Michael: Home Field Advantage?

An army of one
Has lost the battle before
The war has started.

Sunday, January 3, 2016

Every Saturday when I set off on my bike ride Kimme ask me where I’m going and when I’ll get back. I give her my usual trustworthy estimate with the caveat that if I see a big group going the other way, I’ll turn around and try to join them, so I may be back earlier.

It’s rare to see big groups riding up toward Volcan. I’ve maybe seen four group rides in my year here. And I haven’t been able to justify trying to hitch on to them because they were already well past the point where I could justify turning around and still get a decent ride in. So it’s wishful thinking on my part that I’ll ever get to cut a ride short to try to chase down a group of riders heading up the road.

But yesterday my wish came true. I saw a group of 12 riders being escorted up the hill that were well short of my excepted turn around point; the restaurant half way down the 22 mile stretch from Volcan to Bugaba. I turned around and put it into shark mode.

Before I even caught the group, one rider had dropped and another was hanging on to the escort car catching his breath and maybe talking about his options to whomever was inside. I figured just the sight of that, meant these guys had some idea of what they were doing. I’ve never hung on to the side of a car. If I tried, I figure I’d be so nervous I’d wobble until I fell and was run over by the rear wheels of my own team car.

After I passed him on the inside, he must have dropped because I never saw him again.

Shortly afterwards I caught the group. They gave me a little nod, didn’t say anything to me or that I could understand, but their demeanor seemed friendly enough. They also all seemed to be substantially younger than me. I’m guessing at least 20 years younger. They also looked thick; more like triathletes or flatlanders, as opposed to svelte climbers. And I know this hill pretty well so I figured I had home field advantage over these Panamanians.

I went to the front and picked it up a bit to test them out and see if they’d go with me. Immediately, I broke the group in two, which I felt pretty good about and a few minutes later we dropped another rider.

The remaining four riders and I jostled a bit until we reached the restaurant at the halfway point. Then the rider at the back called the group off either because he had to go to the bathroom, or thought they should stop and re-group there and wait for the riders that had been dropped further down the hill.

I headed home alone, again. But for twenty minutes or so I was in my element showing some young whipper snappers that if they’re going to play in my yard, I’m going to rattle my cane and give them a good chase.