Like many cycling enthusiasts, I’ve often dreamt of the glory of winning a professional race. The imagined elation of a Tour de France stage win, or even a Monument Classic, fills the mind with vivid scenes: zipping up the jersey, a triumphant shout, and the podium celebration. However, the reality of my cycling life is far removed from such fantasies. My sportive targets are usually more down-to-earth: achieving a personal best, outperforming a friend, or simply completing the course, like the Amstel Gold Race or Granfondo Stelvio. Podium finishes? Pure imagination.
Yet, there I was, participating in the Bikes & Beers Kent Island sportive with my new cycling buddy, Matt, and a crazy thought popped into my head. Could we actually be leading?
“Matt,” I asked, “This might sound insane, but are we in front?”
“I think so,” he replied, “Haven’t seen anyone for ages. Rest stop’s just up ahead.”
“Got plenty of water, don’t need to stop.” I said.
“Me neither.” Matt agreed.
A moment of silence hung in the air before I voiced the unspoken: “We could win this, you know. I know they said it’s not a race at the start…”
Matt’s response was decisive: “It is now.”
And just like that, the challenge was set. We were in a breakaway, pushing to stay ahead of the pack for the remaining 40km. Victory or valiant defeat awaited.
The Allure of Bikes & Beers
My history with sportives in the US often revolves around two key elements: bikes and, of course, beers. So, an event explicitly named Bikes & Beers was an obvious choice. Located conveniently near our new home in Annapolis, Kent Island, and boasting a manageable 77km route with minimal elevation gain, it ticked all the boxes. Crab cakes were on my mind as much as kilometers. My mother was visiting, and I was aiming to finish early enough to enjoy a celebratory meal at Harris Crab House before her flight home.
Bikes and beers event start line, emphasizing the social aspect of cycling and post-ride beer
The social vibe of Bikes & Beers events was clear from the start line in Stevensville, next to the Cult Classic Brewing Company, the source of the post-ride refreshments. The announcer’s repeated reminder that “this is not a race” set a relaxed tone. The initial kilometers were indeed a leisurely group ride. I gradually moved ahead of slower groups, spotting only a few riders further up the road.
Forming a Breakaway Partnership
“You seem to be going my pace, want to ride together?” a voice called from behind. It was a rider in a red jersey and another with a magnificent beard, reminiscent of a Canadian lumberjack. I accepted the offer, and we rode as a trio briefly.
However, our alliance was short-lived. Beard’s water bottle bounced out, causing him and Red Jersey to turn back. Should cycling etiquette have dictated that I wait? Perhaps. Probably. But the thought of those crab cakes spurred me onward.
Entering the wooden boardwalks of Kent Island, I checked my Garmin: 34kph… 35… 36… I felt like I was matching the speed of the cars on Route 301. That’s when I caught up with Matt. Initially, I tried to push ahead, but he latched onto my wheel tenaciously. We traded places, and I realized we should collaborate rather than compete against each other. We exchanged names – “I’m Andy,” “Matt” – and a cycling partnership was born.
We maintained a brisk pace of nearly 40kph on the flat roads, passing opulent houses with pools and tennis courts, heading towards Bennetts Point before turning back towards the feed station in Grasonville. Riding back the same route gave me a chance to assess the other participants. Many were enjoying a casual ride – Bikes & Beers Kent Island is perfect for sportive first-timers – but there were also groups of more serious cyclists. If they organized a chase, Matt and I might be caught. But looking back, the road behind was empty. No one was closing in.
“Matt, I know this sounds crazy but are we actually in the lead?…”
Open road cycling during Bikes and Beers sportive, showcasing scenic routes and the joy of riding
Bikes and beers sportive on boardwalk trails, highlighting the varied terrain and fun atmosphere
Full Throttle to the Finish
Having decided to skip the feed station, the race was truly on. Full gas. Matt took long turns at the front. He might not look like a powerhouse cyclist, but he had an impressive engine. I struggled to keep his wheel, especially into the headwind. Drafting allowed for minimal conversation. I gleaned that he was a tattoo artist from Annapolis with two daughters, planning a camping trip. Under the circumstances, that made us close friends.
