The MS150 was a wonderful experience – great weather, a tail wind, and no crashes. It’s hard to sum it up in a few paragraphs, which is why I’ve procrastinated about it, but here goes.

We were invited to start Saturday at an alternative spot with a few other teams (Xerox, Weatherford, etc.) at 6:00am, a full hour before the official start. This meant we were out in front of the pack of 13,000, which is a huge advantage for riding comfort and safety. What we didn’t anticipate was the pea soup fog, fog thicker than any I’ve ever driven in, let alone biked in. Add this to about 50 minutes of riding in the dark, and it was a surreal experience. We were escorted by police and pace cars, so the traffic dangers were negligible, but it was difficult to see the road and we quickly became soaked. I still found it exciting, and as dawn broke, a scissor-tailed flycatcher flew above my head. We were in the Katy Prairie, the only flat part of the ride.

The ride to La Grange was beautiful, through rolling country, and the wildflowers were spectacular in spots. I usually skip the first two rest stops on long rides so I can shake off some of the pack. This time, though, I didn’t notice that we had passed one rest stop in the dark, since it wasn’t open yet. This meant that the first stop I took turned out to be lunch in Bellville. We (me and the former president of my company, who became my riding partner for both days), arrived at lunch at 8:30am.

After “lunch”, some of our teammates (as well as a guy riding in a chicken suit) having caught up with us, we continued to make good time due in part to the favorable winds. We were riding above 20mph much of the way, although the hills did slow us down some (going up, that is, going down was fast and fun). My favorite part was the ride through Fayetteville, a town of about 250 folks, every one of whom had turned up in the quaint downtown with about four out-of-town friends apiece, all brandishing cowbells and sleighbells. Riding through the turns of downtown Fayetteville with bells ringing and people cheering, I could imagine we were riding through some Alsatian town in the Tour de France. I still get shivers thinking about it.

Day 1 was 90 miles, with the last bit into the wind and uphill; we got into La Grange around 12:30 and so beat the legendary lines for the showers. For future reference, this is a good thing.

To digress for a few sentences, I have realized recently that my experience backpacking through Europe for a whole summer in college serves me well when participating in events such as this. Although I rode with a work-sponsored team, none of my close work friends were riding, and I only knew one team member well at all. I had no idea what to expect for accommodations, other than there was “a tent”. Bathrooms, showers, food, weather, etc., were all unknowns. I don’t mind this at all, I’ve slogged through mud and rain and run out of money (temporarily) and arrived in a foreign town with no place to stay, and it was fun. I think this is where Ed and I differ the most; he would not (and did not) take part in any event that held any potential surprises. I, on the other hand, knew that whatever the circumstances were, I could deal with them and would even enjoy them. And I did. A lot.

Anyway. Our tent was on the edge of the Fayette County fairgrounds, where the throngs of riders stay overnight. There was a midway with rides, stages for bands, temporary bike shops, and it would have been a wild party if everyone wasn’t so tired. We just hung out, had a few beers, an early dinner, and went over every once in awhile to see the late finishers come in. The late finishers are far more inspirational than the early finishers; they include the old, the young, and especially the multiple sclerosis patients, some of whom do ride.

By nine o’clock, everyone was ready for bed. We decided we would get up at 4:30am for the start lineup, as the experienced MS150 riders knew that there was no sleeping past then anyway. We also decided not to put the sides on the tent, which turned out to be one of those big party type tents with no floor. That made for nice camping, few bugs, some cricket noise, but we all had earplugs anyway and I slept like a rock.

I was one of the first up; our support team had coffee brewing, and it was actually GOOD coffee, welcome at that hour to be sure. We ate quickly and got our jerseys and shorts on, and I suddenly noticed I had a flat tire to change. My only flat the whole trip, and it happened overnight. Good luck!

Then the only annoying part of the whole endeavor. The riders are not allowed to leave until 7am on Sunday, but being in front is always best. We decided to get in line at 5:30, which believe it or not put us just forward of the middle of the pack. That hour and a half standing in bike shoes holding our bikes was not fun, but then again, it wasn’t so bad, and I did learn some awful jokes.

Eventually we did get to start of course, and as we left La Grange the third signature visual memory of the ride was made (first was the flycatcher in the fog, second was the bell ringers in Fayetteville). We came out of the chute as a group of about fifteen CapRock riders, and I dropped to the back of the group. We formed a pace line as we came down the entrance ramp to highway 77, and looking at the fourteen yellow jerseys in front of me, all moving forward in perfect unison, I really felt like I was on a world class cycling team.

The second day ride was effortless. I really didn’t feel as if I had ridden the day before; even with a less than perfect night’s sleep, I had fully recovered from the 90-mile ride. We had elected as a team to take the less hilly route to Austin so we could cross the finish line more or less as a group. I’ve decided next year I will take the other route which is more scenic, but this year I wanted to finish with the team. We collected at the last rest stop, not the full team but at least twelve of us. Then it was a nicely placed ride into Austin. We came in through the UT campus, then a few blocks to the finish. We rode in formation as a team, four abreast. There were a lot of spectators screaming, and we were all grinning ear to ear.