"You guys might not know this, I'm kind of a loner. I kinda think of myself of a one man wolf pack."
My teammate Bryan Deal and I had the pleasure of making the invite list to what can only be described as Spring Mountain Madness in the Smokies coordinated by teammate Tom Sterling and his close friend and cyclist Michael G. A trip that simply can't be summarized in a few simple words. Each day deserving a least a short story and/or list of highlights and mishaps. The following is what remains of my memory.Departure and Warp Speed to Gatlinburg, TN.
We were locked, loaded and on our way from Tom's by 11:30 with bikes in tow on quite possibly the best rack on the planet on loan from our team captain which seemed to be perfectly designed for Admiral Sterling's Envoy.
After a quick assessment of all necessities for the voyage it was apparent the crew of the SS Envoy would certainly perish on the journey due to boredom or insight a mutiny without essential XM satellite radio entertainment. Understanding the severity of the situation, Michael sprung into action, dialing XM radio to mitigate the potentially deadly situation. Using his powers of persuasion he was able obtain a 90 day free trial of XM radio. After only a few minutes the radio sprung to life and the crew of the Envoy quieted. It was then that I first noticed the hint of red clothing peaking out from under his collar. With our new source of musical entertainment, black berries and hours of conference calls, the drive flew by. With the exception of a roll over accident in southern Kentucky, traffic was unbelievably light. Apparently, the driver lacked the third grade education to comprehend the recall notices they had been receiving in the mail for the Firestone tires on their vehicle. You could clearly see the tread peeled from the rear tire of the SUV as it laid on it's roof. Luckily the family looked more shaken than stirred as all 8 that had inhabited the vehicle sat outside it as the emergency crew attended to them. As we neared Gatlinburg Tom's patience wore thin and he decided to engage the Envoy's warp engines, powering us in speeds in excess of 100 mph. We arrived at our top secret destination in Gatlinburg at approximately 8pm. 6 hours ahead of schedule.
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| From Precision Adventures - March 2010 Edition |
After a quick assessment of all necessities for the voyage it was apparent the crew of the SS Envoy would certainly perish on the journey due to boredom or insight a mutiny without essential XM satellite radio entertainment. Understanding the severity of the situation, Michael sprung into action, dialing XM radio to mitigate the potentially deadly situation. Using his powers of persuasion he was able obtain a 90 day free trial of XM radio. After only a few minutes the radio sprung to life and the crew of the Envoy quieted. It was then that I first noticed the hint of red clothing peaking out from under his collar. With our new source of musical entertainment, black berries and hours of conference calls, the drive flew by. With the exception of a roll over accident in southern Kentucky, traffic was unbelievably light. Apparently, the driver lacked the third grade education to comprehend the recall notices they had been receiving in the mail for the Firestone tires on their vehicle. You could clearly see the tread peeled from the rear tire of the SUV as it laid on it's roof. Luckily the family looked more shaken than stirred as all 8 that had inhabited the vehicle sat outside it as the emergency crew attended to them. As we neared Gatlinburg Tom's patience wore thin and he decided to engage the Envoy's warp engines, powering us in speeds in excess of 100 mph. We arrived at our top secret destination in Gatlinburg at approximately 8pm. 6 hours ahead of schedule.
(Not really, the speedometer broke but, we did arrive at 8pm.) Our accommodations were amazing. A two bedroom condo, equipped with a full kitchen, fire place and balcony with a partial view of the mountain and overlooking a small river/creek.
Less women and children, the group moved with incredible efficiency, unloaded and headed to the Smokey Mountain Brewery. Our overly friendly waitress Brandy ensured our grumbling stomachs were satisfied with some fantastic house burgers and wings with signature sauce, while our thirst was quenched with some fabulous porters and ale. Brandy also combated our sarcasm and poor jokes by nicknaming Bryan "Mouth", threatening to no longer serving us and tell us stories of her childhood, education and children. After a short walk home and a Guinness or two around the fire it was lights out at 11:30.
Ascent, Wind Burn and Frozen.
Our excitement stirred us from our bed at approx. 6am. Given nothing is open or working except the grocery store and police before 7am in Gatlinburg. Including the TV. The decision was made that a grocery run would be the best use of time before breakfast. In usually man-fashion, we ventured out without directions to find the nearest grocery store. Using Tom's interna-man-compass we found the store and stocked up on vital supplies for the trip. After a fantastic, oatmeal, raisin and brown sugar breakfast at the Log Cabin Pancake House we huddled around Tom's computer to plan the timing of our ascent to Clingmans Dome. Hoping to avoid as much of the forecasted 70% rain as possible. Given the temperature was near it's predicted maximum for the day (high 40's), we decided no time was better than the present. It was during our preparation that our suspicions were confirmed. Michael G. was no ordinary man. He emerged from his room dawning his crimson red, crime fighting, bulletproof, super hero uniform. We were in the presence of Bikeman.
After wiping the tears of joy from my eyes, Bikeman pryied Bryan from his leg and the excitement faded, we gave the bikes a final check over and left to begin our 20 mile ascent.
