A few weeks ago a good friend of mine and I were talking and he mentioned something that piqued my interest. A few hours drive away a 200 mile bike ride was talking place stretching from the Canadian border to the Massachusetts border all following along Vermont’s route 100. As such the ride is called the 200-on-100. It sounded like a crazy adventure and definitely seemed like would be a challenge to say the least.
Three weeks later I found myself heading to the Green Mountain State to manifest my new vision: to complete the ride.
Although the original friend who suggested in wasn’t able to make it, he connected me with his buddy, Lance, whom I’d met before briefly so that we’d be able to complete it together.
Logistically it was a bit of a puzzle to figure the planning for it since the ride has no formal registration, transportation, and there’s really not much infrastructure at the start or finish of the race (including cell service).
Nevertheless Lance and I devised a plan to complete the journey. On the day before the race, we’d meet together in separate cars at the Mass border, I’d drop my car off, we’d drive together up to his place in central Vermont, and his girlfriend Amy would drive us to an inn near the start of the ride the night before. Then the next morning of the ride at the crack of dawn we’d do a 6 mile bike ride to the canadian border, bike 200 miles south back to my car, then drive back to his place in central Vermont. Simple right?
Not quite, but we made it work. We talked to a local bartender at the finish in Readsboro VT and she kindly told us of a good spot we could park overnight. We then started the journey backwards by car along VT route 100. As we drove and chatted, we admired the beautiful landscape, but at the same time I was slightly overwhelmed by the length of it. It was a long drive let alone biking the whole thing!
After several hours in the car, we made it up to Lance’s home in Moretown, VT his girlfriend graciously volunteered to drive us to the almost start of the race the night before in Jay, VT, just 6 miles from the canadian border. The hotel we stayed at was more of a ski lodge than anything else. Definitely gave the nice Vermont cozy lodge vibe. Seemed like a nice place to enjoy a warm drink by the fireplace, however it was summer time and warm so sort of a strange combination of vibes.
The next morning we took off to get to the start. It was just a 20 minute ride or so starting around 4:30am when we got to see the sunrise. We joked that the 200 miles was not enough so wanted to tack on a few warm up bonus miles.
There was a brief opening ceremony and roughly 50 riders showed up to tackle the feat. There were some cycling teams with matching kit and most people seemed to have a support vehicle with them but most people were friendly and spirits were high.
Lance and I actually led the pack for the first few miles or so until some riders creeped up behind us and ended up slowly passing by. Of course to optimize our long journey we started a paceline. Some of the riders definitely seemed like they were probably overdoing it since it was only the start of a super long journey, however we ended up getting in a great groove and the first 70 or so miles flew by as we mostly drafted behind some strong rider.
Lance’s girlfriend graciously met us at mile 70 with the best mushroom/cheddar grilled sandwich I think I’ve ever had. Along with an almost croissant, I was absolutely ready for a meal to replenish what I’d lost in the first few hours.
That’s us at our rest stop at mile 70. After getting the rejuvenation we continued onward with the two of us. Lance and I were trading off pulls, until we started getting to some climbs where I let Lance pull me as he is the better climber and overall better endurance athlete than I. Eventually Lance was doing the majority of the pulling even on flats as he seemed to be in better shape.
Our first major climb of the day was as we approached Killington where Lance definitely pulled away and I fought on my own taking on the roughly 10-15% grades. At this point we were just over the halfway mark and temperatures approached 90 degrees with full sunshine.
The climb was vigorous and I was definitely pleased as we reach our second rest stop at about 110/120mi into the trip atop our climb where we refueled at a gas station. We both chugged down a couple cold carton of coconut water and started hitting the energy sources with some bars and cookies.
The descent down Killington mountain was not as pleasant as I would have hoped. Although we were descending it was still very hot and the wind was very strong on the way down where you had to grasp the handlebars carefully to avoid losing control.
We continued onward and as we did so my calves and quads I believe began to cramp on the climbs. My body was clearly telling itself it was being overworked. Lance tried helping me out supply some salt pills to help ease the cramping. I believe perhaps the pills helped but did still experience a bit of cramping. The one solution I found was just to ease off the gas a bit. So on flats I was definitely able to still hang with Lance by sucking his wheel but on climbs I let him surpass me in order for me to avoid burning out. I felt a bit unappreciative of my friends effort by not doing my share of pulling the load, however we both needed to get to the finish especially since my car was there and I would be driving us both back to his house. So I sort of took a backseat roll for some of the workload, did what I could, but certainly eased up on pushing it through the climbs and took a more comfortable pace for myself especially as the gradients became challenging.
We approach our third rest stop of the day in Ludlow, VT at about mile 130/140 where Lance and I went straight into to the refrigerator to cool off and chugged down a gatorade or two.
