A new ride to me. A cancer ride sponsored by Amy’s Army of Cancer Warriors benefitting the VCU- Massey Cancer Center.
Libby Hill
Logistically, I decided I would park at Stone Brewery, a huge lot about a mile from Libby Hill Park. There were only a handful of cars there and the parking space I was looking at (near a tree) had lots of broken auto glass – the sign of a break-in earlier. Ugh.
Libby Hill
I had to check-in and pick up my timing chip before the ride. I rode up Williamsburg Avenue and turned on Libby Hill. Our route would take us up this climb twice on our ride. I decided to make it three. There was as much grass as there were cobbles. It was actually an easy climb. Not steep. Not long. And the stones weren’t that annoying.
Looking down Libby Hill
Throwing some numbers at it – the best I can tell the climb is about 220 meters with an average or steep grade of 9%. While we did two climbs, the pro men in 2015 for the UCI World Championships did 16 climbs up the hill.
Riding in Memory of Jacob Grecco Alex Shepherd Janice Lowmaster Kay Walborn
I positioned myself at the back of the group for rollout. When we were ready to go they announced that I was at the front. Oh well. I turned my bike around and rolled up behind the police cruiser who would escort us for a four-mile urban loop before bringing us back to Libby Hill where we would climb the hill, for the “first’ time. This one was timed.
The parking lot at Stone Brewery
As we rolled through the Richmond streets the calls of “Hole!” echoed throughout our group. The streets were in bad shape. This was very unfortunate. I was second wheel behind the cruiser on the right. Perhaps third or fourth wheel on the far left was a rider who came upon one of those holes.
Statue at top of Libby Hill Park
We may never know what happened next. It appears it hit it hard. We all heard a loud bang – sounds like a gun but it was the sound of a tire exploding. I heard a crack and in my periphery, I heard two bikes coming together and I saw at least one but I think two riders going over their handlebars while their bikes went up in the air. As far as I know, only two riders were involved which is a small miracle.
At the start line. Little did I know we would turn around to start and I would be in the front, not back.
I did not slow down nor turn to look to see what happened. Any sudden action by me might cause more riders to crash. I yelled “Riders down!” and we told the police to go back and check. We waited for 20 minutes until the ambulance arrived and took the riders away.
Waiting for an ambulance for our riders who went down
At Libby Hill, I crossed the timing mat and then, a rider in front of me, stopped, lifted his bike in my path, and turned around. Any chance I had of doing well on the climb was taken away from me by an inconsiderate rider.
Volunteers at Rest Stop 1 – They make the event happen
While I had been riding first or second wheel behind the cruiser, the word must have gone out to leave the accident scene without the police escort. I had gone from the front of the group to the rear (hence the guy in my way at the bottom of the climb). Once over the top, I locked into a group of orange riders. The group was mostly women but there were some men.
The James River, Richmond
We rode 24 miles to the first stop. Mostly I chatted with an unnamed guy and the big takeaway was telling him about and letting him try my Dual Eyeware sunglasses since he couldn’t read his Garmin. He was impressed. He then met some friends and took off with them.
My 10-year Cancerversary
I stayed with the group I was in. They were with Sweet Spot Cycling. Most seemed to be 30-40s somethings although one woman was riding after a partial knee replacement in July. Based on the age of knee replacements, she was probably on the north side of the 40-something range. Kudos to her!
Sharon MacLean Maggie Hopkins Barton, Leary Jessica Conley, Dixie Newsome, Erin Silliman Wittwer, Marion Palme, Ashley Gibbs.. Source: Maggie Hopkins Barton Facebook Post shared by Amy’s Army of Cancer Warriors (Sept. 23, 2019)
We skipped Rest 2 and rode 30 miles to Rest 3. We averaged 18.2 mph with most, but not all, taking pulls. I did. Some of the non-Sweet Spot riders never came to the front. The last 10 miles we averaged another 18 mph. I backed off before the climb just so it wasn’t so crowded. Once I hit the climb my legs knew it. The first two times were easy. The last one was not – it’s what having 60 miles in your legs will do.
Alongside the James River returning to Richmond
I passed a couple of riders and was out of the saddle at the end. I thought I was way worse but unofficially was just eight seconds slower. It just felt much slower.
Rider finishing on Libby Hill
It was an enjoyable ride. I sought out one of the Sweet Spot riders to thank them for letting me join in with them. I would do this ride again and recommend it to others.
The weekend began yesterday with an invitation-only ride out of Harrisonburg with Jeremiah Bishop and The Vegan Cyclist. Jeremiah took us off-road where he may have been the only one comfortable going down dirt roads. But no one fell and we made it back to registration at Craft Brothers Brewing in one piece.
The Saturday Ride
In summarizing today, one only needs to look at last year’s post. I sucked on the first mountain climb. I sucked more on Reddish Knob. Cramped. I decided it was best not to do the 20-mile loop making a century ride.
