First, big shout out to Chris for taking care of Stupid for me while I was gone - and kind-of/sort-of watching Jenna.

This weekend was the MMM (Michigan Mountain Mayhem). This was the 4th year of the ride, but my first time participating. I got in on the event late and by a fluke that worked out really well in the long run. Suzanne Peats invited me to join her group on the drive up as she has a huge Chevy Suburban and they had room for another passenger. Since I was staying at the Toledo Ski Club lodge with them, it made sense to ride with them. I accepted the invite, gladly. In the Suburban were, in no particular order, 4 of my favorite people; Tim Book, Monica West, Tim Eckel and the previously mentioned Suzanne Peats.

We arrived at the Perrysburg YMCA on Friday morning at the agreed upon time. We loaded the Suburban with our gear - minus my sleeping bag, pillow and towel - which I had forgotten all about (I blame the Cedar Point trip on Thursday). Suzanne was kind enough to drive back to her house and grab a sleeping bag and a pillow for me! She is such a sweetheart.

With four bikes on the back of the suburban and one on the inside, we set out for Boyne City, Michigan. I brought a book so that I could try to keep from going insane on the 4.5 hour drive. I never opened it once on the drive up. We had so much fun talking and joking that it seemed like the trip was over in 30 minutes. I needed to laugh like that. So did the others, I think.

The Toledo Ski Lodge is just five miles north and east of Boyne City. We arrived sometime before 3pm. We unpacked our stuff and put the bikes in the entry-way to the lodge before we discussed what to do next. There was some hemming and hawing and we eventually decided to head into town and see the sights. Boyne is a gorgeous city. I've been there once before in the summer, but we didn't do much more than visit with Andrea's cousins' mom (Ex-Aunt). This time, we took in Lake Charlevoix and downtown Boyne. As we walked around taking in the scenery, we ran into Brian Funkhouser - another Toledo cyclist - as he and his wife dined on the patio of a local restaurant. This Michigan Mountain Mayhem event closes the main street through downtown Boyne City for packet-pickup and a hosted party on Friday night. Packet-pickup involved standing in line for far too long to pick up our bib (racer number), a wrist band for identifying us for lunch, a bag full of papers that you'll never need and, usually, some goodies that will come in handy. This time, the only goody was a small tube of Chamois Butter.

After we checked in, we shopped a bit. Tim E and I both bought Mayhem jerseys from 2012 since they were on sale for $35. Well, they were $35 if you bought them outside, at the event organizer's table. If, however, you went inside the local bike store, they were $50, for the same exact jerseys. Sometime after we were checked in, they had the rest of the event tent set up and the band began to play. The band was... ok. The food under the tent was expensive. It was $5 for each item. Since we were pretty sure we could get cheaper beer and better food at the restaurant where we'd seen Brian, we went there. The food was yummy. The beer was amazing. I need to remember that one for next time I see it. It's a white bottle/label with pink elephants on it - Delirium Tremens. It was the 2009 World's Best Beer Award winner. Again, we laughed A LOT during dinner.

After dinner, we walked along the shoreline wondering where all the lumber came from that litters the lake bottom. Today, I found out.

We also enjoyed some rather expensive and very tasty ice cream. After that, we returned to the ski lodge and sat around talking until 11pm. We enjoyed some beer that Tim B brought and attempted to get a Euchre game going before turning in. The Euchre game never happened (sadface). Suzanne prepared an egg casserole dish for the morning. We had 8 people from the Toledo area staying at the lodge and participating in the MMM ride. Jim House, Edgar and Patty Rapp were the others.

Early on, Tim B set the standard. He charged up the first 2 hills like it was a race to the top. I, on the other hand, got skirted by 3 girls on the second hill (getting skirted = getting passed by girls). I don't have a problem with getting skirted by people like Suzanne and Monica. They're made of awesome and they're both really strong riders. These three girls weren't. I think they spent their whole wad on that hill because they couldn't get organized after the summit to save their lives. It took me 1/4 mile just to get around them. The rest of the day, Tim B charged up every hill - most of the time waiting for us at the top - sometimes riding on at a reduced pace. As we passed individual riders along the route, many of them latched onto our wheels and added to our group. On the hills, we would stretch the group out. Sometimes the wheel-suckers were able to regroup with us. Most of the time they were not.

