Cherohala 07- Pt. 2 - Blood on the Shores of Lake Chilhowee

Our group fell apart as several of the members swung through the first feed area (at mile 20) to gather food. I was, unexpectedly, the owner of an empty water bottle due to the early heat, and so I stopped to fill up as well, knowing that it would be 34 more miles with lots of climbing before I'd get the chance to fill again. Leaving in ones, twos, & threes, several riders eventually gelled into another group and within a few miles we were moving at a good clip along the foothills that lead to the flat flat flat section of US 129 that runs alongside Lake Chilhowee.

The Beast was up front putting the hurt on everybody with a pace that could only be intended to shell the weaker riders from the pack, but alongside the scenic lake, with a headwind blowing, everyone was willing to go cross-eyed to keep up. Seeing that the tough pace wasn't working, he slowed a bit and we settled in at 20 mph as we passed the boat ramps and fishing areas.

I was riding in the middle of the peleton, and we were cruising easily. No hard efforts being expended when 2 rows ahead of me, a rider suddenly swerved, clipping the front wheel of the rider behind him and knocking down that rider, who also took down several others with him. The rider to my right began to swerve into me to avoid the pileup, leaving the two of us as the likely next victims. Luckily the rider to my left had moved into the lane of oncoming traffic opening up a gap between him and the pile of twisted bikes and bodies for me to shoot through safely. The rider to my right didn't make it and became the next addition to the pile.

We all stopped and while we waited for our hearts to stop racing from the near miss, we tried to help sort out the pile, extracting bicycles and helping fallen riders to the side of the road. The motorcycle support that was following us was on the scene right away and helping as well. Despite a few bleeding elbows and knees, and a broken spoke or two, there was no serious injury and we were quickly on our way again.

I resolved that I was going to stay up front where this sort of thing doesn't happen and so I picked my way through and found Doug's wheel, with 5 miles left until the climbing began at Tabcat Creek, the entrance to the Tail Of The Dragon.

Now, I'm not the fastest climber in the world. When Cathy and I were first married, I weighed nothing and had a tremendous strength to weigh ratio and could fly up a hill. 19 years later, I'm considerably heavier and weaker, so when the road tilts up, my normal response is to let the group go on and set my own tempo, the result of which is that I watch as the group disappears up the hill ahead of me. This time however, I found that for the time being, I could match the pace set by Jeff and Doug. Noticing this, the Beast (Jeff) upped the ante and got a wheel length on me. He said to me, "thanks for leaving me in the parking lot, I won't forget it". I began to plead for mercy, but he was showing none and despite my best efforts, each time I matched his speed, he'd raise it again. About 2 1/2 miles into the first climb I finally lost sight of him for good as he rounded a corner.

The Tail Of The Dragon is my favorite part of this ride. As they proudly announce on their website, this portion of US 129 has 318 curves in 11 miles. A good video of a motorcycle riding this road is here:



Smooth roads and lots of curves keep the climbing portions interesting and make the downhill sections nothing short of thrilling. Think of rolling down a hill at 35 mph with consecutive 90s and 120s and you don't have to hit your brakes, just keep increasing the lean and you shoot right through.

Anyway, I rolled up to the 2nd feed station about 4 minutes behind The Beast, but 8 minutes slower than last year, and feeling pretty spent. I had serious doubts that I would continue the ride past the 3rd feed area. I had gone too deep, too often, too early to have much hope of finishing.

Tomorrow, What Joyce Kilmer didn't know about Trees.