Three prostate cancer survivors: Mike, Robert, Barry
Of my eight times doing this event, this started out the most perfect. The temperature was just right (mid 60s). I was at the start line plenty early to say hello to friends.
Rollout thru Harrisonburg Barry is front and center in yellow Source: Alpine Loop Gran Fondo Facebook Page (Erin Bishop)
One thing I did not do was to pick up a timing chip to be timed on the climbs. I finished dead last in the WORLD last year at the World Hillclimbs Championship so who am I fooling thinking I would win anything? Plus, without a chip, I may be free to stop and take pictures.
Passing the Amish. She asked us if we were all local.
At the start line, we were called out or recognized. As a prostate cancer survivor, I am always recognized. I’m sort of like a mascot. A big cancer-surviving mascot.
Sunday morning group ride
At 8:00 a.m. we rolled out. I was in the front row and stayed there for the first couple of miles. When we turned off the road I dropped back four or five places. But we were often doing 20-25 mph in tight quarters. Except for Jeremiah Bishop, these are not professionals. I am not a professional. I am just uncomfortable riding that close to that many strangers. I pulled off at a Mennonite Church and let 100-150 riders go by before jumping back in.
The climb on U.S. Rte 33
A century ride should be ridden as easy; medium; hard. That is, ride the first third easy. And I wasn’t. Maybe they were riding easy but it was more effort than I wanted to use at that point. It was foolish for me to ride hard to stay with the group. I backed off.
Top of the Shenandoah – Camera lens blurred with sweat
I was seemingly passed by everyone on the road. Many times I thought I was dead last but often 4-5 minutes later someone else would pass me. Sometimes groups of 3-4 riders went flying by. Where were they hiding?
Volunteers at Rest 1
We got to the first mountain climb, Shenandoah Mountain on U.S. Rte. 33. I was passed by 22 riders and passed no one. I was having a bad day. I briefly talked to 16-year-old Ben, who I helped last year. He had passed me but then I caught him and asked him if he was going for another jersey. He told me he was but didn’t think he had a chance. I hope he made it. We both stopped briefly at the summit but I had a good fast descent and didn’t see him after that.
At Reddish Knob Road I started the climb. It is tough. It begins with a one-mile climb followed by a one-mile descent. Then the fun begins. It’s a five-mile climb with 1,635′ of gain. That averages to 6.2% but that is skewed by the last half mile or so which flattens out. By contrast, the seven-mile climb at Horseshoe Curve (Altoona, Pa.) averages about 4%. That one does have a very tough section of 20% though. But Reddish Knob is harder.
Barry at start of Reddish Knob
I was passed by five riders going up Reddish. But three of those I eventually passed back as they were pushing their bikes. It is tough. One guy was paperboying all over the road and still passed me. Until he walked.
Welcome, Gran Fonda. Henry, I hope.
It took everything I had not to stop. Not to walk. I dug deep then went deeper. My right knee was hurting. I made the decision to do the 80-mile route and forgo the century. I also tried to make plans for dinner with the granddaughters in Martinsburg and I couldn’t do both.
One-lane bridge
The last 20 miles went fine. The last 40 may not have. Occasionally I was passed by a rider or two. I was always amazed at the pop they still had in their pedals while I struggled.
Back roads of the Alpine Loop
And like last year, Katie Yates came over from JMU to meet me. Unlike last year, a storm moved in which would have caught me on course had I not ended early.
Barry at finish (holding an ice-cold towel)
This ride gets harder every year. I have to either get younger or lose weight. I am carrying too much weight up these mountains (although the downhill portion is fun).
I was hoping to ride on Friday with my friend, Laura Snyder, but that did not quite work out. When that opportunity passed she suggested Sunday morning could work. I took her up on it.
Laura on the Creekside Trail
Laura and her husband, Chris, met me at the Creekside Trail in Beavercreek for a 7:00 a.m. rollout. A rail trail, it is wide with good pavement and few riders (at least compared to the W&OD in Virginia).
Xenia, Ohio
We headed east on the trail towards Xenia which was only seven miles away. We sort of lost “the scent” of the trail at the train station. Or maybe we didn’t. I was thinking we would connect with the Little Miami Scenic Trail which runs north to Springfield. And I see now we could have.
Chris and Barry (Credit: Laura)
Chris and Laura were time-pressed. Although normally it would have been for church, Chris was leaving town for a week on business so we had to turn around and get back to the start.
Barry and Laura
After saying goodbye, I rode more, this time to the west. Entering Montgomery County the trail got narrower and it wasn’t as good as it was in Greene Co. The trail may have also been older but there was a marked difference.Xenia, Ohio
I followed the trail to Eastwood Metropark in Dayton. I think I picked up the Mad River Trail. I ended up at Wright Patterson Air Force Base Museum. This brought back some pleasant memories. We lived near here in the mid-60s. Money was very tight and family activities meant to find things that were free.
