Did I learn nothing from the first time I competed in the 100 Miles of Nowhere? Sure, I won my division last time but, once again, not even a full mile into the 100 MoN the chain falls off because I’m trying to down shift from one of the two remaining gears on my twenty-one speed mountain bike. It was just like last time. Now, I’ll be stuck peddling in one gear for the remaining 99 miles.
I think 100 Miles of Nowhere is a little like giving birth. The first time you do it you struggle through the pain and anguish. At the height of the “shear vehemence of suckage” (An appropriate depiction by Noodle) you declare that you will never, ever do this again. A year goes by, you read other reports on 100 Miles of Nowhere but you grab the previous year’s T-shirt, hug and kiss it and thank the stars that you didn’t ride Nowhere again. Then somehow, the following year, you find yourself on the Twin Six website ordering your 100 MoN kit V 5.0.
You’ve developed selective memory or you hit your head on a rock during your last trail ride. Whatever the cause or lack of sanity, when you click on that pay button, you are down-right giddy with anticipation for 100 MoN to start. When your kit arrives, you tear it open to revel in this year’s 100 MoN design. Putting on the shirt makes you begin to fantasize about how the two of you will ride a hundred of miles together. Oh, the places you won’t go!
Then that fateful day arrives, Race Day. This is the day, when you are on lap 15 of 256, riding in 16 mph sustained winds that batter you from all sides of the 0.39 mile circle loop you chose for your race course, when you begin to recall the suckage of 100 Miles of Nowhere and wonder what in the world were you thinking when you signed up.
You want to throw in the towel. You want to tuck your tail between your legs but you took one of the only five hundred slots for 100 MoN. The race sold out in two hours. People were disappointed. People that wanted to ride 100 miles in place, up hills, or in circles. You took their spot, their T-shirt. You owe it to them to finish, at least, 10 miles.
100 Miles of Nowhere is a day when you wish you could get Nowhere fast. However, you are just a recreational bicyclist, the saddle sores develop faster than the miles. Like a pregnant woman in her ninth month, you think that this will never end. Counting the laps helps until you remember that you have to peddle 205 more laps through this neighborhood.
Once it a while your mind manages to drift away as you toil on the cranks. Maybe you were distracted by a bunny hopping by. Or a robin startled you with a sudden swoop mere inches in front of your tire. You wonder where will it wonder off to? Will he get that worm? You enjoy a few minutes of bliss at being mentally in another place. But, there is payback . When your mind wakes back up in back in the 100 Miles of Nowhere race, you look at your fingers in horror. You don’t remember anything. How long were you gone? 1 lap? 2 laps? How many fingers did you even have up? Or, are you really just so miserable that you only THINK you completed more than one lap during your mental vacation. What if you’re wrong and it causes you to only bike 99.45 miles instead of 100 miles!
So now you are asking me why I would do something so hideously stupid as to ride my bike 100 Miles to go Nowhere? Because nothing makes a better story than anguish, conflict, and final triumph. Truthfully, all this pain is kind of fun. It’s the one and only time that I will included in the circle of Fatty’s closest 500 friends. Lastly, Fatty has this gift for asking people for things. You just can’t say No to Fatty.
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All in all, 100 Miles of Nowhere is very fun in a sick and twisted way. In the end, I’m going to finish my miles by commuting to work by bike. I probably won’t ride it next year but I bet I’ll forget and come back in two years or so. By the way, I won my division this year too! It was the Recreational Bicyclist Who Prefers To Pedal Only When There Is Ice Cream Involved Division!
Proof I’m not the only one: