J.A.M. Productions Grand Fundo 2010

The J.A.M. Productions/Jeremy Powers/Wheelworks Sports 2010 Grand Fundo is in the books. If you were looking for a quick read you're in the wrong place. Digest it in sections if you need to.

This post will also serve as a bit of a postrace (are you counting how many times I refer to this "ride" as a "race"?) recap that I usually draft in word and save on my hard drive. So hang on.
Jeremy Powers (A.K.A. JPows) is a professional Road and Cyclocross bike racer who lives in Western Massachusetts, USA. He races Road for Jelly Belly team and Cyclocross (hereafter denoted as "CX") for the Cannondale/Cyclocrossworld.com team. I first became a fan/follower after first witnessing his hilarious and fun-loving personality on post-race and other videos on . If you're unfamiliar with him and have time, mosey on down to cyclingdirt.org and search for "a day in the life" and "jeremy powers" or "JPows" and once you find the 3-video (I believe) series I believe you will be a fan too. or if you're not converted maybe we won't get along so much. ha
I was visiting JPows' website/blog this summer and saw an entry for the Grand Fundo. I thought oh he's bringing Gran Fondos to the US (note the difference between Grand Fundo and Gran Fondo). From what I know, Gran Fondos are huge rides/races in Italy where thousands of bike riders will show up to throw down/race/ride long distances. kinda like a century ride (100 mi/km rides in the US, usually to benefit some cause) only often they're sponsored by big companies over in Europe (sometimes having to do with bicycles) and not to benefit causes/nonprofits/organizations like century rides in the US. I believe Velonews (the magazine) has an interesting article about the Gran Fondo Campagnolo from Matt Pachoa's "At the Back" column in their August 2008 issue (I only own three issues of Velonews but am a fan and should subscribe to upp my bike racer credibility. or just because I enjoy reading it).
This Grand Fundo was supposed to be quite different from a Gran Fondo in that it was not a race, 'no rider will be left behind' and that it WOULD benefit a local/regional cause. J.A.M. I learned was founded by Jeremy and his friends Alec and Mukunda to "help motivated, young cyclists reach their potential both on and off the bike, all while not being limited by finances." A cause I was more than willing to support as I have often been looking up the technological treadmill of bicycles and parts and have thought 'man, I'm just not making enough money to be successful'. Which is really bullcrap as most of the equation is mental and physical strength. As my friend from UVM Will Dugan once said, it's the legs that matter. But money is definitely a big part that has and will continue to turn prospective racers/rising racers away. Start by imagining how much it would cost for clothing to ride three and a half seasons a year (outside), a good bicycle (we're not talking kmart trash), 25 dollar fees (which can range from 20 to 300 dollars) per race for 10-25 races a year, flying/driving to these races, lodging for the night(s) before/during/after the race(s), food to fuel a body that is working hard and you get the picture. Sure you could cut costs by tweaking the clothing, lodging travel and other parts but the body performs its best when comfortable. From what I've found.
So I knew I wanted to do it. The setting? Picturesque western Massachusetts (the ride started form Southampton). The distance? 70 miles (later changed to 64 with a possible shortcut to make it 61. The route? Some of JPows and his friends' favorite training roads which would not be "that difficult. From miles 12-20 the course has some steep sections. But after that it’s mostly flat and rolls downhill the rest of the way back to Southampton." Knowing I raced on dirt roads in UVM's road race weekend in 2008 (and that I race mountain bikes and cyclocross) I thought I was ready for the dirt roads. I had done a hilly extension on a group ride that I thought was about 40 miles the week before while visiting another UVM friend, Marshall, in VT the week before. Sure I'd only done a maximum of 24 miles in my two hour sloww-as-heck endurance rides previously this year, but 64 miles wouldn't be that tough would it? The weather forecast: fog in the early morning then partly cloudy with a high of 94, thunderstorms possible after 3 P.M. Winds 3-11 miles per hour. The start time: 10:00.
