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NOTE CHANGES FROM .0!
1) Cost is a bit more.
2) Full tour staying at Holiday Inn, double occupancy.
22nd Annual Tour of Scenic Rural Vermont (TOSRV-East)
Fri-Sun, Jun 18-20
This popular trip goes 103 miles along Rte. 100 from Rawsonville
to Waterbury (home of Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream) on Saturday and
103 miles back on Sunday with 3 mountains and great scenery
along the way. Stay at a rustic lodge Friday night (camping
optional) with those participating in the mini option, and at
the Waterbury Holiday Inn on Saturday night where we're served
dinner and breakfast on Sunday. Cost covers Friday and Saturday
lodging, Saturday dinner, Sunday breakfast, parking for the
weekend, sag wagon, maps, and patch. To register, send your
name, address, day and evening phones, carpooling info, and
$60 check payable to AYH/GBC to AYH TOSRV-EAST, 1020 Commonwealth
Ave., Boston, MA 02215. Be sure to indicate if you want the
full tour or the mini option (described below). For info,
call Robin Schulman, (508)851-8022, Jacek Rudowski, (617)361-5273,
or Ellen Gugel, LOWELL::GUGEL.
3rd Annual "Mini" TOSRV-East
Fri-Sun, Jun 18-20
A shorter version of our popular TOSRV-East trip through
Vermont's finest scenery. Approximately 65 miles on Rte. 100
from Rawsonville to Rochester on Saturday and 65 miles back
on Sunday, crossing 2 of the 3 mountain passes the full
TOSRV-East does (including Terrible Mtn.). Stay at a rustic
lodge Friday night (camping optional) with those participating
in the full tour, and at a B&B in Rochester Saturday night
where we're served dinner and breakfast on Sunday. Cost
covers Friday and Saturday lodging, Saturday dinner, Sunday
breakfast, parking for the weekend, sag wagon, maps, and patch.
To register, send your name, address, day and evening phones,
carpooling info, and $60 check payable to AYH/GBC to AYH Mini
TOSRV-East, 1020 Commonwealth Ave, Boston, MA 02215. Be sure to
indicate if you want the mini tour or the full option (described
above). For info, mail Ellen Gugel, LOWELL::GUGEL.
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| TOSRV-East 1993; Tour Of Scenic Rural Vermont; June 19 & 20, 1993
In 1992, I worked very hard to bike this tour and enjoyed it very
much. So I decided to tackle it again this year, although my
body probably wouldn't let me push as much as last year.
Friday, I carpooled with two of the three leaders (Ellen and
Robin) from Littleton, Massachusetts, to Rawsonville, Vermont. It
took about two hours to Brattleboro, an hour for supper, and then
another hour to Rawsonville. Some people pitched tents, others
slept on the old mattresses in the barn, but I slept on an old
mattress in my van. With one mosquito keeping me company all
night and the musty mattress causing me to sneeze, I slept
briefly and frequently.
I took my time Saturday morning: greeting people, filling water
bottles, and rearranging my gear. (Bikers do that, a lot.) I
gobbled down for breakfast and waited for the slow bikers, like
me, to leave. As the last trio left, I casually followed them.
I knew I couldn't push as much as last year, so I just took
things easy. There were two options to this tour: the 65-mile
ride over two mountains and the 105-mile ride over the same two
mountains plus some hills. Although 32 bikers were riding the
long 105-mile trip, 23 bikers and I planned on resting on our
laurels at the 65-mile mark.
Three miles into the ride, I met Larry biking the wrong way. He
stopped to explain that, in the confusion of which van for which
destination, he had forgotten to put his overnight equipment in
any van at all! I agreed to return with him to the start, where
I agreed to take his panniers (no rack on his bike). Then I
accompanied him forward along the route for about 10 miles, where
we discussed the tricky left turn coming ahead and separated. I
found the tricky left turn and was so proud of myself for knowing
what I was doing! I cruised gently along the road, moving slowly
upstream along the river, day dreaming until I arrived in
Chester. CHESTER! I was supposed to be headed for Ludlow, why
was I in Chester? Now I looked at the maps!