We skipped the first rest stop since we didn't need anything. That turned out to be an ok decision. Nobody bonked (ran out of fuel), nobody ran out of water. The rest of the early part of the ride was a series of "Left Turn + Suckfest" because as we kept turning left to be greeted by a hill that just... sucked. Later in the ride, we couldn't even count on it being a suckfest after only left turns. Any random change in direction could greet us with a painful hill climb.

At some point, early in the ride, we each made a guess at what mile of the 130 ride that Tim B would blow up and be unable to continue. The consensus was that he would blow up at some point around mile 85. He sailed past all of our predictions. Though, he did struggle a bit right at the very end. Most of us did. At the second rest stop, we hooked up with Edgar who had left the school 3 minutes behind us. He stayed with us to the very end. He's a great puller! We all took lots of turns pulling. I didn't pull as much as I'd planned or as much as I wanted to pull, though. I really wish I could do longer pulls without getting tired.

There's one section of this ride where those who are doing the 200K - Double Metric Century - go off and do their own 25 mile loop that nobody else does. We debated for half a minute about whether or not we really wanted to do that extra bit. Of course we did! We paid for the whole thing; we were going to do the whole thing. In that extra loop, we passed the same rest-stop twice. We only stopped the first time. We took full advantage of the food and the drink at each and every rest stop (except the first one). They had peanut butter, Nutella, bagels, bread, jelly, bananas, strawberries, oranges, Pop-Tarts, Skittles, Combos, Fig Newtons, chocolate covered raisins, etc., etc., etc. I am quite sure that I didn't take in the full 4300 calories that I burned that day, but I made a solid effort. All day long, at each rest stop, we only stayed until a particular group of riders showed up. They all wore the same jersey with "O2" in gray and white. There were about 15 of them. As soon as they rolled in, we rolled out. I firmly believe that we managed to keep the same lead on them all day, despite the fact that we were only 6-strong. At the last stop, when they rolled in shortly behind us, I made a comment that they were catching up to us. They hadn't realized that we'd been playing a cat/mouse game all day. With this new knowledge, however, they shortened their rest break and got back on the road ahead of us. Jerks.

Once we joined back into the route with the other groups, having finished the 200K-only loop, we made it to the last rest stop before the finish line. At this stop all the talk was about "The Wall".

The Wall is a hill.

It's the last major hill before the end of the ride.

It's not the last hill, but it's the last one that is really difficult to climb. It's an 18% grade. There are steeper hills on this ride. One is a 20% grade. The Wall, however, hits at the 124 mile mark of a 128 mile ride. It has a rather steep lead-in before increasing to 18% grade. It is, in a word, intimidating. Just before we got to the start of The Wall I was pulling with the other 5 closely behind. The road is fairly narrow and we were using the majority of the lane as there was really no shoulder to speak of. We were gaining ground on the O2 team. About 200 yards before the right-turn-suck-fest that is The Wall, a 1957 Chevy Belair driven by a white-haired guy buzzed past us coming within 14 or 15 inches of me and cutting over in a very aggressive way just as he cleared my front wheel. I sat up, yelled "Hey! What the Eff? Come back here!" He slammed on his brakes, pulled to the side, and stopped. He got out of his car and came at me. He was a doughy old guy and he was very angry that we were on HIS road. A yelling match ensued. He told us we don't belong on the road. I told him we have as much right to the road as he does. He told me that we don't pay gasoline taxes and we don't have any right to ride on the road. This went back and forth with full-on spit-flying yelling inches from each other's faces. He threatened to call the cops because we had all rolled through a stop sign. I told him to do it. He said he already did. At some point, he tried to shove me. I got my arms up and he grabbed my right wrist. I twisted my arm out and threw a slow-motion punch at his chin. Apparently my fighting skills haven't improved much since my last fist-fight in 1992. Tim B said my swing was very slow. I thought time just slowed down due to time dilation and adrenaline. Apparently, I was wrong. The old guy leaned back making the swing an almost complete miss. Apparently, my riding glove scratched his chin, though. After the slow motion punch, I stood there with my arm cocked challenging him to touch me again and threatening to blast his jaw with my sloth-like reflexes.