I pushed hard, head down, in the drops. Then, a gate! I spotted it just in time, skidding to a halt with a maneuver that would have impressed my teenage self, escaping with a jolt and some white paint on my arm. Matt wasn’t so fortunate. He collided with the gate, somehow executing an improbable handstand that would have made Simone Biles envious. Seriously, we were lucky to avoid serious injury – a stark reminder to stay focused.
Battling the Elements and Fatigue
The morning mist had cleared, and the sun intensified, pushing the temperature above 30C. I can usually handle heat, within reason, but the humidity in this part of the US is brutal. It saps energy and drains you. As we rode along the bike path by Romancoke Road, I began to fade. Low on water, no food, and with the first twinges of cramp, my pace dropped. Still respectably quick, but not enough to stay with Matt. The gap widened – five meters, then ten, then twenty – until he disappeared from sight. It was a good run while it lasted.
But wait, there he was again, and I was closing the gap. Twenty meters… fifteen… ten… five… “You okay, Matt?”
“Calf cramp,” he grimaced. “You?”
“Yeah, feel like I’m about to cramp everywhere. But only about 15k left.”
We quickly calculated the distance to the nearest riders behind us. At least a 3km lead, by my estimation. Barring a mechanical issue, we should hold on. But would it be first or second place?
Cramp and Compromise
Then, groin cramp struck. With only 10k to go, it hit, first on the right, then the left. Payback for skipping the feed station and pushing too hard early on. Standing up in the pedals offered temporary relief, but my speed dropped to around 25kph. I was losing ground.
A scene from ‘The Wild Geese’ flashed into my mind, where a wounded soldier begs his friend to end his suffering. While less dramatic, I was facing a similar moment of cycling despair.
“Matt, I’m cramping. I can’t keep up…”
“Should I slow down?” he offered.
“No, Matt, go on. I’m slowing you down. Go win this for both of us. I’ll try to hold off anyone chasing.”
Perhaps a bit dramatic, but that was the sentiment. My chance for gold was gone, and even a podium spot was in jeopardy. I emptied the last of my water and pushed through the pain.
Riding through Stevensville’s Main Street, I expected to be overtaken any moment. Turning into the shopping center where the finish banner was located, I risked a glance back. Thankfully, no one in sight. I wouldn’t have backed myself in a sprint anyway. I even managed a celebratory handlebar slap as I crossed the line.
Bikes and beers sportive finish line, celebrating the accomplishment with the promise of beer
Post-ride beers at Bikes and Beers event, a perfect way to celebrate cycling with friends
Was I disappointed at second place after dreaming of gold? Not at all. I’d given my best and been beaten by a stronger rider on the day. Matt was there, ready to celebrate with a handshake, a hug, and several well-deserved beers at the Cult Classic Brewing Company. Thankfully, family duties called, whisking me away to Harris Crab House before I could truly indulge in the post-victory beers.
There were no finisher medals, but we received two free beers and a Bikes & Beers pint glass. This glass now proudly sits in our freezer, and each time I enjoy a Dogfish Head IPA in it, happy memories of the ride flood back.
Bikes & Beers: A Perfect Epitaph
Bikes & Beers. It could be our motto, a T-shirt slogan, even an epitaph. Avid readers of Broleur have often noticed the recurring theme of beer in our cycling adventures.
We’ve enjoyed many memorable post-ride brews. The Grimbergens after the Tour of Flanders, the Amstel Gold beers after the Amstel Gold Race sportive, Welsh ales after the Trans Cambrian Way, and even Polish lagers during Zwift training sessions.
We could try to justify it with pseudo-science about carbs, protein, and electrolytes, but let’s be honest. Apart from maybe an ice-cold Coke, nothing beats a post-ride beer. The closer to the finish line, the better. And what better way to toast a great day of cycling than with a cold beer and good company? Cheers to Bikes And Beers!