I got lost looking down at my Google directions printout in Northampton and had to ask directions from a Marina on Rt. 9. With their help we realized I had turned onto West St in Northampton, not the West St I needed to look for once I reached Southampton. Ooooh. Thanks guys. I rolled onto the recently cut farm field and drove carefully through about 20 fast looking roadies (road bike riders/racers), parked and started getting ready with about 50 others who were finishing their preride rituals. The vibe was a bit hectic from everyone finishing getting ready and fast people getting antsy to go ride. But it was also a good vibe because I think JPows and everyone else who planned the event didn't think so many would show up. I got changed super quick, got embarrassed at being the only one shouldering a hydration pack full of my tools and extra innertubes, shoved everyting into my jersey pockets including a third water bottle, put two bottles onto the cages on my bike, added air to my tires and we were off!
I stayed at the back of the group for a bit to warmup and I hung with the fast riders who volunteered to watch the goings-on at the back. We took a right turn after about a half mile and the main group was already a bit ahead. A guy I had been following sprinted up to bridge the gap but I didn't want to get hasty that early into the 64 mile ride. I knew people were behind me who would help show the way. A couple of the riders covering the back stopped to help someone fix an early flat tire. There was still one girl behind me who I think I saw race for Army when I was in college because I remembered a dark-haired girl racing for them who always had this girl's long braid and this girl had a camo-painted bike. I started up the first small hill and she was a bit behind me. Maybe she's taking it easier than I am. I roll down the first hill and look back, she's not there. Oh well I'm sure I'll catch the rear part of the group or see them soon. I ride another four minutes, enjoying the semi-rural area. Still no sight of anyone ahead or behind. I ride two more minutes. Now this is making me wonder. Am I really in no-mans-land already? What about "no rider gets left behind?" If I'm so far off the back of the main group how come I haven't seen the SRAM wheel car or the support truck at the absolute back of the group? Did I take a wrong turn? I ask a guy on the side of the road who had been called out to help someone's car if he'd seen a huge group of bikers go by. No he didn't but sorry, he wasn't really paying attention. He would have seen them or heard them if the group had gone by. Maybe he had been called out after the group went by and took a different route to the house he was at? Or maybe the group made a turn and I missed a sign? The route was supposed to be signed with "Grand Fondo" stencils and flags. I took that to mean stand-up signs. I hadn't seen any since we left the farm field and a sign pointed us left of the barn. I guess I should double back and if this is the correct route I'll see people coming up behind me.
Five minutes doubling back and no sign of any riders or support cars. This is starting to worry me. I get back to the road we started on and see two bike riders going by beyond where the guy I was following had signed to make a right turn. I ride out to them and they're a father and son not in the Grand Fundo, just out for a ride. Dad says he has a map and he can show me where I am. That doesn't help because I live nowhere near here and I didn't print the race route to bring with me. A Ford pickup truck stops near us and a girl asks us if we're trying to catch back up to the group. I say yes, I AM. She says they're a ways ahead on the route but I can catch up if I continue on the road past the first turn, make a right at the Opa Opa, then make a right at High street near the cemetery. Thanks!
