There just aren’t enough large organized rides in the area.
This year I wanted to do more massive rides, with tons of people and longer routes. I was sort of satisfied with that earlier in the year with the B&O Ride. And then there’s the NITE Ride that attracts thousands (but somehow seemed smaller). I was dubious about the Tour De Carmel – mostly because I couldn’t find much information on it. Oh sure, the Carmel Parks Department had a small page devoted to the ride, but there were no photos and no reviews. The route was an ambiguous sketch downloadable as a PDF that didn’t tell me much beyond the major streets.
I mean… where are the obvious questions and answers? What time does it start? Do they do staggered waves? How will the routes be marked (if at all)? Will I get a print out of the route? What should I expect as someone who has never done the ride before? Where should I park? What’s the expected attendance?
It was enough to give me reason to not do the ride. I didn’t want to get up early, get to Carmel and find a disorganized ride that sent you out on your own and expected you to follow the route with some amount of foreknowledge that didn’t get you hopelessly lost in the twisting McMansion-lined roads of Hamilton County. I’d painstakingly plotted the route on Google Maps (even making up for where the route map was inaccurate) and hoped that my iPhone would be my guide in the event of confusion. I loaded up my trusty ’09 Giant Rapid 3 and off I went.
The morning was cool and overcast. It was almost a perfect morning, if only the clouds didn’t look so full of rain. I had been to the Monon Center once before and I used to ride the trail to work when I lived in Carmel. Things had changed, however and the area was intensely developed. The Monon Center itself is a wonder to behold. The facility borders both sides of the trail where cornfields once stood. An immense water park is attached to the west side building, which holds a large basketball court complex as well as… well – lots and lots of stuff. It has everything your modern health club would have and more.
I checked in easily enough, though maybe there was a bit too much emphasis on pre-registered riders versus walk-ups. Pre-reg was spread across two empty canopied tables where day-ofs were crowded under one tent, attempting to fill out a registration form on a single water-spotted table. I managed the form well enough, though I’m pretty sure the document was normally used for signing up kids for summer activities at the center.
One quick trip back to the car to fetch my bike, stow personal items and lock up the car and I was one my way. Milling around near the check-in didn’t tell me too much, other than that the starting line was about 100 yards away. It was maybe 8:45 and the ride was scheduled to start, at the latest, by 9:00am. So I shuffled closer to the starting line, noting that no one else was really doing the same. And that’s when the announcement came.
The voice from the loudspeakers said that if we were checked in, we could start the ride at any time. If we weren’t on the route by 9am, the ride organizers were going to start pulling the route signs soon after. Well, that’s one question answered. No staggered start and heck – no definitive start time. Just get on the bike and go. I suppose that’s done to disuade a huge traffic jam on the narrow Monon trail. It’s a narrow multi-use path, so there were plenty of joggers, pedestrians, and non-ride cyclists out in the morning.
Off I went, with no Google maps engaged and only a vague notion of the route. I hadn’t figured out how to do proper GPS voice navigation anyway. Instead, I looked for the orange bracelets or orange t-shirts that the other riders were wearing and kept pace until I’d figured out just how the ride worked as we went north along the trail.
I’d ridden up to 146th street via the trail that shoots off from the Monon once or twice. It’s a nice little winding path through the woods and over a wooden bridge. The morning fog made this stretch of the ride very peaceful. At the end of the trail, where it met 146th street, I got my next answer. There were volunteers at each major turn. They waved their arms and shouted directions; “Turn right and then right on the next street!” So I did.
Also, there were generic yard signs that read “Carmel Clay Parks,” with arrows pointing the direction you needed to go. So with double enforcement at any major point in the ride, you were bound to know where to go. Good enough. Even better were the cops at major intersections stopping traffic. There were lots of cops stopping traffic. They were even waving me to go from a great distance away as I snaked along traffic at one point. The cops were very nice.
From there on, it was a casual and winding path through the more affluent areas housing clusters of Carmel. Large stone houses with multi-car garages and vibrant green grass were boundless. Occasionally I’d spy a young suburbanite out walking their dog, but overall, the streets were eerily quite and vacant. Only the sound of wheels on pavement gave any evidence of life.
I’m torn at this point. The reactionary anti-establisment punk in me should be repulsed by the cookie-cutter, crisp, clean and sanitized existence places like this present. But on the other hand, there were some really nice houses. I could just imagine that they were the sort of places where everyone in the family took their shoes off when they walked in, and you could walk around in bright white socks without fear of getting your socks dirty. There would be plush sectional sofas equipped with cool but enveloping comforters for burying yourself under while the family watched Dancing With The Stars after dinner.
Anyway…
The Tour was quite obviously a casual affair. At a moderate and easy pace, I passed group after group of riders – even the ones with road bikes. I wasn’t trying to go fast. I was simply faster. The only time I was passed was when I opted to take the sidewalk over the street, since I think it was what you were supposed to do.
I don’t like riding on side-walks and it seems silly to do so for a bike tour, but really – we were directed to get on the walks by signs that said either “keep left” or “keep right”. It was odd, not safe and slow going. I’d blown by two rest stops before having to stop because the route went on the sidewalk in front of the third rest stop and everyone was crowding the walk. Meh.
Overall, I made the 20 miles in about two hours. I never had to consult my map and I was never really unsure of where to go. The tour went mostly through neighborhoods big and small, old and new. The pace was relaxed and for the most part the streets were clear of drivers. My only minor annoyance was encountering a high school track team running into traffic (i.e. right at me) while having a jackass in an old corvette pacing me, but refusing to pass, on my left flank. Enh. I’d do it again.
