AHH yes the Goatneck,
This was my maiden voyage on the Tour de Goatneck as well as my blood brother Marc’s first cycling event since the 80’s. That being said….here is what the ride was like for me.
Marc and I crashed at the (Not so) Comfort Inn in Cleburne Friday night and took in some good ole Pasta at a little place called Napoli’s. After getting my pre ride shave on I crashed for the night. We got up early enough to take in a bagel, a waffle, and some other miscellaneous breakfast items and, of course much like Ken so eloquently puts, did what we could only do for ourselves! Then we headed off to the HS for the start. As we were getting ready putting our game faces on…out of no where comes the unmistakable voice with an ever so thickly laced German accent piping something about needing to register and better hurry! I glanced around in time to see Jed, Ken, and Dieter.
It was an honor to have bestowed upon me the authentic Wheel Brothers Jersey which Dieter was gracious enough to heave ho my way in the parking lot as the gun shot went off to start the ride! (I can’t stress enough how cool it was to ride with that jersey and to be a part of your group). The 5 of us met up in the chaos of the initial start and after introductions went around for those who didn’t know each other we were ready to ride! As we turned the first corner we past Dieter who was on the phone….as usual when he is on his bike! He was talking and looking for Sean. We decided to ride along at a slower pace so he could catch up…..by the way….I never saw him!
Jed, Ken, and Dieter were feeling it….they were ready to rock the Goatneck at a pace much faster than my brother and headed out. I hung back with Marc so we could pace in together…..it gets lonely on a ride when you don’t know anyone around you! As we approached the first rest stop we saw the Three Wheel Brothers and yes….Dieter was still on the phone! They said they would wait for Sean and catch up.
Somewhere between the fist and the second rest stop I hear behind me….”ON YOUR LEFT” in a rather frantic….I am going way to fast to slow down so get the hell out of my way tone of voice…..as the red streak flew by it was the infamous three Wheel Brothers….The next thing I heard was Dieter’s thick German accent hollering out…”C’mon Fat boy Keep up!” My brother and I got a good kick out if it…right about the time we realized….this ride was nothing but hills!
About midway through the ride as I was trying to take Marc’s mind off of the pain that was no doubt running through his muscles from riding longer than he has ever ridden before, I blurt out, “You know, this is an awesome ride….I think I am going to do this every year from this point forward.” No sooner did I get that sentence out did we round the corner to what would be the biggest climb of the day! As Marc flipped me off we took off up the slope. We gutted it out as if the finish line was on the crest of the hill. Afterwards I was warned that I better not say that again or I would get punched in the nose!
The rest of the hilly ride went well, for my brother Marc this was a huge event for him. Finishing was his goal and finish he did. After 70 miles of drooling hilly terrain we crossed the finish line with heads held high.
It truly was a good day….after all…..we could have been at home mowing the yard or something!! 😀