Take a right and start riding fast but efficiently. I can't push too hard or let my core/head/shoulders wobble if I want to ride 60 more miles after an effort to catch the group. Oh hey there's the Opa Opa steakhouse and brewery let's go right! hey there's the cemetery and High street, another right! Okay this is the end of High Street, am I supposed to wait for the group to pass me or did they already go by? I wait a minute then take a left down to an intersection with a numbered state route. This can't be right the route was supposed to be on roads with next to no traffic. I go the other way to what I would have ridden had I gone right at the end of High St. I pass a farmer out in his freshly cut hayfield, checking out how his tractor is running. Maybe he saw the group and knows which way they passed. I turn around and ask him. He says yes, they passed going up the direction I was going but they did so about a half an hour ago. Huge group, lots of riders. Ok so I'm going the right way. Two minutes later and I see Fomer Rd. going to the right. OH the lady in the ford truck said they would take Fomer Rd! Now I'm on the right track. Fomer Rd turns into a dirt road. JPows said before we left that a lot of the roads had been recently filled with gravel and graded. So much is true for this one. The sides of the road are loose sandy gravel and the center is pretty well packed down. Let's stay to the center. I see dab marks ( go here and look up dab, this doesn't directly translate) from when some riders lost their balance in the loose stuff and left tiny gouge marks in the soft sandy road. I pass a HUGE cement runoff chute with a fence near it that says do not tresspass, town property etc etc (turns out we rode past the Tighe Carmody Reservoir). I crest a hill on the dirt road and there's a right fork branching off. The road bike tire depressions keep going straight, I go that way. I reach the end of the dirt road and Eureka! there's a sign pointing right. I go up a paved hill with two young girls standing behind a card table in their front yard. They say "free water" as I ride up towards them. I've already been gone for a while, might as well fill up a bottle. They top off my least full bottle with fresh cold, water and I see a donation box for something which escapes me now. Sorry girls, I only have a $20 note in my bag and its for roadside emergencies. Maybe I'm a coldhearted bastard for not making a donation. Brokeness is relative. At the time I felt pretty broke. There was a guy (their dad?) jammin on his electric guitar near the garage and a bunch of stuff on the driveway. A combo garage sale/water stop? I don't think this was provided by the race organizers, the Ice Cream Truck rest stop isn't until mile 32...
I crest the hill and see a yellow and blue jersey in the distance after the coming downhill! Have I found two other Grand Fundo sufferers as well? I takes me another uphill/downhill combo to catch them but yes, these are two guys from the Boston Road Club (a huge road racing club for the greater Boston area) and started after the main group left due to their late arrival. I decide to hang with them for a while. Both of them easily have 8 years on me, one possibly 15. The Grand Fundo, humanity's great equalizer. I ride with them as the oldest guy in the yellow jersey is cussin every other pedal stroke because, guess what? we've hit ANOTHER steep/long hill. We fight through to what 500 feet back appears to be the end of the hill, but NO the pavement keeps streaking to the right and up. The hill turns to DIRT. Does God have no mercy? We get off and walk the dirt end to the hill. We finally get to the top of the dirt section and a paved road intersects our road with another dirt road going up the hill. We better see a "Fundo" arrow pointing to the paved road. It is, we go right. We start to talk to each other, share little bits of how we got there. The younger guy (they were both named Dave) says he's from Fall River, MA and they definitely DON'T have hills like this were he's from. I'm thinking that if there are hills like this near Nashua, NH I haven't found them yet.
The ride goes on. I realize my trip odometer on my bike computer is 2.1 ish miles higher than the younger of my two companions because of my little detour in the first part of the race. oops did I say race? I meant ride. We hit rolling hills and the older guy starts spewing profanities again. the younger guy is laughing so much he's almost unable to keep the pace to crest the hills. I chuckle a little bit, I'm not used to someone swearing that much. But I can see the reason he is, we thought we were entering a leisurely ride where people wouldn't ride fast and the hills were only moderate. Maybe moderate to a pro who raced the Tour of California this year. Now looking back at the elevation profile, I remember the part that says the ride aggregates a total of about 3,000 feet of climbing. We hit another dirt road and near the top of a little rise in the road a truck comes up behind us and we veer to the side. The truck isn't passing us and the younger of my companions says 'jeez pass us already'. The older guy falls back and the truck does too. turns out it was the support truck following the absolute last riders of the ride. Those absolute last riders? The support guy thinks its us, but he says he cut off a big chunk off of the first part of the route. I can't help but think, isn't that risking leaving others behind in a race where they "mean no rider gets left behind"?