Eastwood Metropark
The Air Force Museum was free. The first time we went we followed the signs and were directed to Gate 35c. My dad saw that and thought he needed 35 cents. And I’m not sure he had it. But when he approached the sentry he waved us on, and Dad was probably not the first person who thought that.Air Force Museum
I smiled as I thought of that memory then turned around. I needed to get back on the road to Virginia.
Barry, Chris, and Laura selfie (Credit: Laura)As I was going through a parking lot in the Eastwood Metropark, a car backed out of a space never seeing me. A man walking a dog yelled to the driver, “there’s a bike behind you.” I swerved and did a U-turn. The driver sped off, and I’m still not sure he ever saw me. As I left the walker said, “that was close, wasn’t it?” I told him as far as drivers go, it really wasn’t that bad.Beavercreek Station
Maybe it was the company I had for the first half. Or perhaps the enjoyment of exploration. Or maybe the gorgeous weather. But it was very enjoyable and I hope to get back to the Dayton area to ride again.
The ride begins with the stay the night before. Trying to bump my status with Marriott, I was just looking at their properties. The Courtyard by Marriott is a nice hotel and was about $20 less than Fairfield Inn. The only difference for me was Courtyard did not offer a free breakfast.
At Flap Jacks in Lebanon
Now, was it worth $20 for a free breakfast of powdered scrambled eggs and concentrated orange juice? I decided it wasn’t. I took the Courtyard, left early, and ate at Flap Jacks in Lebanon. Ordered the three-pancake breakfast. That was $6.27 so I came out $13 to the plus. (less tip, of course)
Lebanon, Ind.
Ken Hart greeted me at registration and said “I thought we might see you here since you were in Piqua, Ohio yesterday (posted on Facebook). Cindi Hart did a little better – a big hug. Always a big hug from Cindi.
Lebanon, Ind.
I went for a four-mile warmup ride in preparation for the 100-mile ride. Arriving back, cancer survivors (or warriors or veterans) were staged separately. Alexis Overbeek came over to meet me. We had been friends on FB for five years but had yet to meet in person. Today we did, She and her husband, Pierce, had come, at my request, to volunteer with Spokes of Hope. It was great meeting both of them.
Alexis and Barry
While a bagpiper played Amazing Grace while we were at the start line, I removed my helmet out of respect – and the riders took off. I was caught without a helmet. I put it on, tightened the strap, and found myself 100 places down in the roll-out. Without being too much of a jerk I passed 98 people and caught Cindi and Rena Smock at the front. The three of us set the pace until Cindi went ahead for some video. Then Rena and I led it out about 19-20 mph for the first five miles. We discussed we were probably burning too many matches and decided to let some others pull through.
At the start
It was another 15 miles to Rest 1. I just sat in and was pretty much amazed that it seemed the entire ride stayed together. That wasn’t completely the case as a shorter route had broken off but we were a controlled group to Rest 1.
Cindi Hart with instructions to newbies – “Eat more bacon”
It was there I would get – bacon. This is the Bacon and Smoothie Century. In fact, Pierce was dishing it out and overloaded (overdosed) me on bacon. Never thought I could eat too much bacon until today.
Can one eat too much bacon? Yes, yes one can. Pierce loading up the bacon.
We rolled out of Rest 1 pretty much as a group. I sat further back and the yo-yo-ing got pretty bad, especially when turns were involved. It was constant accelerating to catch up after each turn. Eventually, perhaps halfway to Rest 2, I let my group go.
Cancer Warriors
Now solo, I dropped back, got passed by a small group then two Spokes of Hope riders went by. Rena said “grab a wheel” and I did. In short order, we caught the small group. Then we started a true rotating pace line which was the best riding of the day. Rena and Tim Wozniak seemed to have organized the line and it was some of the best riding I did all year.
Paceline
With one solo rider ahead of us, we almost caught him two or three times. There must be something about the predator-prey instinct that cyclists have not to be caught even when it benefits them. When he was 100 meters up the road I said I was going to catch him and have him join us. I took off, caught him in no time, and told him he would be better off to soft-pedal and join us. He did. And we would have been better off too although in less than five minutes we were at Rest 2.
Rest stop
The sky turned black. Ken looked at his radar app and said we would get wet but no thunder or lightning. Ken would be wrong. We left out of the stop, had an overpass to cross (an Indiana hill) and I had the usual lactic acid after a stop. One group went ahead and I joined the second. We rode. We had probably five women and five men, all about equal ability.
Ken Hart assuring us we won’t get wet
Up ahead was a big dog and he (or she) did not want us on the road. It came at us in the opposite direction, misjudged our speed but then did a U-turn. He (or she) was fast. With people yelling I reached for my water bottle. I squirted him (or her) in the face and he (or she) backed off. I heard a woman say,’ “Wow, he just squirted him away.”
