but totally new.

Re-connecting a wee bit with some of the ol' Tallahassee crew as a result of being a "born again cyclist" soon put Felasco on my radar.  Wasn't ready for and/or simply couldn't make the 2011 edition, but I was up at 5am CST November 1st to make sure I committed to taking part in 2012 (thanks again, Big Jim!).  Hot damn - I'm in, and most all my old buddies are, too!

I went to Felasco as Big Worm's bitch - I'll do what Worm does, however fast, slow, far or crazy.  If he says it, I will do it.  I'd kept in shitty contact with this man over recent years, but dammit, I've never trusted anyone more when it came to anything bike-related, plain and simple.  He'd given me lots of his veteran tips and as the substantial Bike Chain gang I was now part of rolled out, I was full of utmost confidence that this would be epic.  I was in no way disappointed.

It's an interesting environment this Felasco thing - everyone seems to know each other, all stories and comments stem from previous years, yet what this day holds is not at all certain.  We get in a good sized train and begin enjoying some suhweet, grooving singletrack while barking out random insults and inappropriate comments among our little self-contained, 15 rider "pack".  It's cold, or at least Florida-cold, and all Wrecking Ball comments aside the humidity made it cut through this Kansas City skin.  My legs felt good, but like they'd never fully warm up.  "Relax, Big Worm says you're ready, you'll be fine - just relax, ride, and enjoy" kept ringing through my head.

Just soaking it all in - the place, personalities, tasty goodness of the trail - had the first 10 or so miles fly by and it was time for a PB & J at the first sag stop.  Wasn't really a "stop", but a "slow down enough", and that was all it took for Big Jim to politely bid farewell.  I'll admit, watching him ride off from the rest of the Bike Chain gang effed with me a bit.  I wanted to chase him.  I coulda hung on his wheel I'm pretty damn sure, but the urge to prove it quickly faded.  Maybe next year.  For now, it was more entertaining to stick with Big Worm and enjoy riding the coat-tails of his...celebrity ?  Notoriety?  Legend?!?  Seemed no matter what group of riders we came up to and worked around (sometimes smoothly and politely, other times a bit more elbow-esque), people knew who he was, who we/Bike Chain were, and they allowed us our own rights to the trail.  Cool.

At the 2nd sag stop I could feel myself twitching a bit.  I didn't really wanna stop for long and cool down enough to have to re-warm up.  Didn't really wanna shoot the breeze in a stationary manner, but I was a virgin to this deal - I felt good, but maybe taking your time a bit was what made the whole 62 miles possible.  The trail and the mo-jo continued to impress as we worked our way to lunch.  The group thinned out and re-grouped by lunch where I again found myself a bit anxious to simply slam more food and get back to pedalling. 

In the next "section"/miles I let my legs (and various wisdoms bestowed upon me by the Worm) guide me and found myself riding away from the group a bit on the wheels of some folks I never used-ta-could hang with (Little Ball and whatever Darien goes by).  Felt good, but kinda like I was cheating on Big Worm, Human Wrecking Ball and others.  That feeling dissolved when we stopped just long enough at the 3rd sag to re-hydrate & urinate & see the rest of BC folks ride on by.  Now, I got to chase 'em back down!  When we caught back up to Big Worm et al, Darien disappeared to do Pilate's or stretch, and Little Ball checked out.  Big Worm quickly (and thankfully) let me know that if I wanted to do the full 62 I'd better jump on Little Ball's wheel as no one else felt they needed more than "just" 50 miles.

As me & Little Ball reached the "Extra Credit" 12 mile loop, I was second-guessing my decision to leave the safety of BW's company and/or whether or not I had the gumption for 62 miles, but that quickly faded with another PowerBar, PowerGel and gulps of Heed to wash it down.  Little Ball eased me into and through the first few miles while my legs came back around.  2nd wind?  37th wind?  I dunno, but I nearly felt guilty how good I got back to feeling.  This section of trail was spec-fugging-tacular!  I'd say even the best of the day.  Seemed kinda unfair that it was only for those willing, able and on-time enough to do it at the end.  Somewhere along the way L'il Ball said "why don't you lead, now?" and that was about the last I saw of him.  Did I mention I was feeling good?

The remaining 10 or so miles were a mix of perfect rythym, pride, and talking out-loud to myself kind of crazy as I was truly all alone and still tired enough to wonder if I'd not missed a turn somewhere.  Pride and satisfaction were near over-whelming as I got glimpses of the crowd of people, bikes and cars at the finish.  I did it.  I fugging did it - 62 miles on a mountain bike in right around 6 hours rolling time. 

It all gets kinda fuzzy from there to/through the brief road trip back to Tallahassee -  Diet Pepsi injections, packin' a fat dip of congratulatory Copenhagen (yes, ironic, I realize), group feast at local joint, too much picking on Wrecking Ball, post-ride flatulation in Big Jim's F-150  - through all of it continuing to relish the thought that "I finally got to do Felasco.  Got to do it with 84% of the ol' crew.  Felt good doing it.  I get it, now".

*** some, many or all of these "fast forward" topics will surely be touched on again later, some day, in some way ***