We get copious amounts of Gatorade from the support truck and the guys get some Jelly Belly Sport Beans. I don't take any as I still have maybe 5 energy gels and 1 pack of energy chews in my jersey pockets. Ready to ascend Everest, I am. All of it is Honey Stinger. True to the team sponsors to the grave. Except I took some Gatorade. Honey Stinger doesn't make a drink mix so that's technically not being untrue. We soldier on, going down a hill on the dirt road to an intersection. Guess what, its not signed! The support truck had been creeping along behind us since we took on Gatorade. We consult with the driver. Right he says. Just as we start the turn we all see a cardboard sign sticking out of the overgrown grass on the other side of the road we are intersecting. It says to go right. At least there's some consensus. We come up to a left turn and the support truck had been idling behind us the whole time. A(n aggravated?) driver in their yellow Hummer H2 accelerates out of nowhere to pass us (V8 roaring at us) just as we try to navigate the left turn. WOW. I guess death doesn't want us yet.
We poke along on a mostly flat road. Hey this is easy now. How many miles? only 30!? The older guy is rip-sh*&. I'm just trying to stay in a mentally tough state to finish the ride. We climb a few hills and Eureka! the Ice Cream Truck awaits our needs.
We ride up to the Ice Cream Truck, the support pickup truck parking behind it. There are three very cute girls that look my age (I find that as I get into my 20s I'm becoming a poorer judge of the age of young women I see, or so I think). The older guy says holy crap, is this the Jeremy Powers harem? We all laugh and walk up to the window. The girls greet us with smiles. It doesn't matter that were Dead effin Last (DFL). The Ice Cream Truck rest stop does not discriminate. They all have thin (almost see-thru) tanktops on with the same "Fundo" and arrow stencils that denote where the route goes in neon orange on the roads. But their white tanktops have the stencil gaps filled in in black. One of them has a black bra on under the tanktop. The other a white sports bra. The third evidently doesn't want us to know her identity as she doesn't take off her Ray-Ban Wayfarer's the whole time we're there (side note: NOW I know that that line from 'Girls of Summer' about "you got those wayfarers on baby" means! I'm slow on the uptake of pop culture). And we were there a while. The older Dave orders a Choco-Taco and settles for a chocolate chip ice cream sandwich. I guess they ran out of Choco-Tacos. I get what they say is an "Italian Ice" and decide on cherry. and a banana. I'm a smart athlete when it comes to nutrition. Always keeping an eye on the nutrient intake. the younger dave gets something I forget and we all sit in the shade on the side of the road. The older guy sitting in the field edge, amongst the tall grass. the younger of my compadres says he'll have lyme disease by tomorrow, he is told to shut the f&$* up. We're getting testy and its only halfway through. In a rare rise of profanity in my mind I'm thinking this cup of high fructose corn syrup, red coloring and cherry pieces I've eaten half of is definitly not f&$*in Italian Ice. Yuck. but I need to keep my muscle glycogen up. We go back to the Ice Cream Truck and get some water, I finish a small bag of lowfat Wise potato chips one of the girls started. We ride another 1/4 mile (UPHILL, why did they put the rest stop in the middle of a hill and not at the top of the hill?) and take a right onto a shortcut that is supposed to cut off a couple miles.