Rain pouring down
But then the rain came. It was gradual. At first, it was light and was a cooling rain. I thought we could ride like this all day. But then it was harder. Then thunder. Then lightning. We pulled into Rest 3 at MP 50 and the winds picked up. We helped move the pop up tents so they didn’t get destroyed or blown away.
Getting directions back to start (Pierce and Alexis)
We talked about cutting it short. We were given directions but when we left one rider thought we were finishing the route. And it felt like we were as we were following markings on the road. There was still thunder and lightning and I decided I would drop off the group and find my way on my own. I did not want to ride in a storm.
Cindi Hart with inspirational words
I dropped back, fiddled with Garmin’s Back to Start feature and it looked like we were headed back the right way. Except I had let the group go up the road. No worries. Today would be the day that I went over 60,000 miles cancer-free. I was happy being by myself for a bit.
Ken Hart welcoming riders
I got back to Lebanon, in the rain. I stopped at the bell for cancer survivors to ring. I rang. No response. But I didn’t expect any. The 100-mile ride became a 100 km ride. Spokes of Hope had closed the course due to the weather. It was a prudent and safe thing to do.
Lebanon, Ind.
I saw old friends, in the case of Alexis, met a friend, finally, for the first time, and went over 60,000 miles. It was a good day despite the rain.
This was simple enough. I came to Piqua to rid myself of ghosts. Or demons.
Great Miami River Trail, Piqua
I woke up here in May 2018. I had no clue I was in Ohio. At that time I was riding on the Great Miami River Trail. Retired Piqua police officer, Paul Sullenberger, found me unconscious and called 911.
Great Miami River Trail, Piqua
I came back today to ride with Paul. I parked by the mall in Piqua and rode towards Troy. It was surreal going through the area where I crashed. I don’t remember the area but, strangely, I could feel it.
The Atomic City, Piqua
Going south I made it through the crash area. I turned around in Troy and met a young woman named Kristy (sp?). She rode with me back to Piqua. Although she’s from Troy she had never been there (on her bike) and I showed her the trail which she hadn’t seen before.
An area similar to where I was found
We rode back to Troy and she went home as I went back to Piqua to Buffalo Wings and Rings for lunch. Paul was working a funeral and we would meet at 1:00 p.m.
Between Troy and Piqua, over the Great Miami River
At 1:00 we met in front of the library and rolled through town. We took Lockington Road to Lockington. As Paul turned on Kirkwood Road, I had him turn around so I could show him the Lockington I knew from 50 years ago.
Paul Sullenberger riding through Piqua
After the very quick tour, we headed north towards Sidney. Not all the way, just some country roads which made for a nice tour of southern Shelby County.
Paul Sullenberger, Barry Sherry
Back to the restaurant where I parked. Paul showed me the display on the pole which honors his family that served in the military. We had a good ride and it was nice to meet and thank the man for which I had no memory. (I heard a voice but did not remember him – or the EMTs.)
Friday was check-in. I biked the four miles between my hotel and the check-in site and there was informed that Saturday’s route would be changed. We were told that because of the heat that the ride would conclude at the lunch stop at Camp Kanesatake. From there the riders and their bikes would be transported to Penn State.
Ugh.
Start at Hollidaysburg High School
I ride in heat. I live in Virginia. I rode in Texas. Bring it on! I was very disappointed. This route change would also impact which bike I rode. I had my Trek Pilot (2006) with me and decided that would be a better choice than my Domane (2014) if it was going in a truck.
Rest Stop One
On Saturday I arrived at Hollidaysburg Senior High School and went looking for the write-on bibs. This is very important to me to be able to write and wear “I Ride For my Daughter.” For the second time in three years, there were none to be had. This was more disappointing than the route change.
Martinsburg, Pa.
We rolled out at 7:00 a.m. We largely stayed in a group. I missed my friends from Rooster Racing where we were comfortable riding in twos closely following the wheel in front of us. This group was very sketchy. There were riders in the “left lane” basically hugging the double yellow line. One had to pass into oncoming traffic or pass on the right. But the kicker was a woman (Bib 111) who while descending in a group sat on her top tube, in the Super Tuck position. This is very unsafe and I immediately backed way off then passed her never to see her again.
Lock (without an E) Mountain Road
I fell in with three brothers from Pittsburgh. We stayed together until the Ritchey’s Dairy rest stop (MP 17) and that was it working with other riders for the weekend. It was solo the next 133 miles. (They were good riders. I just didn’t impose myself waiting to ride with them after the first rest stop.)
Williamsburg, Pa.
In Martinsburg, I turned back to take a photo of a mural on a building. I figured if we were stopping short I would take my time. Heck, I might even be last to the lunch stop. Once on the road, I saw Lock Mountain Road. I turned and decided to ride up the road. But it went nowhere. Well, it went somewhere but not where I expected. I checked Maps on my phone and was very confused. And when confused just turn around. Only later did I figure out I wanted Locke Mountain Road. That damn E. Still I got some bonus miles.