After eating some snack and meandering through the store I came across a map of Vermont with our location pinned via a thumbtack.
It was super encouraging to see that distance-wise were were almost there. As for distance we only had about 30-40% of the ride left and it was only about 1 or 2 pm. So we felt like we were in good shape! In the back of my mind I knew that these final miles would be the most treacherous but I kind of shielded my conscious from the cold hard truth.
Anyways we began chugging along again and hit our second major climb of the day. This one was more treacherous than Killington. In fact the mountain itself is called Mount Terrible. Lance did it quicker but believe the climb must have took me 30-60 minutes and seemed like it would never end with some grueling gradients at nearly 13%.
At the top I was pleased to be greeted not just by lance but a support vehicle for one of the other two riders who were tag-teaming the double century and trading off riding/driving the route. They were kind enough to refill our waters which was super helpful.
The descent down Mount Terrible wasn’t bad and it actually led us into some very pleasant riding near Mt snow. We finally had some mostly flat sections and the three of us (Lance, the tag teaming rider, and I) made some good swift progress together mostly thanks to Lance being an animal and pulling us through with seemingly endless endurance.
At about 1K ft we made our way to a country store in Jamaica, VT. I believe if it weren’t for me Lance and the other dude would have kept pushing on, but I insisted that I needed to fill up water and in all honestly just wanted another break as well.
Kindly enough both stopped to accommodate my request at the store where we came across a group of three other riders. They were in their 30s + 40s and all looked like very strong cyclists. In fact we had seen them in the opening miles of the race and I think some of them were pulling briefly, although I don’t think we had crossed paths since over 100 miles back.
Fighting through the same endeavor, we had something in common so I figured I’d be friendly and asked one of the guys how he was doing. “How are you doing?”, I asked him.
“I’m a bit saddle sore but other than that not too bad”, he said.
Then to my surprise he said, “It’s definitely harder going southbound rather than northbound.”
At this point I’m confused. The ride going from Canada to Massachusetts, where is the northbound in that? The entire thing is southbound. So I asked, “What do you mean by northbound? This ride is only southbound”.
“Yesterday we parked at the Massachusetts border and rode up to the start of the ride where we spend the night and today we’re going back down. It’s definitely harder going southbound since you have to do all the climbing in the end”.
My mind was blown. Here I was partaking in probably the hardest physical feat of my life. Something that most people would say is absolutely ridiculous. And here are some guys that are older than us, doing back to back double centuries. They were doing this absolutely massive ride twice, with only a nights rest in between.
Anyways the guys were very nice and encouraging. After chatting with one of the dudes, Ralph, he had mentioned than all three of them were “washed up” competitive cyclists. I don’t believe any of them were pro but I have a feeling that they were just a step below that. He’d mentioned that some of the other guys were often winners in their bike racing scene.
Together the five us descended quickly to the bottom of the next upcoming monster climb. I started pacelining with the three guys and as we passed Lance and the other dude, I told them to hop on to optimize the draft.
Lance was super appreciative especially since he’d been pulling for so long previously and now could get some “active rest” time.
As we descended together as a group, the last major climb was just about to come upon us. This was probably around 5pm or so and luckily the sun was hiding behind some clouds that relieved us from baking under a still potent sun. This being one of longest days of the year, a even at 5pm the sun can be quite strong. The faster climbers went ahead as Ralph and I chatted a bit about life and made our way up at a slightly slower pace than the others. He mentioned to me that their crew was from Connecticut and we talked about sports fans being a bit confused in that region. He said the most messed up part is that some Connecticut residents just choose a random team from a totally different part of the country to root for like the Cowboys since they have a lack of sports culture identity. I told him at least they have UConn.
Back to the bike we continued making way up, Ralph and I ended up joining with another rider in his trio. As much as I wanted to keep chatting, the pace started getting a bit challenging for me especially after about 180 miles of bike riding and 10k ft of climbing. Despite the amount of climbing we’d already done, this climb was the largest of the day, totally around a 2k foot gain.
Despite being the longest climb, the elevation was quite gradual as the 2k feet was spread over about 10-12 miles. As we started getting towards the later half of the climb the grade definitely took it up a notch. I got dropped by the other dudes but continued comfortably at my pace.
This climb seemed to go on forever, but I couldn’t complain and was fueled + hydrated up so although I was fatigued I still felt comfortable enough to somewhat enjoy the climb.
After getting to the top I was pleased by the other guys convened at the top with “our” support vehicle willing to shed me some water. It was nice to have the other dudes cheer me on as I was the final one of the 6 riders. As I got to the top I joked, “That’s it already? I was just starting to enjoy myself.”
