The voice recording stated that "as of 6:00 am Saturday, all Univest events will be held at their regular scheduled time..." I looked out the window again to witness the steady rain and whipping winds. The temperature was 58F. I was not looking forward to riding 100K through the remnants of Hurricane Ivan. I almost bagged it, but then I remembered that these rides build character (and there were 3000$ in prizes to the finishers!). The start was delayed about 15 minutes as the organizers explained that the Cyclosportif recreational ride would be shortened from 100K to 40 miles. That eliminated the most difficult climb (the 20% Alp de Rosenberger), the longest climb, and some of the fastest descents. It also meant that we would be back in time to see the elite amateurs racing the circuit through Souderton, PA.

As the ride started I was positioned near the back of the pack of 75 or so riders who showed up to brave the elements out of the 100 or so registered. I only saw one gal. I gradually moved through the pack as we rode through town though I was losing sight of the front six or eight hammer-downs. The open fields provided no shelter from the winds pelting us, at times strong enough to cause me to shift my weight to avoid going down. Riders were making pacts to "work together" so as to lessen the effort, but there weren't enough riders of equal ability and soon the buddy system fell by the wayside and it was every man for himself. This was OK by me since I almost always ride solo and I wasn't comfortable with riding tight under these conditions. As we headed further from town into more wooded areas, the tree lined roads became littered with a fresh coating of wet leaves and virtually covered by scattered thumb-sized sticks :( . Approaching one intersection with a left turn immediately leading into a small hill a rider had dropped a chain and I was glad I fine tuned my front de- as I shifted my trusty downtube shifter into the small ring. The rain became heavier and was blowing straight into my face. I couldn't see sh*t out of my amber lenses so I took my glasses off only to have the rain sting my eyes and making me slow to a crawl. I was hunched over as low as I could get fighting to keep the computer over 20 kph. As the first KOM came up I spied a backhoe on the road scraping up the top layer of pavement that had peeled away from the force of the rushing waters. :eek: The nearby Perkiomen creek was a raging torrent of brown nastiness. I navigated through the rubble and started the climb. Halfway up I was obliged to move over for the Basso-esque rider who appeared out of nowhere. He quickly latched onto the back of the rider ahead that I was closing on and they began to pull away at the top of the hill where the wind resumed its assault. As I pondered whether this guy was a wheel-sucker, a quick glance at my computer showed I was managing 31 kph one hour in, just under my average for this stage of the circuit. Suddenly the pair in front slowed and Ivan pulled over with a flat. His accomplice hesitated deciding whether he could help or not, then opted to go on, but I went like a madman down the next descent and never saw either one after that. At this point I wasn't really trying to race, just wanted to get back quickly.

After another bridge crossing of the flooding creek I couldn't believe what I saw-a cotton-clad overwieght guy on an undersized flat bar bike creeping up the hill. Alas, he had blown up. I had to swing wide left to overtake the car that decided to ride along behind him at 3mph. I passed by another puncture victim and wondered whether I would suffer the same fate. A support vehicle came by and the guys jumped out to clear the biggest branches off the roadway. I believe this was the reconnaisance vehicle that ultimately led to the cancelling of the race on the big-loop road course and confined the elites to the town circuit. I knew they could not possibly hold a race on these roads but I still was not prepared for what I came upon next. Swamp Creek road is one of the favorite rides for local clubs and its a truly pleasant ride on most days. Today however, the water was ankle deep in places and the road was a battlefield of gulley-washed stones and rocks the size of your fist. I was glad to come to the last KOM to get back into (mostly just!) sticks and leaves. I flew down the other side of the hill convinced that I wouldn't catch anyone or be caught again when I saw another flat being changed. I dodged the sticks and stones for another 5 miles as I rode into town, the rain still not relenting. I caught sight of two riders who I thought might be the last of the surviving break as I came to the final dash but as I tried to close they sprinted for bragging rights and I coasted across the finish.

I stood around for a while watching the racers fly by every 7 minutes and grabbed a sandwich and an ice tea (could've used a hot cocoa) and then the chill came over me. The temperature never made it over 60 and the wind chill was reported to be 38. Even though I had a jacket in my truck I had to high tail it home to get a dry change. I came back in time for the prize drawing and didn't win anything but they were offering free Bianchi water bottles for everyone and said to "take 'em all, don't leave any". I ended up with eleven bottles :p , but I wasn't being greedy-there was still around fifty bottles when I left. Besides, I felt a certain entitlement since i was in team gear on my '88 Bianchi.

Oh yeah, a Frenchman won the race followed by two Belgians.

Despite the conditions, Im glad I opted for this ride over the MS150 which I've done before. If you're anywhere near SE PA consider this event.