ugh, that hurt...

James and I met the CAMBC crew at the Whetstone Ridge trailhead on Sunday. I had never ridden this trail and had heard nothing but stellar reviews. Wet leaves on wet rocks all along Whetstone ridge met our tires for a rolling adventure. When I left the house to meet James, I was feeling a bit queasy but thought it would pass. I had loaded up with a bagel and double mocha from Blue Mountain Coffee, ample fuel for the ride. As I progressed along the trail I felt something wasn't right. About an hour into the ride the first waves of nausea hit as the crew stopped for a regroup and lunch, I tried to drink some cytomax but could only take a few sips. Another half-hour passed and at another regroup stop I pushed my bike past the crew and puked 5 or 6 times. Nothing I could do at this point of the ride but keep moving forward. I started pushing the bike more on the climbs and even the descents and when I descended to Irish Creek road I was riding like a beginner, tentative and hoping for an end to the ride. The climb up Irish Creek road is around 10 miles. At a stop at a small church I refilled my water bottle after pouring out the cytomax which I couldn't even sip. With nothing in my stomach and a few sips of water, a full scale bonk set in to accompany me on the ride up the mountain. James and Michelle rode along with me for a while until I couldn't hang any longer. The plan was made; James would ride up the mountain and come back down with his truck to end my suffering. With around 3 or 4 miles to go Ted G was a welcome sight in his truck. He loaded my bike and we drove to the top where James was waiting for me. Damn that hurt. That was the worse bonk ever, one that I wouldn't wish upon my worse enemy. I went straight to bed when I arrived home wishing for an end to the agony. I still felt bad when I got to work on Monday and then I found out that a stomach virus was running around which was the cause of my pain.