All the dudes at the top seemed to be relaxing and enjoying a bit of a break and I appreciated them waiting for me, however as soon as I arrived it was go time so not much of a break for me. I didn’t mind at all, since the descent is a good time to actively recover anyways.
With steep grades toward the start of the descent, we naturally spaced out a bit, but as the road started to flatten out, we formed a pretty ferocious paceline. The guy who I was riding with, Ralph, was leading the pack and seemed to be putting down the hammer. We must have been averaging around 30mph for around 20 minutes or so as it was slightly descending for a while.
All the sudden I struck a huge pothole as I was drafting the guy in front of me. Worse than that, I heard some awful noises behind me and was almost sure at least one man behind me had crashed. By the grace of God, when I looked back all I saw were some water bottles scattered on the road as well as other riders slowing down.
What happened was that there was a gnarly pothole that was long and deep, the worst kind of pothole for folks who are riding quickly on a paceline. The guy in front apologized for not calling it out as he must have passed it by a slim margin. In retrospect I was probably at fault as well since I must have been riding not perfectly aligned with the man in front of me since he didn’t hit the pothole.
I was thankful that only my chain had popped off, but both Lance’s wheels had flatted and I believe his back wheel got slightly warped. Despite the inconveniences we had to deal with, we were all super happy that nobody was hurt and spent about 10-15 minutes repairing the flats and gathering our fallen water bottles.
I think at this point Lance and I and possibly some of the other riders were just a bit shaken up, knowing how there was such a slim margin where things could have been much worse especially given our high speeds and sharing the roads with motor vehicles. Given that, we let the other riders continue onwards with their challenging pace and continued with just the two of us, prioritizing safety more than anything else. I was quick to call out any holes in the road during my pulls to ensure this wouldn’t happen again.
Lance and I reached another quick rest stop about 10 miles from the finish were we refueled and looked forward to finishing the ride.
Unfortunately those last 10 miles were still pretty challenging and must have had around 1k feet of additional climbing especially since we missed a shortcut that was part of the official route that saves a bunch of climbing.
As we neared Readsboro,VT where my car was parked, I told lance that I was just going to finish the ride in the town rather than at the actual MA/VT border. In my eyes, I had completed the double century which was my main objective. Lance on the other hand very much wanted to complete the entire journey to the border so we made a plan that I would drive to the car, pack my bike, and then drive the final 3-5 miles and meet him at the border.
The last few miles of my ride were super pretty, and that last descent down the hill were fantastic. The point where I recognized where we were and saw my car waiting nicely for me was a huge relief and I was thankful to have completed the journey safely.
I packed up my bike, changed into some dry clothes, and drove off to the border at about 6 or 7pm. What I thought we be a quick finish, turned out to be a wild goose chase.
As it turns out, there is no clear marker for the MA/VT border and I believe since we were on the earlier side, there wasn’t really a huge crowd that indicated the finish. Given such, I had over driven the route, realized it, then drove back to the border. To my surprise, Lance was not at the border. Continuing the goose chase, I tried thinking about what must have happened to him. I drove around to some nearby spots were maybe he had mistaken the finish for, but he was nowhere to be found.
I continued my search for the MIA riding partner and was literally asking every person I saw if they saw a guy with aero-bars zipping by along the road. After maybe the 6th or 7th person, I came across an old lady on a porch and asked her the same question.
“Excuse me ma’am, did you happen to see a guy on a bike ridding by here?”, I asked.
“Yes”, she answered. “And you should tell him to slow down it’s a 25mph speed limit zone here!”
Given Lance’s I immediately knew she was referring to him. I continued driving for about 20 minutes wondering if I’d ever find lance. Given that the road was mostly downhill, I knew Lance could have probably covered a lot of ground and could possibly be traveling around the same as me.
After about 20 minutes I saw a pickup truck pass me in the opposite direction and I got to a crossroads. I was just started to lose hope when the pickup truck turned back around and I saw Lance smiling in the passenger seat.
Given the confusion of the finish line, Lance had drastically out-biked the MA/VT border. Given that he had already biked hundreds of miles and was in a grove hammering down hill, I think he was just psychologically reluctant to realize that he would have to turn back around and go back up. Eventually he realized his mistake and luckily came across a nice dude to give him a lift back to the border when he recognized my car in the search and rescue mission and had the driver turn around to get back to me.
Anyways, we thanked the driver, put both our bikes in the car, made our back to the border, jumped in the river to cool off, and celebrated with a nice dinner in Readsboro. As we made our way back from dinner to central VT at Lance’s place we saw the straggling riders coming back along the route in the pitch black with bike lights.
At this moment, I felt super grateful to have a strong riding partner to help pull me and despite the goose chase at the end, still have enough time to get back to central VT before midnight. Moral of the story is that you can accomplish much more as a team than you could on your own.
Also pancakes the morning after a big ride are the best.