I had managed to lose Route 100, the spine of Vermont, and gone
about 20 miles east to Chester. Now I had the choice of
continuing to bluster my way over to Ludlow, but I also knew that
all the bikers ahead of me might well be waiting for me at the
top of Terrible Mountain, before Ludlow. I debated with myself
for a while, and then decided to re-trace my path back to Route
100 and then to follow the official route up and over Terrible
and onto Ludlow. Ugh!
As I was going to St. Ives, I met a man ... you'll guess who!
Larry! He, too, was making good time but in the wrong direction.
So I turned him around, and we returned to the scene of the
crime: the tricky left turn! The trick is that Route 100 did
turn left, and there are plenty of signs, but that Route Mumble
also turns left 100 feet later, since the intersection is shaped
like a backwards letter "F". Anyway, I traveled with Larry to
the bottom of Terrible Mountain, figuring that now he had
traveled the same distance ON the route as he had traveled OFF
the route. We split again, knowing we'd meet in Ludlow. Up and
over Terrible Mountain ... yes, it seemed as terrible as last
year, but I was able to stay in fourth gear this time.
This year, in spite of Larry's run-around, I wasn't the last
person to arrive or to leave Ludlow after breakfast. I then
cruised to the first checkpoint, where I gladly tossed Larry's
panniers into the "right" van, which Larry should have done four
hours earlier. I didn't chat for long, especially with the heavy
fog settling. I continued on to Killington Mountain. The fog was
very heavy, perhaps even a drizzle, at the top of Killington, so
I took brief shelter in the general store. Then I coasted
downhill on the broken pavement, in the rain; no more fog! On to
the second checkpoint, where the temperature rose and I got lunch
at another general store. Vermont's general stores generally
carry everything, but not Gatorade or power bars, a
disappointment for many of the bikers. I was surprised and
delighted at how many of the bikers I got to meet there, but
finally pulled away for the last four miles. I agreed to carry a
six-pack of beer and some wine, since it was such a short
distance to our bed and breakfast inn.
I was quite pleased to have a single room, double bed, first
floor, next to the front door, just around the corner from 1.5
bath rooms. Other people shuffled the luggage around, so I only
had to carry my bag about five feet! Some people walked to the
swimming hole in the nearby river; others biked another 15 miles
to the state park and the waterfalls; some cleaned their bikes
and rearranged their gear. I chose a hot shower and clean clothes
and sipping beer and working my cross-stitch project (bikers do
have other interests!) ... a lovely finish to the afternoon. I
was surprised not to need a nap, but to be able to join in such
invigorating conversation topics as: crystal pyramids, the life
of a radio DJ, aliens from New Jersey, snoring room-mates,
infectious diseases from mosquitoes, and comparative violence in
"Silence of the Lambs", "Jurassic Park", and "Aladdin". Then
dinner and bed, where I slept soundly!
After Sunday morning breakfast, the crowd milled around outside,
finally agreeing that this fog would burn off soon, so off we
started. Being a slow starter, at the end of the pack, I
expected not to see those bikers again: right! But, remember, I
decided to take things easy this trip, not to worry about who was
first or last, especially if it were me!
The fog did lift, the sun did shine, the miles passed quickly.
Around lunch time, I was at a general store at the same time the
long-distance bikers arrived, having traveled 40 miles more than
me that morning. I tried to get some hints about lunch food from
them, by sitting on the front porch and listening to their
conversations as they ordered lunch. But most of them ordered
"the same as yesterday, it was soooooo good!" Eventually I
managed to walk in and ordered the best selling sandwich, which
became turkey with lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise, no hots, no sprouts,
yes Swiss cheese. I finished my sandwich with George, the last
long-distance rider. We left together as the drizzle started; he
was slightly handicapped by an upset stomach and fell behind me:
alone and last.
