I BONK'd for the 1st time!

Even though I've been circumventing the various roadways that surround Barrie for nigh unto a full year, that doesn't mean that I am a true cyclist. I am living the #bikelife and it is most assuredly a passion, but there's still a whole lot I have left to learn, and recently I was introduced with a big fat slap upside my head to the cycling concept of BONK'ing ... riding oneself into a state that dictates a full-on rest because the body is in full rebellion mode from the depletion of glycogen (sugar) stores in the liver and muscles.

To understand the whole situation, you have to know some details:
Firstly, we just wrapped up the whirlwind of confusion that was the sale of our home for the past 30 years.
Secondly, Ma Nature had indeed been most kind of late, offering a host of enticingly gorgeous bike-friendly weather days whose magnetic pull to the great outsides was irresistible.
Lastly, after spending much of the snow-covered Canadian months indoors spinning away on a trainer, my fitness levels fortified me with a false sense of competency, directly leading to said BONK'ing.

With sun shining brightly, I mounted my new steed ... a gravel grinding Argon18 Dark Matter ... and set out in an easterly direction on the Simcoe Rail Loop pathway, bound for my planned turn around in Victoria Harbour. I've experienced a healthy number of rides in and around Simcoe County, but until I acquired the Dark Matter, the Rail Loop was not a choice, my Ridley road bike unable to handle to demands of the Rail Loop.

The first portion of the Loop from Barrie to Orillia was as pleasant as you'd like with moderately little wind issues and only the occasional other cyclist or walker. Making my way through Orillia and out the other side, I merged onto the Uhthoff Trail on my way to Coldwater. The Loop has definitely suffered some spring time complications with a few very boggy sections that immediately notified me that I had some learning still to do when it came to grinding gravel. Despite the soggy sections, I felt good about maintaining a quality cadence and pace all the way to Coldwater, meaning a quick stop into Em's Cafe for a coffee was in order. I was a little surprised that I had traversed the 60 or so km's in just over 2 hours ... an almost 30 kph clip! Had I been even remotely intelligent I would have realized that pace was unsustainable. 

After satisfying my java jones, I set out Northwesterly from Coldwater continuing on the Rail Loop, only to find that I had neglected to charge my head unit (bike computer) the night before and it ran out of juice. Not to be out done, I fired up the Strava app on my iPhone and continued to absolutely enjoy the ride. I should have realized that this was not a good omen.

Just on the outskirts of Waubashene, I encountered my biking buddy Hardy Wind, his wife Cindy and their friend Andrew as the trio were of a similar mindset and enjoying the paved portion of the Rail Loop that runs from Waubashene to Penetang. When I shared with Hardy my plans to ride from Barrie to Victoria Harbour then southward back to Barrie, his eyes grew wide in wonder, and he offered his admiration of my intentions. That should have been the warning that I needed to re-think my plan, but my hubris got the better of me and I wasn't swayed.

Continuing to push westward following our brief visit, I arrived in Victoria Harbour, decided to have a brief respite to take on some nutrition and water. After a short-lived mini-tour of the village, thanks to having little idea of where I was heading, I located the road I needed and pointed southward. By now, the sun shone almost directly overhead, the temperature has reached its forecasted max, and the hills of Oro Medonte came into play after over 3.5 hours in the saddle. I'm not at all convinced that I might have managed the situation better had my trusty head unit been front and center of my attention rather than on my phone in my back pouch, securely hidden from my view, but it certainly didn't help. 

As the hills became more of an issue, and I came close to the bottom of my water bottle, I noticed that the punch in my legs had waned significantly, and the struggles ascending the rolling hills was taking it's toll. By the time I pigheadedly relented and pulled over on the shoulder to end my suffering with some in-ride nutrition of dried fruit, nuts and cookie, it was likely already past the point of no return because my breakfast had long been burned for fuel, likely back around Coldwater. I had to sit right down in the culvert and felt as low energy as I have ever felt previously ... it was officially my first BONK'ing. Checking my progress during the stop, it became apparent that what I had thought would be a 4 hour ride total was already past 4.5 hours and I had a fair way left to go to return home. Thankfully, the snack was having the desired effect on my blood sugar and I was soon able get back in the saddle with hopes of making the journey in decent time, but a pressing issue was the nearly completed water level of my bottle. 

In these Covid times, I am sure I was a startling presence as I rolled up to the little business and asked the young man out front of his shop if he would be so kind to refill my bottle. In is a testament to the quality of person he was that he smiled widely before remarking, "You sure look like you could use some help. One second and I'll top that up for you." A heartfelt and sincere thank you and I was off again, the cold water a welcomed respite to my parched lips.

The remainder of the journey seemed to last forever as I rolled up and down the hills of Oro making my way around the Copeland Forest, past Horseshoe Valley, and through Churchill before one last climb up the hill leading to Barrie along highway 93. Arriving at home, I was greeted by the not-so-impressed look on my wife's face as she shared her disbelief at how much of an idiot she had married. Who was I to argue with her? What I thought was a challenging 4 hour ride turned out to be a ridiculous almost 6 hours and a whopping 130 km's. 

The saying goes that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. While that has certainly been my mantra throughout my athletic career, I'm now fairly certain that this saying emanated from BONK'ing. It wasn't a lot of fun IN IT, but I felt a sense of accomplishment having SURVIVED IT.

Besides, my cramping hamstrings later that night served as reminder of my perviously unseen levels of stupidity. Oh well, chalk it up to another quality cycling experience.