Lunch stop with finishing arch in the background
Maybe the cool kids (or fast ones) were all in front of me. I was not passed from Williamsburg to the lunch stop. At lunch, I saw Bryan Caporuscio from Spokes N Skis. I asked him what the real deal was as I had seen some riders continue on. He said one could ride unsupported which I decided to do. A volunteer recorded my number and I set off.
Buses at Camp Kanesatake
I had been talking to two men and a woman. They took off about a minute before me but as I rode I could see them up the road. I figured I’d pass them but saw they dropped the woman. I think she was the wife of one. Ouch. I passed her too. After a few miles, I had the thought that we were riding unsupported and no one should ride alone. Later I did learn there was a skeleton crew of support still on the road.. I turned back until I caught her and told her we were unsupported and no one should ride alone. Except at that moment, the rear derailleur cable broke. I was stuck in my biggest gear.
Up the road from Camp Kanesatake
I started to pedal away from her and saw her two friends were waiting for her. I would never see them again. Riding became alternating standing and sitting. I felt I was stronger and faster because I had to use a bigger gear, that is, I didn’t have any bailout low gears. It would also tire me out.
The Famous Cookie Stop
The famous Cookie Stop was still in place although we were told it wouldn’t be. One HAM radio operator offered to call a SAG but I said I would soldier on. The hills ahead were rolling but I would have been out of luck on the hills of U.S. Rte. 22. I pushed the gear as hard as I could but had to walk right out of the rest stop and on Airport Road. I was sure I would be swept up (passed) by other riders but never was. I am thinking my speed was up while I was pedaling. Or maybe everyone else was suffering.
The warning was late in the day, 3:15 p.m. When I finished it was 84°.
Arriving Penn State I went right to the Spokes N Skis repair tent. Troy told me he had passed me and thought “that guy doesn’t know how to ride a bike – he is in much too big of gear.” Then he said, “Now it makes sense.” A $4 cable repair and I was fixed and ready for Sunday.
Beaver Stadium, PSU
Dinner featured two young mothers with MS. Jennifer (sorry I didn’t get your last name) spoke about what it was to be living with MS. Diane Kramer, a nurse from State College, spoke about how Bike MS makes a difference. She gets treatment at the MS Center at Johns Hopkins and she stated that 15 years earlier her doctor’s medical education was paid for by the National MS Society. We make a difference.
Diane Kramer (Source: Diane Kramer’s Facebook)
Oh boy. At 3:45 a.m. an alarm went off in the building. We were all required to go outside until it was cleared, about 30 minutes later. It was a short night. After breakfast, I got my bike from the storage room. At 6:55 I wondered why there were only 5-10 riders in line waiting for the start. Then I saw volunteers telling riders to go anytime.
With a second day of heat and humidity, starting the ride early made perfect sense. Unfortunately, if that was communicated it did not get to me. I would have rolled out at 4:15 a.m., right after the fire alarm.
Start in State College – Where is Everybody?
The organization said there would be buses at Camp Kanesatake as well as lunch. The problem was this was less than 30 miles into the ride and arriving before 9:00 a.m., I imagine they did not find many people eating lunch. I did have some ice cream, served by the Huntington County Dairy Princess(es).
Diary Princess(es)
It was a day to ride (and not be on a bus). It got hotter as the day progressed but the stops were staged appropriately. My only response to the heat would have been to put a water-only stop in between each rest stop. That is why I am not an event director.
There’s a ride out west which bills itself as “America’s Most Beautiful Bike Ride.” It circumvents Lake Tahoe in California and Nevada and it sure is beautiful. Maybe the title is a little presumptuous but it surely is in the top ten of beautiful rides in the U.S.
Arth-Goldau. Cog Railway
Today I cast my vote for my most beautiful ride in the world. I would not have found it without Ben. I learned a lot about trains and bikes in Switzerland today. Ben and I (but mostly Ben) thought we had a plan but there were many moving parts. And not all went so well. We left Ben’s house at 6:40 a.m. and walked to the train station in Sissach.
Airola, Switzerland
When the train for Zürich came we tried to be aligned with the car that takes bikes. We weren’t. Ben spotted it and we rushed with two bikes, a bike case, and two suitcases. And barely made it.
Airola, Switzerland
Once on board, it was a relaxing train ride to the Zürich Main Station. There we found the DHL luggage drop-off, mainly because I had used it before but had no idea when, how, or why. The cost for day storage was 12 CHF per bag. I loaded both my two extra bags into the empty bike case to make it one bag instead of three. This is beating the system.
Airola, Switzerland Rolling through town and already climbing
Ben had tried yesterday to make a reservation for our bikes for the train out of Zürich and could not. He assumed the app or website was not working properly but it may have been because they were sold out of bike reservations. But it didn’t display that way.