The rain increased as we rode up Killington; cars needed their
wipers on the maximum speed. Luckily, the temperature was in the
60s, so you kept warm if you kept moving, although you got chilly
if you stood around in the rain. Slow and steady, I managed to
pass about 15 riders between Killington Mountain and the top of
Terrible Mountain. This year I only only needed to shift down to
second gear! After a very brief chat at the checkpoint in the
downpour, I continued to the finish, passing lots of bikers along
the way. Back at Rawsonville, I sat with the luggage, waiting
for others to arrive and take their hot shower.
When Ellen suggested riding back to look for the stragglers, I
was surprised to have enough energy to volunteer and accompany
her. Good thing, too ... the first rider we found had a flat
tire and no spare tube. I offered my spare tube, but it had the
wrong valve. Ellen volunteered a whole free-wheel, an offer
which was quickly accepted!
At this point in the story I must confess that I didn't tour
Vermont on my bike this year; instead, I drove one of the two
support vans. So I had shuttled luggage north and south and now
had Robin's bike packed into the van. Ellen and I lent her
wheel and let the biker continue south as we headed north again,
looking for stragglers. We encountered about 20 riders before we
got to the checkpoint at the top of Terrible Mountain, but George
was missing, so we rode on! We found him, walking his bike up
Terrible, in the pouring rain! Still alone and last!
We volunteered a ride to George, had him remove his wet clothes
and let him huddle in two quilts while sitting next to the heater
for the last 20 miles. We headed south, returned to the
checkpoint, released that van, and continued to the finish,
counting the last six riders along the way. Everyone finished,
cold but safe; everyone warmed up in the hot shower and we slowly
parted our separate ways ... if agreeing to meet for dinner in 30
miles can be called separate ways.
After dinner in Brattleboro, Ellen, Robin, and I drove home to
Littleton, only taking a 24 mile loop due to a missed exit. But
that seemed to fit in with the rest of my weekend ... I'd spent
107 miles supporting the 65-mile trip on Saturday and 143 miles
on Sunday. Add the 127 miles, each way from home, and I'd earned
a 500 mile weekend spent with bikers, wet jackets, slinky Lycra,
muddy chains, and flat tires. All the atmosphere, without the
exercise.
In 1992, I found this group of people very friendly, but
definitely faster than me. That year, there were bikers around
me for the first 15 miles, but I biked up and down Terrible
Mountain alone and last. At breakfast, my daughter volunteered to
bike at my pace, so I had company for the rest of the trip. We
even found another person pedaling at our pace: a man on a
mountain bike, with knobby tires. We three finished the 65-mile
course last, arriving in 9.5 hours. I was exhausted and needed a
nap even to have enough energy for the shower. That Sunday, the
three of us pedaled together the whole way, arriving last at the
finish ... even after all of the 105-milers! Both days were hot,
they ran out of water at a checkpoint, we left a water bottle at
a food stop, we were glad just to finish! I was told later that
my daughter and I were the only people on the trip with mere
12-speeds, without granny gears!
In 1993, I found this group of people very friendly, and quite
solicitous! I had explained to Ellen that I didn't have much
energy: not enough for a biker and not enough for a luggage
stevedore. But bikers shuffled the luggage into and out of the
van at every stop, often with a bucket brigade. And this year, I
was faster than the bikers. On this Saturday, there were bikers
around me for the first 15 miles, what with escorting Larry
around. Again I rode up and down Terrible alone, but not last
and I certainly had company at breakfast. I was the second
checkpoint, so I got to see most of the 105-milers at lunch,
deliver luggage to its 65-mile destination before most riders
arrived, and be cool and rested for the afternoon. On this
Sunday, I saw each and every one of the 105-milers at their lunch
stop, finishing my duty at 12:45. Then I zipped south,
delivering all the luggage ahead of most of the riders. One day
was hot, one day was cold and wet; I didn't run out of water at
the checkpoints; I found a water bottle at a food stop; I enjoyed
myself thoroughly.
Sally
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