We hit another relatively flat dirt road section after we rejoin with the main route and I start thinking I'm racing Paris-Roubaix. Or reliving the 3rd stage of the Tour de France, because Paris-Roubaix is a spring classic and I always think of mud when I think of Paris-Roubaix. If someone says always you know they're wrong. We hit another paved section and some other hills start slowing us down. They're not that big but we're tired after riding 32+miles in this heat. We come up to a 4-way intersection and the oldest of my riding buddies says we better not be going straight to the only effin dirt road at this intersection. Guess what? the neon "Fundo" arrow is pointing straight to it and there is another one once the dirt road starts. We wait for a big pickup truck to exit the road. The driver and passenger say they saw a big group of bikers go down the road, but they're about a half hour behind. How long till the next paved section? They look at each other and say about another two or three miles. I say to hell with it, lets truck it. We throw our bikes into the back of the support truck. The two daves get into the cab and I climb into the bed with the bikes. An only slightly bumpy and carefully-driven couple of miles ensues. Dirt road ends, truck stops. The driver asks if we want to ride it or if we want him to drive us back. he says if we're sick of riding he has no problem driving us back (we later learned the driver of the support truck was a friend of Jeremy's from Vermont and he probably was itching to start his long drive back home but we were holding him up). I reluctantly say I'd just as well get driven back to the start/finish of the loop. The older Dave says the hell with it we might as well finish. The route description turns true in the last 10-15 miles as the course rolls downhill back into town. Some highlights: I let my brakes mostly go and got ahead on most downhills/dirt road sections. Just trying to limit our losses on the day. A woman at another garage sale yells "wrong way" as we make a right turn at an intersection when we should have gone straight. We finally see a cardboard sign peeking up from above the guard rail that points straight. We ride through downtown Southampton and it looks nice. people dressed well, going out early for a nice dinner on the town on a Saturday night. We 3 riders are just finishing a 60 mile ride from hell. A Toyota Mr2 Spyder (one of the last sporty cars Toyota ever made, axed around the same time as the Celica, maybe before. NO, the stupid Corolla "S" edition does NOT count as sporty!) passes us on a rather well-traveled road with little shoulder near the end of the route and the driver matter-of-factly flips the bird at us when he's well ahead of us.
We realize that we're at the end of the route when we're back on the road we drove to arrive at the start/finish and parking field and people are beeping at us and saying stuff like "Now THAT'S a Grand Fundo!" We speed up and our group splits into three individuals riding to save face and not be the absolute last finisher. There's a guy in a Tuxedo T-shirt, flashy blue Rudy Project sunglasses, maybe boxer shorts and sneakers that says "WOW you guys DEFINITELY didn't take a shortcut." Him and Jeremy do the raffle where cool stuff is given away like bike clothing, tools and a floor pump from Pedros, a helmet, etc. I'm too tired to say hey guys you didn't give us last place finishers a chance to put in for the raffle. The pig that was over the spit when we started (5 hours 8 minutes ago for me) has been cut up and is now on a table as pork pieces and ribs covered with WAY too many hot pepper flakes for my taste. I eat what I can. I have a lot of the pasta salad and some slaw. They have plenty of Watermelon, OOOOOH YEaaaaah! The two Daves and I are in non-spandex clothing now and soaking in the beautiful views of farm fields and Mt. Tom. The older Dave starts telling stories that the younger one says take two hours to tell and don't have any point, exciting ending or punch line. I sit around and look at everyone who completed the ride ahead of us and who is done their food. Beer is available from High & Mighty Brewery and I don't dare have a full glass for fear of falling asleep on the 2 hr 20 minute drive home. Older dave gets some and all they have left is a chocolate brew (chocolate stout?) and he says its ok. he lets me have a sip and its AWESOME. in my opinion. as in I would say that chocolate beer was my JAM! haha anyway. he lets me finish the 1/3 full cup. We part ways and I drive home feeling tired but glad to have finished it. I shake JPows hand as I leave and thank him for putting on the event. He thanks me for coming and seems like a genuine nice guy who enjoys life. Not the in-depth conversation I dreamed about having with a guy who I look up to as far as athletic achievement and life outlook, but you take what you can get. A little rain falls on the bike which is on the roof while I drive home and I get home fine. A little detour through downtown Fitchburg when I end up on route 31 instead of 2A but I found 2A once I got through town. At least I didn't end up going the wrong way on a one way street in downtown Fitchburg when I try to double back to a missed turn like when I was en route to the ride.
Was it tough? Oh momma yes. Did I learn more about where I am mentally, spiritually and physically? yes. Did I meet some cool people? yes. Did I stretch my limits on the bike? yes. was I cursing the poor planning of certain parts of the ride and how badly turns were marked? yes. Did I arrive so late that I probably missed some important info about how to navigate the course and what/where it was marked? yes. Did all the bads get outweighed by goods and fond memories the next day? yes.
Sounds like a good time.