Gunks Century Century/HQ Grand Opening

Well connoisseurs of the sadomasochism, once again the New East Coast Syndicate was on the pain train in a big way. Leading up to the Wilderness 101 coach Marci de Sade had issued orders for yet another century ride and this time the temps (with heat index) were well above the century mark.
Looking to maximize pain and discomfort the first 40 miles would feature 3 climbs up the east face of the Shawangunks starting with the 2 mile wall to Monhonk Mountain House and then two laps up Clove Rd/MInnewaska State Park. Just to up the difficultly level a bit more the first place to resupply on fluids would be at 51 miles meaning I would be pack muling 5 large bottles up the first climb. At the refill stop it was 3 bottles over the head, a refill of all 5 and a bag of ice down the back of the jersey to help cool off. After cresting Sampsonville it was a swooping downhill into Krumville then up the back side of Mohonk. Crossing back over the ridge I felt like I too was at the prison camp by the river Kwai as the temps on the road were well into triple digits.On the final stretch to the house the turkey thermometer finally popped and I was cooked. A quick text to Mrs. C-Dubs and I was assured there would be an ice cold bath upon my arrival. Panting as I dropped the bike at the front door it
Towelieing off from the dip it was off to the new Dark Horse HQ for the big move. Everyone, well almost everyone, was there to load up the old shop and unload at the new one.

Rodin Mike Davidson busy contemplating all the fun he missed

Half the crew was at the old shop loading the Rossi Barn truck with bikes and swag while the smarter half had Mrs C-Dubs guarding the cooler until the final load showed up. With the cooler out of beer Officer C-Dubs was called in to keep the troops from rioting until the kegerator pulled in, escorted by the Newburgh Hillbillies with a load of pizza and Dale's Pale Ale.

NECS Non Race #2 - Peekamoose 100

We here at the New East Coast Syndicate have been as busy as our fellow warriors of the St. Louis tribe. Deployment orders were issued for the second non race of the season and participation was up 400% over last year with only the bravest 4 stepping up to the line for the Peekamoose 100 (the balance of the troops were getting in touch with their feminine side at Stewart with a lesson in nature from every one's favorite nature boy - The Mayor).
With the hottest day of the summer forecast and temps pushing close to the century mark we gave the Team Seagal salute, saddled up and headed off for our date with destiny.This year, just to add to the pain, the course was rerouted to include the Sampsonville Road around mile 75. A nice, fully exposed to the sun, set of steep pitches guaranteed to make grown men cry. Opening with a tour through Top Chef's old hood soon enough we were onto the 44/55 pass for the first of day's four climbs. Not long after the start of the climb Aaron "Obamador" Anaya showed the legs that would win the Arrogant Bastard beer/KOM classification for the day, leading over the summit of every climb except Peekamoose and making the rest of us feel his pain.By the time we hit Roundout Reservoir the gu had kicked in and the shouts of "fire in the hole" were coming from Top Chef. The resulting clouds had caught Fat Chick and he was off the back struggling for a breath of fresh air.
FC During Happier Times On The Ride

The Troops Pounding Out The Miles

Coming off Peekamoose Top Chef, Obamador and C-Dubs hung it out and topped out close to 50 mph before settling into a high speed pace line to the bottom. Shortly after we were rolling into one of the many espresso stations Top Chef has incorporated into our rides. With the heat rising Fat Chick restocked and rolled out toward the Sampsonville climb while the rest of us indulged in food, caffeine and a refill of the bottles. We finally caught FC halfway up the climb at which point everyone was getting fully cooked from the sun and heat. Finishing with a descent into Kerhonkson we loaded up on the cold water and poured a couple of gallons over our heads before setting out for the climb back over 44/55. The Final Summit Guppy

Driven on by the realization that ice cold beer was only one 5 mile climb away, one by one we crested the summit and bombed the final descent back to HQ where we arrived at 4:20. There Mrs. C-Dubs had a crew on hand, a cooler of beer and tons of food to consume. With a good buzz on and a full belly we settled on the couch to catch up on the crashfest called the Tour.