September 21, 2010 (Collingwood, ON) – There isn’t a hint of light at 5:00 a.m. in September, but if we want to get to the Centurion 50 for a 7:30 a.m. start. We will ourselves out of bed and put on those familiar garments – cycling shorts, tights, wool socks (it’s 3+C), and three light layers on top. Chow down a real breakfast and make sure the coffee and tea are strong. My partner John and I need all the help we can get. This is one hilly course and we readily admit we never seem to put in enough miles by the end of the summer that we commit to in March. Still, who could miss such an intriguing event so close to home?

Centurion Cycling hosted three grand fondo-style rides this year in Colorado, Wisconsin and Collingwood, Ontario. When the word got out in our cycling club in Owen Sound (nearly next door) that organizers were designing a course through the beautiful Beaver Valley that managed to include every climb we had ever tortured ourselves with, we knew we had to do it. Every year we have a hill climb on the Epping Hill that nearly kills us. What would that hill be like if it was merely one of many?

As we drove to Blue Mountain and looked east, there was a hint of sun. By the time we arrived the temperature had increased to 9C+ and cyclists were everywhere. It appears that once a person hits forty-five, the lightness of the bike is proportional to the increase in age. Guys in their fifties on super-light carbon fibre frames with wild jerseys and shorts proliferated.

Speaking of shorts, what will it be? Shorts or tights? Predictions were for a high of 15C, but the race would hopefully be over in three hours, so how much warmer would it get? I erred on the side of caution and kept the tights on, with a long-sleeve wool jersey, short-sleeve jersey and lightweight vest. Add the energy gels and sliced up energy bars to my pocket, two waterbottles on the bike, and off we go to the “Serious Cyclist” corral. Like most I have chosen something in the middle: We’re not casual riders, but we would hardly call ourselves “racers.”

There is a variety of knickers, tights and shorts, but we all seem to have chosen the same upper-body layers, and everyone appears to be in a great mood, considering how early this race starts. On my right a cyclist with a giraffe on his helmet goes by. I look to my left and spy Jack Sasseville from Hardwood Hills and known best to Canadians as an Olympic commentator at Nordic skiing this winter. He’s decided to do the 100-mile ride. The man beside me is a teacher from Collingwood. We have a lovely conversation and agree that the theme song to Rocky is a bit much for 7:30 a.m. in the morning. We are old in other words.

The gun goes and just over 1,000 cyclists clip in. The first few kilometers are skitterish to say the least. The road is flat and brake fingers too itchy. I see an island coming up on my left and 20 metres later I realize the guy beside me doesn’t see it. He’s driving me right into it. At the last minute I must move so far to the left that I circle the other side of the island completely. Close call.

I am back in the pack when another familiar face shows up. It’s the legendary Eon D’Ornellas. He was already one of the fastest cyclists in Canada when I was a teen-ager riding in the 1970s, and here he is with a 100-mile number on his back. We hold hands, smile and then he is gone. I look up and see why. It time to climb.

We need to break up the group or it is only a matter of time before an accident occurs, so the climb is welcome. By the top the field has broken up and everyone seems to be riding safely. Great trains of cyclists go by me on the first series of climbs. Eventually I figure I must be at the back of the pack. Then, just after I admonish myself for not training nearly enough, I see a pair of familiar legs ahead. The last time I saw John he was pumping up his tires in the parking lot. We ride together for under a kilometer and then he speeds away into the distant with one of the trains going by.

Oh well, the scenery is spectacular, cyclists friendly, the weather perfect. I start to talk to the woman beside me. Her name is Adele and hails from Orillia. She is riding on a team but can’t find any of her teammates. We team up with four or five other cyclists and another familiar face appears…Lynne Vaughan-MacDonald from the Owen Sound club. She’s been winning Ontario time trial championship medals for years now. Not a bad person to be riding beside.

We sail by my brother’s house – where John and I had been asleep a mere three and a half hours ago. There is always a point in a hard ride when you ask yourself why you sacrificed a good night’s sleep just to suffer. But so far I am loving this ride, even if I am at the back of the pack. Well, that’s what happens I figure when you get old.

Everyone knows what’s coming once we make the right hand turn out of the Beaver Valley: a five kilometer climb up Epping Hill. A large sign reads “KOM.” Adele asks what that meant. “King of the Mountain” replies one of the guys in our group. “What happened to the Queen?” she replies.

Epping serves to separate those who trained and those who wish they had. By the top I can see the colour of Lynne’s jersey, but not much more. Others from our group start to look like ants on bikes way ahead of me. We have passed the 40km mark – yes! – halfway. When the course turns right into Ravenna, the descents work for me and I spend the rest of the ride seeing Lynne’s pink jersey but not being able to catch her. Adele, who has also dropped me, comes into focus. We are a team again. Kilometres later we see the 20km sign and make another right hand turn. “Anyone can ride 20 kilometres” I tell Adele.

But I feel a headwind and realize the two of us will have problems fighting such a wind. Ahead of us is a nice big pack of cyclists. If I can bridge the gap I will be sheltered. Without telling Adele of my plan, I get out of the saddle and sprint as hard as I can. In no time I am on the back of the group and spend the next few kilometers trying to stay on after each climb. There is another turn and not just more climbs, but climbs on tar-chip, not the smooth asphalt we’ve had until then. At the top of one of the endless hills we see the 10km sign. Before we know it we are being told to slow down for the descent down Scenic Caves Road. Why spoil all this fun with a last minute crash?

The last 500 metres takes us back the way we started. The corners are expansive and smooth-easily pedaled. The finish line arrives and there’s Lynne. By the time I circle around Adele is behind me. We congratulate and thank one another for the extra incentive to ride well. John, Lynne tells me, is warming down.

The fastest cyclist of the day was Todd Morrow of Collingwood with a blistering “chip” time of 2:30:16, followed immediately by Jeffrey Crompton, one second back, and Luka Senka, 2 seconds back. All three are from Collingwood. Toney Morelli of Stoney Creek took fourth with a time of 2:32:22, while Centurion mastermind Graham Fraser, who started out organizing triathlons and duathlons in Ontario in the 1980s, and now lives in Boulder, Colorado, was fifth in 2:34:51. Pretty impressive given he’s in the 45-49 age category.

But perhaps even more impressive was Karen Lockridge’s (40-44 age category) time as the first woman in 2:40:47-a time that put her 19th overall, and a stunning ride by Sally John, who took second overall woman in 2:42:10. Sally is fifty, a single mother and one busy woman.

As it turned out, Sally was the only woman in my age category who beat me, and I wasn’t at the back of the field. My 2:58:39 time put me 136 out of 530 cyclists. The legendary D’Ornellas also took second in his age category of 55-59 in the 100-mile event, flying around the course in 5:19:15 while Jack Sasseville was a respectable 12th place in the same age category at 5:56:42.

The music, the food, and the exceptional company of so many cyclists with so many stories to tell wrapped up a tiring but perfect day. The Centurion is here to stay.

Full results here.
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