Tremola Road
In Zürich, we rushed over to the track and Ben asked a conductor about getting our bikes on the train. She told him he needed a bike reservation and there were none available. Ben said he had been trying but their app wasn’t working. After some back and forth she told him to see the conductor at the end of the train. (The exchange was not this pleasant though.)
Now the end of this train seemingly was 200 meters away – at least. Ben was running to reach the conductor. I was in flip-flops and couldn’t run without them falling off. I got on my bike and rode down the platform. I hope that was OK.
Water water everywhere. But no fountains on Tremola Road.
The conductor took our bikes and put them in a freight car on the train. We took a seat and the conductor came by at which time we paid 5 CHF for the “reservation” which we did not have. The cost of a bike pass was 20 CHF so now I was in for 25 CHF to be able to take my bike on a train. I had paid 30 CHF for a companion pass to be with Ben.
St. Gotthard Pass CREDIT: Thomson Bike Tours, Weekly Newsletter, 12 Jun 2020
We had to transfer, somewhere, I was just along for the ride. Ben said to disembark and we got off and then transferred to another train. This train to Airolo only required that bikes be hung on one of the two hooks in each car. The train came into the station and we looked for a car with room for our bikes. As the cars went by the bike hooks were all full. We went to the last car as did four other cyclists and neatly put six bikes in a space for two.
Once the train started rolling we felt safe. But Ben mentioned that if they saw the bikes they could put us off at the next stop, which was a couple of stops short of our destination. Two conductors came by. I could not hear or at least understand what they were saying. Ben said they laughed at all the bikes and said it wasn’t the record – they once had 47. Or maybe we have 47 on this train.
Tremola Road
Some of the riders on the train were road cyclists headed to see the Tour de Suisse, as we were. Some were enjoying a beautiful summer day to go mountain biking. But there were lots of cyclists on the train whether they be of the slick tire or knobby tire variety.
We exited at Airolo, which is in the Italian-speaking portion of Switzerland. I met a couple who saw the cookie decal on my bike. He asked me if that was a Phil Gaimon cookie. Who knew someone in Switzerland would know about the cookies? It turns out that the young man was from Switzerland but has ridden Mount Palomar and Mount Baldy in Southern California, as I have. His friend, or girlfriend, was from Russia.
Airolo, Switzerland. Young Swiss man with his Russian girlfriend.
We did not have water in our bottles and would make a critical mistake. Seemingly water is free (and good) everywhere in Switzerland. We found a fountain in town but it was turned off. We found a second fountain and it too was off. What was up with that? We began the climb with no water.
Turning onto Tremola Road we faced a stretch of cobblestones. They were beautiful in design but require, of course, more effort. I had read about this climb once and thought there was 1-2 km of stone. Boy was I wrong. It was cobbled for all 14 km (9 miles) of the climb.
I had gotten sick midweek in Luxembourg and it was hanging on me. I was sick. My legs may have been dead from all the work too. I had nothing. Perhaps the answer would be revealed later.
We may have been 10 km in when I spotted a bathtub in a pasture with a pipe over it and cold running water. I asked Ben if we could drink the water coming out of the pipe and he said sure. We filled out bottles and it was good. The cows agreed.
At the summit
Near the summit is a four-kilometer (2.5 miles) stretch of 24 hairpin turns (or switchbacks). Some riders were riding in the gutter, a paved concrete section that was smoother than cobbles, but when I tried it I found I was too tired to hold a straight line. I was afraid I would hit the curb and go down. I moved back to the cobbles.
At the summit, we found a restaurant. Many people were here, not just cyclists, although there were plenty of them too. I had told Ben that when I reach the top I only wanted a Coke. Two Cokes, actually. But I saw some kids eating pasta with a meat sauce and it looked delicious. I ordered it and it was. I would have eaten a local bratwurst too except there was too long of a line.
Pasta at the top
Ben was on his phone checking train schedules and the progress of the last stage of the Tour (actually, it had not yet started so we were checking estimated times of arrival). These races publish an estimated time, a fastest expected time, and the slowest expected time.
We decided we would follow the route and ride to Hospental where the course turned left, sharply. From there we could go right (or straight) to catch our train without being on course. But it would be tight to make the train depending on how fast the Tour de Suisse was riding.
I could not miss the train. My suitcase was in my bike bag. I was sick. I wanted to be on the first flight to the U.S. tomorrow. If I missed it I might be able to go to the hotel with my bike and the clothes on my back. Tomorrow I would have to go back to the main station and retrieve my stuff then get back to the airport, where I was staying, in time for my flight. The thought of managing this was blowing my mind.
We finished eating and on the initial descent, I had hit 75 kpm (47 mph). Had I been riding and displaying miles I would have hit 50 mph. Or tried. But my mind and computer display were in kilometers. In Hospental we had found our position on the corner and waited for the Tour de Suisse to come by. After an hour, it did, with Hugh Carthy (EF-Education First) with solo breakaway and a 2:00 lead which he would hold to the end.
