I had a day of fun, camaraderie, speed and scenery at the Tour De Talbot this year. This was my third TDT, and it’s an area that I like to visit, so I signed up early.

I had a strange approach to the Tour De Talbot this year. The weather was threatening and thunderstorms were in the forecast. I was tempted to simply cancel my hotel room and stay home. Though it didn’t look good, and even the organizers were making plans in the event of thunderstorms, I decided not to let the potential for rain stop me and I went to Easton on Friday afternoon resigned to accept what the weather would send my way. I got my packet and shirt, found a nice spot for sushi (Sakura on Rte 50 West in Easton), and went to bed with a “wait and see” attitude.

Normally at such times I’m excited. That implies a kind of tension, which feels normal to me. I had no such tension that day. The forecast I looked up on Saturday morning looked hopeful. No thunderstorms forecast until late afternoon. It looked like the Tour would happen, and we would stay dry. I went to the ride start at the Easton Fire Hall feeling relaxed. I had given myself plenty of time to prepare, and I got ready to ride slowly and carefully. My friend Stephanie had a group of riders that I was welcome to join, and I gladly accepted. We would all meet in front of the Easton Fire Hall at 7:30. It turned out to be a large and friendly group.

We started out at a conversational pace, around 15 mph, and it was nice to talk to new people. I spent a lot of time at or near the front of the pack, and I was enjoying myself as we rolled through town and then northeast into the open expanse of Talbot County beyond Route 50 that most travelers miss. I have a good memory for routes, and I was confident in the road markers. I didn’t need to look at my GPS, even though I had downloaded the route.

It was extremely humid and my glasses were fogged, so I took them off. Since it was overcast I didn’t need them, and I decided to clean them at the first rest stop and wear them afterward. I had planned on riding the 40 mile distance, and many of the riders in the group were riding the metric. I decided to stay with the group on the metric course for the first half of the ride, then finish on the 40 mile route after the ferry from Oxford to Bellevue. It added 5 miles or so to my total, but I had done the same last year and it felt fine to me.

Some of the roads on that part of the course had been recently chip sealed. That means they added tar and fine gravel to the surface of the road, which traffic compacts over time. For cyclists with road tires (like myself) this presents the dual danger of sliding on the gravel and getting flats from it. You have to be very careful on that surface. I wanted to be on my gravel bike with its wide tires on those roads – and true to the nature of such surfaces there were several riders who had flat tires in those sections. I was lucky and made it through intact. We were all happy to get back on smooth pavement again.

We approached Trappe, a town east of Easton at route 50, and despite some concern in the group about route markings, I knew the way. I took the lead and pulled the group toward the first rest stop. I had to pick up the pace to get our group through a green light as we crossed Route 50, but we managed, and I made the correct turn for the first rest stop, which I promptly rode past. Thankfully my friends didn’t, so I turned back when they called and got a rest, some snacks, and some Gatorade for my water bottles.

We were less than 15 miles from the Oxford-Bellevue ferry, where we get a rest no matter what we do, so some of the team decided to pick up the pace. Naturally I picked up speed with enthusiasm. We didn’t have much wind to contend with, and with a wide shoulder and light traffic on the way to Oxford the team really got moving. I’m sure I was grinning like a madman as we set a brisk pace that I felt I could manage, knowing that I would get a rest at the ferry. Oxford is a pretty little town. I’ve stayed there on a vacation mini-break, and I appreciate its charm. It looked like they had a sports car rally there as we came in, and I watched the cars go by with interest. We cruised to the ferry dock just as the ferry came in, so we went aboard without stopping for drinks or food.

From the ferry to the decision point between the 40 and 62 mile routes we were still moving well, and I was enjoying the speed. I was riding strong in a line of riders, doing my share. Coming off the ferry I knew that I had less than 15 miles to go to get my 40 miles, but I was being encouraged to go for the full metric. I knew that my training to this point wasn’t that impressive, and I felt that it was likely that I would begin to suffer a little in the final miles if I went the full 62 mile distance, so I stayed on my course. It was a close run thing though. I wanted to keep riding. I was feeling good at the final decision point and more miles sounded inviting.

Practicality having won out, I rode the last 3 miles on my own. I rode with joy and power, and got back feeling very satisfied with my experience. I had spent that entire ride living in the moment. No plans or expectations. I just took in the sights as I rode along and rode like a good team member when I was needed. Since I wasn’t sure if there would even be a ride for me that day because of the weather, it was a small joy just getting a ride in. I may not be riding as many events now as I once did, but I still enjoy them and this is one event that I’ll continue to ride in the future.