He didn't.

Monica stepped between us hoping to stop the altercation. Tim E pointed out to the old guy that he had passed us on a double-yellow-line. That's when the old guy turned his attention from me to Tim E. I think that would have been a huge mistake, had it continued to escalate. However, Tim told the old guy to just get in his car and go home. The guy stood there in the middle of the road as we all clipped in and continued on our way. I didn't look back as we rounded the corner.

The Wall wasn't that bad. Though, I was on a serious adrenaline high having just gotten into a slow-motion fist fight less than a minute before. The 18% grade wasn't fun. I didn't contemplate walking up, though. It wasn't even a question.

I was going to make it up The Wall.

Just after we submitted The Wall, there was a fairly flat section. As we rode along that road, a sheriff's car flew past us going the opposite direction - toward where the altercation happened - with his lights and sirens going. I tried to flag him down, but he wasn't paying attention, or didn't care, or was too busy with something else.

The remaining 4 miles of the ride was pretty uneventful. Though, Tim E did take off right after The Wall and rode the remainder on his own, ahead of us. As we crested the final hill, we could see Tim passing the O2 team before the finish line. He won for the team. That made me so happy.

When I got to the finish line, I went into the tent and reported the incident to the race coordinator. She called 9-11 for me. Shortly after that, three sheriffs showed up to take my statement. I told them what happened. Then they questioned Tim E. He told them the same thing I told them. Then, we listened to the sheriff tell us the old man's side of the story. Surprisingly, they didn't vary much in the details. The old man still thought he was right. He wasn't, of course. The sheriff assured me that I had nothing to fear and that they were just going to do the paperwork and let it drop. They assured us that they did their level-best to educate the old man about the rules of the road and the rights of cyclists. Good luck with that!

After that, we went into the tent and enjoyed some free food and $4 beer. We talked about the incident and then we went down to the beach. We took off our shoes and socks and walked out into the frigid water. We kneeled down and let our knees soak in the cool water. It felt so good. Then, we rode back to the high school. Tim E decided to run back to the ski lodge while the sane people in our group opted to return via Suzanne's chariot. First, however, we went to a local carryout and bought a mix/match 6-pack of craft brews and some chips. On the way back to the ski lodge, we passed Tim E running along the roadside. Just after that, we passed one of the SAG (Support And Gear) vehicles that had been on the course earlier. This particular SAG wagon was cool because, 1) It is an old VW bus, and 2) instead of (or perhaps in addition to) a horn, this VW bus had a bike bell mounted outside somewhere. When it passed us on the ride, he rang the bell. I half turned around expecting to see some guy on a race bike with a kid's bell on the handle bars. Instead, I turned and saw the VW bus. When Tim was running back, he said the guy rang the bell at him, again. I should figure out how to mount one of those on my car!

Saturday night, we sat around the fireplace at the lodge drinking craft beer and a bottle of Cab/Sav that I brought and a bottle of Malbec that Tim E brought. Suzanne broke out a big bowl of veggies and some ranch dip. We at most of that. It was an amazing night with even more laughs. I don't know what time I fell asleep, but woke up on the couch with all the lights off and nobody around. It was 1:18 am. Next year, I'm bringing more food and wine instead of just wine.

Sunday, we woke up and went for a "Club ride" that included no club members. It was supposed to be a 40 mile ride. With all the wrong turns and a shortcut, we ended up with 46 miles. It was a gorgeous ride that took us north to Petosky and Bay Harbor. That part of Michigan is so beautiful. Then we packed up and drove home.

By the numbers

2 of the 10 women who did the double metric were in our group

Results

Not a lot of pictures to go with this post, gang. Sorry.