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| From Precision Adventures - March 2010 Edition |
We made a short stop at the visitors center just outside of town and the scenic road began to wind and reach towards the top of the mountain obscuring our view ahead. The climb was serious from the that point on. The elevation was steep and I was forced into my second to lowest gearing almost immediately (42-23). Within the first mile I was already having an internal debate of whether I had been too confident and my choice not to gear down my bike for the trip was a mistake. I think Bryan was doing the same as he questioned whether his conditioning was going to be sufficient to last the day and he remainder of the rip. The rest of the climb was a challenge but, pure enjoyment. With the group in tow, Bikeman would power up a series of switch backs for a mile or two then we'd regroup, rehydrate and refuel at an overlook or point where the shoulder had widened. The leafless trees offered an unobscured view of the scenery. As we climbed the temp dropped, snow appeared in the ditches and the once running water turned to ice. Probably 14 miles and 11 or so into the climb and ~1 from the road to Clingman's dome, the wind picked up and the rain started. The wind was intense and seem to freeze our sweat soaked clothes almost instantly. As we rounded a corner further up, the wind became almost over powering. Bikeman and I had gapped Tom and Bryan. Realizing I was a mere mortal and did not posess the power of flight or fire, Bikeman noted that we may need to make a call on whether to continue or begin our decent. We decided to climb one more switchback and make a call at that point. Coincidentally, around that corner was the Newfound Gap overlook. We decided it was a good place to regroup and make a decision to continue or turn back. We again regrouped and after a quick chat with a clearly starved for human contact, Appalachian trail, hiker. Tom's internal man-compass was telling him the road to Clingman's Dome and the final 7 miles of ascent was just around the corner. So, we decided to continue our climb. As we neared the road a construction worker posted in a truck rolled down his window and flagged us down to Guard posted informed us that the road was not just closed for the season but, unpassable due to construction. Give the weather, that was all of the information we needed. The rain had picked up and the weather quickly deteriating. The temperature had to be near freezing. We used a snowbank as a make shift camera tripod and snapped a couple of group pictures and began our decent.
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| From Precision Adventures - March 2010 Edition |
This was the point that I realized that I was not only in the company of one man that possessed super powers but, two. Bikeman and Tom began their decent ahead of Bryan and I. At this point the roads were completely wet and we were freezing. With both men possessing the power of flight, Bikeman and Tom were completely out of view after only a few turns. It was clear they were hovering just above the pavement in order not to draw too much attention as they bombed down the mountain at speeds exceeding 40 miles an hour. At points the actually caught traffic, causing them to pull over in fear of being knocked out of the way. Being mere mortals and fearing for our safety, Bryan and I decented together at a much more conservative speeds and only reached a maximum speed of about 38 mph. It was unbelievable rush on the downhill. While traffic would catch us on the straights, we'd quickly gap cars as we winded through the hair pin, 20 mph turns. My hands and toes were freezing and my metal brake levers felt like knives cutting into my hands. Bryan I stopped twice on the way down to regain the use our frozen appendages. The super humans awaited below in the visitors center warming themselves under the hand dryers. We pedaled back through town to the secret hideout with a total of about 32 miles for the morning. We were completely frozen. We huddled around the fire place to try and warm our near frozen feet and hands. After warming up a little, I looked over my bike and realized I had burned through at least 1/2 of the new brake pads I had put on for the trip. I don't think a hot shower ever felt so good. There was a period where my toes felt as if needles were being jabbed into them as they regained feeling. After cleaning up and the super heroes changed back into their disguises, we headed over for the buffet at the Log Cabin Pancake house. Salad, soup, fried chicken, biscuits and gravy, pasta, you name it. It was fabulous. The afternoon slipped away.
The group cleaned their filthy bikes and we napped as Micheal attended to some business over the phone for the Daily Planet newspaper or wherever he works. The peer pressure and shine of the other clean bikes in the condo was too much for me to bare so, I decided to clean up the Frankendale a little. After wiping down the rear tire, I discovered it was indeed a good decision. The sidewall of my rear tire had been sliced at some point on the ride and he tube was bubbling through it. It was nearing 5pm so, we needed to act quick. Bryan sprang into action and performed a quick search of the area for the nearest bike shop and we raced to the Envoy. After a quick call to the first bike shop to confirm their location and hours we discovered it was closed. However, in the spirit of true southern hospitality, the person on the line offered to meet us later that evening in Gatlinburg with a replacement tire. Being a risk adverse person, I decided that it'd be best to hedge our bets and try to reach the next closest bike shop and take the kind stranger up on his offer if our search for the shop was fruitless. At this point we had only an hour to travel to the next closest shop Shifting Gears which was located approx. 15 miles away in Sevierville. Now 15 miles does not seem too far. However, in the Gatlinburg area, it is at least an hour drive and we only had about 1/2 of that. Even with Tom driving no less than 120mph now (speedometer still broken), it was going to be tough to make it. Traffic was a mess and the GPS useless. It had us driving in circles. After a series of calls to the shop and friendly directions, we made it to the shop 3 minutes before closing time at 6pm. We receive fantastic service, chatted about our adventures and attempt on Clingman's Dome, purchased an inexpensive tire and some brake pads (just in case), got great directions on how to get back to Gatlinburg and avoid traffic, discussed some other potential rides in the area and were on our way. Many thanks to Shifting Gears. Not only would I recommend them to anyone based on their customer service, they really saved my behind.
After installing the new tire, cleaning and taking all of the new slack in the brake cables on my bike, we had dinner a nearby Mexican restaurant and washed it down with the perfect beverage to accompany the meal, Dos XX's amber.
Stay tuned. More to come.
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