Sean's First Hand Account of the Ride to Negril -'04

It was the 16 Oct. 2004 ... Heroes Day.. when we cyclists annually wage war on the roads from Kingston to Negril, armoured in our tightly knitted shirts , shorts, gloves and helmet armed with our finely tuned bicycles, bottles of water, gatorade and nutribars.

We departed from the intersection of Molynes Rd. and Washington Blvd. at 5:00am. with a frenzy of anticipation, as is known that some warriors of cycle may not survive the battle. Some other warriors have made this ride before as much as eleven times but for me this was my inaugural battle of Negril. Many a word of caution was thown to my ear as I tried to heed to them all, "Keep hydrated, eat constantly as will burn the calories constantly and play no hero."

I had heard the stories many times, how the hills turn into mountains that never stop coming, attacking you, especially the notorious Melrose Hill... how treacherous the climb is into Mandeville with the sun constantly beating down on you, but now this is my reality... the water now has the temperature of a hotcup of tea, my heart rate has reached limits where I have never seen it before, forced to slow to bring it down or risk a cardiac arrest... choices choices... but finally the climb into Mandeville (58 miles-9:14am) is over and we stop and get watered up & fed ourselves, only to catch a breath before heading out.

No sooner had we begin departed Mandeville than the road did damage to two members of the groups tyres. Quickly we repaired them before continuing our journey. The approach to Spur Tree has many undulating hills that take its toll on the finest of riders, but finally we begin the decent of Spur Tree. First we relax a bit and coast into the decent but quickly the speeds increase from a mere 26mph to 35mph.

Then some of us decide to attack it we slip into our highest gear apply additional pressure to cranks on a straight away. I glimps at my clock 52mph. With a hair pin bend approaching I carefully squeeze my brakes and lean hard into the turn.

With temps as if to bend the the cranks I power out of the corner. The heavy vehicles have left the road surface fairly uneven on this seven mile hill so at such speeds the bumps put a serious beating on elbows and wrists. Finally the descent is over as we welcome the plains of Vere as we roll into Santa Cruz with the sun beating down on us with little or no clouds in the sky. We ride through Holland Bamboo wishing that Ivan had not thinned the once thick lush Bamboo Avenue which would have guaranteed us much well needed miles of shade.

No stopping for shrimp as the paced picked up passing Middle Quarters, the sweltering midday sun continued to play havoc as we countered it with quarts and quarts of water and gatorade as we tried to replenish the lost nutrients from our very tired bodies.

The next scheduled stop was to be the UniPet station at Luana but two miles before we made a unanimous descision to stop and refuel with liquids from our support vehicle travelling behind us. Next stop lunch 11:30am Luana , rest, stretch and repairs pushed of at 12:19pm where we rode for another hour and fifteen minutes which took us to the town of Savana-la-Mar. One of tales that was often told was of the afternoon rain which was an always welcomed site, but no amount of prayer and dance would intice this visitor on this day, as the temperature soared to a hundred and five degrees farenheit sucking every bit of energy from our bodies (or at least mine!) But not giving in we continued press our pedals and watch the hundred and fourty mile ride diminish mile by mile as we finally rolled our way into the town of Negril and then Point Village our final destination.

Battle was done, but who the victor? Come next year, same time the war of the cycle will again be waged.

(Sean is in the middle in yellow jersey.)