The Forecast Calls For . . .

I always wanted to be a weatherman when I was little. I used to watch Harry Volkman on Chicago's Channel 2 News religiously. I was fascinated by the weather then and now. Oh man, am I ready for my 60’s? Weather Channel junkie, here I come. Anyhoo, I kind of pride myself on being able to read radar and weather maps. This is especially important as a bicycle commuter...and, anyone who lives in Vermont knows how challenging the weather has been this summer for outdoor activities. We’ve has a lot of rain: 5 1/4 inches in June and over 4 inches in July. There have been some lousy rainy days, but most of the precipitation has fallen via the afternoon, pop-up thunderstorms. So for cyclists, it’s been hard to find time to ride…especially the 9-5ers. Being a teacher, with 8 weeks off in the summer, and even with all the rain, I still have had the opportunity to ride often…as long as I can accurately use my weather predicting skills properly.

July 7th, after a bout of rain-rain-rain in late June, and some ‘little’ rides in between, I was itching for something more challenging. I hadn’t climbed the App Gap in a while. It was a cool day and my ‘expert’ interpretation of the future radar for the day seemed to give me a window to ride until around 2. The ride is 40-50 miles, depending on which route I decided to ride, and about 3400 feet of climbing. I figured no more than 3 1/2 hours. I left at 10…I should have plenty of time.

(click here for map)

Perfect temperature for riding, a little drizzle, but the clouds to the west didn’t look any more threatening than just drizzle. I pushed on. I got a good dose of light rain near the end of Main Road, thought about turning back, but again after looking west, made the decision to climb.

About halfway up the climb, I heard a “hiss-hiss” sound as I stood up on the pedals. I looked down at my rear tire, thinking flat, but didn’t see the tire losing air. I rode on. Near the top, at the REALLY steep section, the rear tire now was getting squishy and it obviously had lost some air. I decided to “hump” it up to the rest of the climb and change the tube at the top. In the parking area at the top, there was only one other person, a woman who had driven up and was pausing for a smoke. She mentioned something like, “it’ll be easier going down,” then drove off.

I pulled off my wheel and tire and was getting ready to install the new tube when I looked down the valley and noticed a wall of rain heading my way…a major wall of rain. I had read the radar wrong.

(click here for the radar loop for July 7th)

Well, anyone who has ever climbed “the Gap” knows that there is no to hide…the only structure is a microwave tower. I grabbed my stuff and hightailed it over to the tower to see if there was anywhere I could find to get out or the rain. The door to the tower had a 4-foot square protective overhang…I took shelter there.

Just as I got underneath, the rain rolled in, increasing it’s intensity every minute or so. I decided to work on the wheel while I waited out the storm. The rain came down harder and the wind picked up as well. I was semi-protected now…and as I was seating the last bit of tire onto the rim, I noticed that the tire was trashed…the outer casing had split and was peeling back. Perhaps it was rideable, but not safe, especially down the Gap road. It was now absolutely pouring…then lighting…with instantaneous thunder. The storm was right on top of the mountain, and there I was, under the tallest structure around.

Now I started to worry. What if lighting strikes this tower? Is it grounded? Grounded where? Inside, or outside of the building? Am I going to be toast? More rain, more wind, darker skies, more lightning and thunder…more freakin’ out. I was trying to figure out a way to get out from under the tower. A few cars passed, but it was raining so hard and I was hidden...there was no way they could hear or see me…and I wasn’t about to go out there. I put down the wheel and crouched by my bike, trying to control my breath. I knew that this was a fast moving storm and it would be over soon… I just had to wait it out.

The rain finally slowed down. I walked to the parking area and began to think of whom to call to help me out. Cell coverage was sketchy, but I got through to my buddy Rich. I explained my situation and then lost reception. A couple of cars came up the road and the passengers got out. One guy asked me if I was all right and I told him, “kind of,” and hoped that Rich had initiated the rescue plan. It started raining again, I was cold and starting to shiver, so I headed toward the tower.

I still wasn’t getting cell reception…but I could hear my voicemail -a message from Rich saying he couldn’t come get me and that we needed to make a plan and to call him back. I got through to Rich again and he said he was going to call another friend, Amiee, who lives nearby to see if she could scoop me. I had her number so I told him I’d call and call him back. Again I lost coverage. The rain stopped. I walked around the parking area trying to find a zone.

A couple of UVM college kids in a truck drove up to me and asked me if I knew where the trail to Camel’s Hump was. I said, “I can show you EXACTLY where it is,” and went on to explain my predicament. They were planning on hiking up for an overnighter and appreciated my offer. I put my bike in the back of the truck and jumped in…saved.

Unfortunately cell coverage along the Main Road in Huntington sucks and I didn’t get through to Rich until the guys had dropped me off at a store south of Hinesburg. Rich called 3 people and finally got through to Catherine who lived just down the road from the Gap...she volunteered to try to rescue me. However, we couldn’t reach her to cancel…she had already left.

I decided to try and put air in the tire and limp the 5 miles back home. The sun was out and I was happy to be within reach of my house. I made it back without a flat and immediately left a message for Catherine to thank her for her kindness. I wound up talking to her later and she said she had driven up, and when she didn’t see me, drove down to Mad River just in case I had gone there (it was my one of the options I thought of when I was huddled under the tower). No worries…glad to help…and to know how friends come through when needed.

Funny, when I tell this story to people, I mention how crazy those UVM students were to think about climbing Camel’s Hump to spend the night…especially with all the thunderstorms forecasted.