It was here that my bike was in the wrong gear to start, having descended in a 50:11. I decided to change gears by hand cranking the bike which is when I saw it. When I spun the wheel it went a few revolutions then stopped. The brake pad had been rubbing on the wheel. No wonder it was so hard climbing. All the jostling of bikes probably caused it but I should have checked it in Airolo.
As soon as part of the peloton had come through, we planned our escape. Ben said it would be 32 km and we had one hour. We would have to average 20 mph and would have no time for stops. That would normally be a very tough ask but we also knew the road went downhill.
However, we did not plan for a headwind – a vicious headwind. Ben did better on the climb, much better, than me but was having a problem with the wind. I took the lead most of the way and let him sit in my draft.
We went through Andermatt, a beautiful mountain town. And then for the next 20 km, the scenery just would not stop. Unfortunately, neither could I. We didn’t have time.
We were riding through Schöllenen Grorge. We saw a white water river (upper Reuss) with the glacier turquoise water blasting down through small canyons under stone arch bridges. The scenery was breathtaking. But we knew not to stop, and besides, by the time we saw the perfect place we were already 200 meters past it and would have to turn around.
Devil’s Bridge
We kept the speed up and Ben made one final check – seven km to go (4.2 miles). And we had 20 minutes. I knew an easy day I could do those in 16 minutes. Of course, we would have to get to the station and find the right track. I rattled off each K-to-go and we pulled in with 10 minutes to spare.
Old train in Wassen
Ben was worried about this train as it might be full of cyclists from earlier stops. If we missed it we would miss getting my luggage from the train station. It was a train where no reservation was needed or apparently accepted. Just first-come, first-served. Look for empty bike hooks, and we guessed right for the car.
Ben and Barry at the Airport
What a day. It was my most beautiful day on a bike. I’ve never seen anything like that from Andermatt to Wassen. And going up, wasn’t as scenic but it was epic – a 14 km climb on cobblestones. Wow!
EPILOGUE – June 25, 2019. I was at the doctor’s office and had a very bad bronchial infection. She examined me and asked if I was exhausted. I pulled out my phone and showed her Tremola Road.
“Well, two days ago I biked up this 9-mile cobblestone road in Switzerland. Then I went 24 hours without sleep.”
She replied, “I take that as a yes.”
Of the great climbs I have done, many or all call for a do-ever. But none more than this one. I was sick and weak the day I climbed this and want to go back healthy. It’s more than Strava times. The scenery from Hospental to Andermatt is beyond description. I want to ride it without worrying about a train to catch.
Our last day, and our biggest day. The preparation for this ride started on Wednesday at our team meeting. Fränk Schleck stated that he was going to offer two rides: The planned 155 km four-country ride and a shorter (100 km) ride that would only be able to take in three countries.
Sign of the roosters
To do a second ride, he would offer a guide, probably Glen Leven who is a mechanic for Trek-Segafredo, but no other support, i.e., no motorbikes. But he would need at least three volunteers.
Barry and Jens
Fränk asked us to think about what we were ready for after a week of riding. Two riders were consistently sagged throughout the week when we had time limits. I think Fränk was looking at those two as “volunteers.”
Glen Leven (and Martine Schleck in the shadows)
Even after the rest day, I wasn’t feeling much better. I was better but I wasn’t much better. The decision time was last night at the team meeting. I would love to go long and say I did a four-country ride but my body was telling me to volunteer for the shorter group. And I came to terms with that.
Jens Voigt
But then…
Fränk Schleck, Stephanie Voigt, Jens Voigt
In walked Jens Voigt to our team meeting. “Shut up legs.” And Jens is going to ride with the long group. That conflicted me as I wanted to ride with Jens but wasn’t sure I could keep with the group. But that option was quickly off the table. Fränk announced there would only be one ride. Everyone would start but if he felt someone was holding back the team he would tell them to get in the van, no arguing, no discussion. Having that decision out of my hand, I had to go long.
Jens Voigt – surprise guest at our Thursday meeting
We rolled out of Mondorf-les-Bains and a gap quickly developed back to the two riders. After 20 km (12 miles) just outside of Peppange we stopped as Fränk had gone back to help pace them. When they reached our group they stopped and got in the van.
My goal today was to finish. My strategy was simple. I thought I could stay with Jambo as we had ridden together quite a bit this week. We could form a grupetto of two if we had to as Fränk would not force Jambo, one of the organizers, off the course. But I didn’t have to resort to such a strategy.
Our first border was Belgium. We stopped at a non-descript border next to a farmhouse. The occupants were not thrilled we were there. They opened the door and their house smelled like a thousand ashtrays.
