GRAN FONDO SHEDIAC 

Since it was my turn to pick the Gran Fondo this year, I chose the flattest one. Everyone who knows me knows I hate hills!

The five elder members of the Over The Hill Gang (OTHG) have been riding together for twenty years or so and we range in age from mid 60s to the oldest, Russ Melanson, who turned 77 in July. Other “senior” members of the group are Ira Birt, Richard Birt, and John MacQuarrie. For various reasons, all three were unable to attend.

Russ and I hitched a ride with Kent Wood, a “junior” member of OTHG who’s only 51. We left home at 5:30 and got to the registration desk in plenty of time to pick up our swag bags, don our riding kits, and get the bikes ready for the start. The temperature was 11 degrees, perfect for me, and the sun was shining as we milled around the parking area in front of Centre Homarus. Race organizers went through a list of dos and don’ts and lined us up on front of the start banner.

Kent had been assigned the task of leading us out, with Russ behind and me as lanterne rouge. We rolled up Main Street toward the traffic lights and took a right at the Irving, heading north on Rte. 133/134. Kent weaved through traffic, leading us past several slower riders. Russ and I soon realized that he had his eye on the fast bunch, so we backed off and settled into our pace. We rolled past Shediac Cape and across the Shediac Bridge before turning right towards Grande-Digue. I’d driven these roads before, but not since the 1970s.

We were caught by a group of eight riders near Cap-des-Caissie and hooked onto the back of their paceline, hoping to ride with them to the half-way point. We reeled in a few more as we rolled along at a nice, steady pace. The scenery along Rte. 530 is beautiful, the road surface is good, and the early morning Sunday traffic was very light. We rounded Cap-de-Cocagne, went through Saint-Marcel, crossed the Cocagne River bridge, and turned right onto Rte. 535. Much to our disappointment, the group we’d been riding with stopped at the feeding station, so we took off alone, hoping we were following the right route.

Just after crossing a bridge, we hit new pavement. For anyone who’s done a lot of road cycling, there are few prettier sights than new blacktop! And it wasn’t one of the one kilometer stretches we’ve become accustomed to on Prince Edward Island. No sir! It took us through Cormierville and Bar-de-Cocagne, all the way to Saint-Thomas-de-Kent! The gorgeous views and the smell of the ocean made us feel right at home. We faced a slight headwind, but not enough to be a bother. We enjoyed the rollers around Dixon Point, took in the beauty of Boutouche Bay, and rejoined Rte. 134 at Saint-François-de-Kent.

After crossing the Little Bouctouche River, we ran up the small hill and rolled down into the town. I’d been to Bouctouche several times, most recently in June when my granddaughter, Lucie, participated in Les Jeux de l’Acadie. It has a lot to offer the visitor, including nice accommodations, good restaurants, and my favourite, Le Pays de la Sagouine. But Russ and I had other things in mind on this day, the main one being how to find our way to Le Centre d’interprétation de la Dune de Bouctouche. Should we turn left or go straight? We decided to follow the star, La route du littoral Acadien. Soon after, we met the fast riders on their way back, Kent among them, and knew we were on the right track. We stocked up on Gatorade at the feeding station, got a bit of food into our bellies, and thanked the volunteers for helping us.

We’d hoped to work with a group for at least part of the 65 km return journey, but no one seemed particularly interested. They were either too fast and had already left or too slow to get going. For those who’ve ridden in Fondos, you’ll know that it’s not easy to find riders that ride the same way you do and with whom you feel safe. Both feeling pretty strong, we got into a nice rhythm, each taking a turn on the front. The ride along the shore, across the creeks and rivers, and around the bays proved every bit as beautiful on the way back to Shediac.

On a long ride like this one, my thoughts always turn to friends I’ve ridden with who are no longer with us or who have slowed down or stopped riding altogether. I lost one of my Florida riding buddies, George Constantelos, just a few months ago. I’m thankful to be able to do this, after four years of searching for a drug to control my heart condition, a-fib.

We had hoped for a slight tail wind to make the return trip a bit easier, but the flags were barely moving, and those that were signalled an onshore breeze. After Cocagne, we caught and passed riders on their way back from the 70 km Medio Fondo. Just before we rejoined Rte. 134 at Shediac, Russ told me he was getting tired and “released” me to go it alone.

I TT’d the last 10 kilometers or so and emptied the tank before I rolled into the parking lot and crossed the finish line, just under 4 hours and 2 minutes; according to my Garmin, 31.97 kilometers per hour. I guess I can round it off at 32! I’ll turn 71 in a few weeks, so that’s not a bad time, considering Russ and I rode almost all the route on our own. He arrived a short time  later, and one of the nice volunteers took our photo. She said her husband was doing the 130 as well: “Y aura pas grand action chez-nous à soir!”, she told me. “Pi chez-nous non plus!” I replied.

Kent joined us as we listened to the excellent two-man group on stage play an impressive répertoire of popular and Acadian songs. Then it was time for the lobster feast, a nice one-pounder with all the fixins’. For those who’ve ridden one, the après-Fondo is an occasion for meeting new people, thanking volunteers, and replaying every kilometer of the ride with whoever will listen!

Gran Fondo Shediac organizers should be very proud of this event. Although perfect weather added greatly to the ambiance, it’s always the smiles on the faces of event organizers and volunteers that do it for me. Shediac is on par with one of my favourite Gran Fondos, Baie-Sainte-Marie. Maybe it’s because of my strong Acadian bias. More likely, it’s the immense pride I feel when I see my people hit it out of the park with an event like this.

En espérant se revoir l’année prochaine!