Events: Bicycling Magazine’s Fall Classic 2019

(2019) Bicycling Magazine’s website called the Fall Classic a ‘race’ but, if it was, I did not treat it as such. On account of the fifty-mile ride starting at 9 am, I rode out thirty minutes early. I had somewhere to be later in the day that necessitated leaving before the ride proper. By my lonesome I attacked the course. Maybe I did treat it as a race. In retrospect it was a fifty-mile time trial.

Rolling off the line in front of the Valley Preferred Cycling Center velodrome at 8:30 am – thirty minutes later than desired – I found myself alone in an area anticipating nearly 900 registrants among four distances. With swirling gray skies escorting a storm front out to make way for mid-morning sun, riders departed from the Trexlertown velodrome to tackle 10, 25, 50, or 90-mile rides. The early fall Sunday could not have been better conditions.

Out on course I repeated my expected return time in an attempt to stay focused. Stragglers from the 90-mile group who commenced their day at 8:00 am became the carrot to focus forward. The possible reason for departure times presented itself at around mile five when, alone, I approached a set of train tracks and saw one of the longest cargo trains ripping a horizon in the foggy valley scenery. As luck would have it the last car scooted through the intersection moments before I was to stop and conveniently I carried on.

Cyclists from more than a dozen states made up the registration manifest. Naturally riders from Pennsylvania attended the home event, but cyclists from New York, New Jersey, Connecticut, Ohio, Rhode Island, Massachusetts, Maine, Vermont, Delaware, and even Colorado, Oregon, California, and Washington also started the Fall Classic. At least one registrant came from the District of Columbia. There was one Canadian rider from Ontario. 

Cows to the left, the only covered bridge crossed to the right, and a clear road down the middle for the 2019 Bicycling Magazine Fall Classic.

Flagger Force marshaled the nearly one thousand cyclists at every major intersection and even a handful of secondary intersections. Highly visible were the moto supports, marshals on motorcycles looking for riders in need of assistance. Despite being between the 90-mile group and the front of the 50-mile group, we were close to service vehicles. We may or may not have motopaced off them (perhaps that explains our official result) to bump the average pace. We had somewhere to be immediately after the event.

To help with rider nutrition there were several rest stops. Those who have read our content before know why I was elated to see a sleeve of [Fig] Newton cookies. I helped myself to a few, courtesy of the extremely polite volunteer at the New Life Bible Fellowship Church Rest Stop at mile thirty. I swiped a Honey Stinger vanilla waffle (Honey Stingers are based in the Lehigh Valley), refilled my bottle, and scurried back out on course. Mathematically I was cutting it close to my required finish time. 

It was then a small obstacle became larger. For the first half of the course, the southeastern progression felt easy, almost inspiring progress. A headwind on the return leg was regarded as something to worry about later. Now was later. Crossing Mennonite cornfields – recently harvested fields, too – made for a slower trip home. More ninety-mile riders were picked off. The only experience to occupy our mind from the headwind was a sign with cyclists dismounting near it. The sign read: “Doberman puppies” and, sure enough, there was an enclosure on the front lawn. Cyclists were smiling as they watched puppies; trembling with excitement, whip each other with their tails. I considered calling the team car to say there was a surprise in the back pocket. Would a puppy stay in a cycling jersey pocket?

For the final few miles I was waiting for the leaders of the fifty-mile course to overrun my effort. I would have welcomed the company. For the final ten miles I exercised relentless waving to the 25- and ten-mile riders. If the leaders came upon me I would latch on and ride the wave back to the velodrome. It never happened, though. Each intersection saw confused marshals weighing whether to stop traffic for one rider or let me sort it out. It was a little bit of both. I didn’t expect anything, honestly.

The parting view after we looped the T’town velodrome and then crossed the bridge over the track.

The last few turns were done quietly as well, including the next-to-last turn into the finishing area. I wound up behind the concession stand, thinking the route was the same as years’ prior only to find a boarded up access area to the velodrome. A man chuckled as he told me the real direction. I had to go back, cross the line, then go through the concourse to access the track. Nobody noticed as I crossed the line and I thought how funny it would be if the event did not record my effort. The track was circled less than once before being funneled into the warm-up area to dismount and cyclocross it up and over the bridge. 

Having concluded I would be late to my next engagement, I inhaled the complimentary lunch and beer. I was one of about five other people in the vast complex. No cheering, no crowds, just a picnic table, a burger, the guy that chuckled at me at the next table with his infant child, and me. I sent off a text message to let those who would have been present to cheer me on know I was off the course. With an odd feeling of having nothing keeping me at the finish area, I mounted the bike and rode the short distance to the car. Getting to the event early has its perks. The bike and gear were broken down and within five minutes I found myself outside of the event radius with no hint of its presence. 

I made it to my engagement later than expected but that was ok. It felt great to have maintained focus to have attacked the course, as I would have years ago. Not all revealed good tidings, as the next day I was texted asking why I had been recorded as a DNF. I responded that perhaps I was caught drafting the neutral service car like Niels Eekhoff was accused of doing in the U-23 Cycling World Championship. I also joked that I have been awarded more than one DNF in this event despite having crossed the line each time. 

With the Bicycling Magazine Fall Classic back on the calendar, it is something to look forward to. There are distances for each style of riding from the long distance rider to hobbyist. With the cycling community around Trexlertown, the traffic and roads are aware of sharing the road with cyclists. Feel free to come out next year, and, of all things, maybe be prepared to carry a puppy home.