Belgium border
We rolled through a very scenic wooded section in Belgium, but only for 6.5 km (4 miles) and crossed back into Luxembourg. On another wooded scenic road, Fränk had us go from riding side by side (in twos) to one long paceline. And I was on Jens Voigt’s wheel. The speed ramped up as we kept this going for 10 km or more.
Luxembourg-Belgium border
We stayed in Luxembourg and crossed the country, west to east, traveling 64 km (40 miles). We crossed the Moselle River at Wormeldange to enter Germany and pulled over just inside the border. Next to the river in Germany was a bike trail with lost of users on this Friday afternoon. As I was taking a photo a German man (or maybe a Luxembourger on the wrong side of the river) started speaking to me in German. I think. When he saw I didn’t comprehend he asked, “what language?” He switched to English.
“But why no German?”, he asked. “You’re wearing the Luxembourg colors. I told him we were riding with Fränk Schleck. And Jens Voigt.
Source: Dan McDonough (Facebook, 22 Jun 2019) Sitting: Barry Sherry – Keeling: Jambo (Jim Ray) Crouched: Paul Lewandowsky L-R: Carl, Frank, xxx, Dac Mcd, Scott Ireland, Gusty, Bryan Huneycutt, Will Swetnam, Jens Voigt, Margaret O’Rourke, Svetlana Martynova, Julie Trimble, Bob Pane, Scott Hesford
“Jens Vote?”, he exclaimed. I told him to come over and meet them. He said no and kept riding.
Moselle River from German side
We got on the bike path and hammered it for 19 km (12 miles). As we reached France, we stopped and one of our sagged riders joined us for the final push to home. Fränk made sure we rode at the pace of the slowest rider and we would finish the week riding together.
Newly AUTOGRAPHED phone case (by Jens Voigt)
As for me, I pushed through and maybe I shouldn’t have. But I had to, no? I was fearful all day that Fränk would say “you’re holding us back,” and secretly wished he did, but he never came my way. Jens only passed me going up one climb because he was ahead of me on all the others. As crappy as I felt, I never was last on a climb or even second to last.
Frank’s bike
It was a challenging day. I was just hanging on at times. I was breaking the ride into five-mile segments, just trying to get to the next one. There were times I wanted to cry out “I’m done.” But I kept going. And ultimately, I ended the day with the satisfaction of completing the day, and the week, that I set out to do. At the team meeting, I was recognized for powering through and never quitting.
We must be in France
What a week it was. Riding with the Brothers Schleck and Jens Voigt. Separate days in Holland, Luxembourg, France, and Germany and a four-country ride that included Belgium.
This was a rest day so we would only ride 28 miles. Tell that to your friends who can’t imagine riding 28 miles – on our rest day that’s what we did. And it was easy.
Fränk Schleck, Barry Sherry, Andy Schleck
Fränk Schleck met us in the morning at the bike room at the hotel. Once we were ready, his brother, Andy, the 2010 Tour de France winner, showed up to lead the ride. Like Fränk, he also lives in Mondorf-les-Bains. Can’t lead the ride? Have your little brother, the TdF champion, fill in.
I did not plan on being at the front of our group as we rolled out from Mondorf but found myself there with Andy Schleck. I was at the front for two kilometers until I moved over to give someone else a chance to chat.
Andy asked me how I liked Luxembourg. I loved it I told him and that Frank undersells it. He agreed. It is a beautiful country. Andy asked where I was from and then added he gets to the States a lot, mostly California.
A TdF champion serving espresso. Jambo on the left.
We rolled to his bike shop. It is very clean (Frank says “too clean”). There is a cafe in the back and the former TdF champion was making and serving espresso for those who wanted some.
The shop could have been any American bike shop. That is any clean American bike shop. Andy is a Trek dealer, along with other brands. Shimano, Camelbak, and Bontrager products are on the shelves as are Cliff Bars and Power Bars.
But there is one difference. There is a lot of memorabilia from Andy’s career and also from some of his teammates.
I have a lion
We had decided as a group to add another 4 km, uphill, to our ride. The Luxembourg American Cemetery was only 2.4 miles away. It was very moving. General George S. Patton is buried here. We presumed to be buried with his troops.
Only 39% of the original soldiers that were buried here remain. The other 61% have been repatriated and are buried on American soil in the U.S. And here the rain came, but only for a short time.
When we left we were in rain but by the time we got back to Andy’s shop (retracing our route) it was dry. Although it looked like we would be in rain for a while, this was the only time we were in rain and it lasted no more than 10 minutes, It was a very moving and very meaningful day.
EDIT/EPILOGUE – This post was originally titled “Team Andy” because when you get to ride with a Tour de France winner (2010), why not? But from a week of riding in Luxembourg and four other countries, our visit to the Luxembourg American Cemetery was among my best memories. After moving hosting for this site and losing some post which had to be restored manually, the name Luxembourg American Cemetery just resonated. Almost forgot that I rode with a Tour de France champion that day. Sorry Andy. 🙂
