Currituck-Knotts Island

CURRITUCK, NORTH CAROLINA

Every ride needs a ferry. And this could be a near-epic ride. A medium-distance ride (80km/50mi) and a 40-minute ferry ride. 

Ferry at Currituck, N.C.

Using the tools in RideWithGPS I mapped out a ride between the two ferry terminals of the Currituck-Knotts Island Ferry. I choose a couple of points on the map and RideWithGPS then mapped out the route. It usually avoids major roads, and indeed, instead of riding on NC Hwy 168 it routed me over the road at Moyock and brought me back to 168 at Northwest for about 1/2 mile which was unavoidable. 

MacKay Island Wildlife Refuge – Marsh Causeway

The schedule was my main planning point. The ferry runs every two hours and one would not want to just miss a ferry and wait for 90 minutes or more for the next one.

Ferry arriving Knotts Island

I mapped my ride from Currituck to Knotts Island. This was in a clockwise direction and had nothing to do with prevailing winds but was solely based on wanting to finish with a ferry ride. Although it was negligible today it would make sense to check winds to see if one could catch a tailwind towards the end of the ride.

Ferry at Currituck, 8:33 a.m.

From Knotts Island my feasible choices for meeting the ferry would be 10:30, 12:30, or 2:30. The only real workable time was 12:30 so I planned for a 9:00 departure and estimated that I would arrive at the Knotts Island ferry shortly after noon. 

MacKay Island Wildlife Refuge

I was unable to determine the parking situation at the ferry. I looked for parks nearby where I could start my ride but when I arrived I pulled into the ferry administration building at Currituck. There was a small parking lot behind the building with a sign warning against overnight parking. I read that to be that daytime parking was okay so I parked. 

Parking behind the admin building at the ferry

Some cars were coming off the ferry at 8:30. This must have been the 7:30 departure from Knotts Island and was running late. I thought that if they were departing soon it would behoove me to take the ferry first thing and ride my route counter-clockwise. That way I would have no downtime waiting for the ferry or angst in case I was running late. But a quick check of the sign and I saw the next departure was at 9:30. I rode my originally planned route. 

Actually, this is in Virginia Beach

Almost immediately I was on NC Rte 168 but only for half a mile. Then I turned onto secondary roads. The back roads were great except for a major hiccup. Gravel. 

Gravel. Not my friend.

RideWithGPS uses Google Maps and Google Maps showed the route as 100% paved. It wasn’t. I came to Cooper Garret Road. I stopped. It was gravel. And it wasn’t packed dirt. It was heavy gravel with a sand base. 

Virginia state line (notice the pavement difference). But no welcome to Virginia sign.
But there is a Welcome to Virginia Beach sign.

I opened up Apple Maps to see if there was an easy alternative. I didn’t see one. I slowly trudged through the gravel knowing it was a little more than two miles until South Mills Road and hoped that it was paved. 

Bridge on Pungo Ferry Road, Virginia Beach. (Hillclimb)

I was on my Trek Pilot with skinny tires. The 25 mm tires cut through the sand and made controlling the bike difficult. I was afraid I might have a flat. And I was losing the time that was necessary to make the ferry on time at Knotts Island. 

North Landing River, Virginia Beach (Photo from bridge on Pungo Ferry Road)

I got through the gravel and back to paved roads. Barring any mechanicals or more road surface surprises I calculated that I should arrive at Knotts Island about 12:05 – 25 minutes to spare. Well, I forgot about the wind. 

Va. Hwy 168 – Battlefield Blvd, Chesapeake, Va.
(Only on this road for 1/2 mile)

There were strong winds blowing and if they were headwinds I could be in trouble. But they were mostly cross winds headed to Knotts Island with a tailwind the final 10 miles. 

Ferry Schedule, Knotts Island

I pulled into the waiting area for the ferry at 12:00 pm. Slowed by gravel and then pulling over three times for photos, I still had 30 minutes to spare. 

Knotts Island

The ferry is free. It departed at 12:30 and made the crossing in 38 minutes. There was an RV, two cars, three motorcycles, and me on the boat. 

Onboard the ferry

I doubt that I will ever do this loop again but I would love to. If anyone reads this and wants to ride it I’d turn right at the tracks in Moyock (before the tracks) onto Oak Street. Go three blocks to the end at Shingle Landing Road. Cross the highway and it becomes Camellia Drive. Follow that to South Mills Road and that will avoid that gravel. Avoid the gravel


North Carolina border sign – Knotts Island

I rode this on a Tuesday morning in October. There was virtually no traffic on Hwy 168. On a Saturday morning, the departing traffic from OBX would be horrible and must be avoided. While the website seems to indicate the ferry runs daily, it must be noted that the sign on the schedule is for a weekday schedule. When we stopped on a Saturday there was a sign indicating that it was closed for the day. High winds were not a problem so before I would do this again I would double-check to make sure the ferry was operating. It may not operate on weekends.



ROAD SURFACE:
TRAFFIC DENSITY: 2 (Light)
AGGRESSIVENESS: 1.5

Listen to the Whoop

HARRISONBURG, VIRGINIA

Source: Bruce Buckley Photography

Travel seems to affect me more than a hard effort on a bike. In the past three days, I’ve been to Altoona, Somerset, New Brighton (all Pa.), and now Harrisonburg, Va. When I arrived yesterday it was in the middle of Tropical Storm Ophelia. I had ridden daily since returning from Europe on July 4, a streak of 81 consecutive days. But yesterday was a washout and I viewed that as good. My body would rest.

Whoop band

The weather was unsettled as to whether the remnants of Ophelia would still be giving us rain in the morning. I had looked forward to my daughter, son-in-law, and granddaughters to be on course on U.S. 33 to cheer me on. As for the latter, the rain convinced them not to come and for the former, it was gray but mostly dry.

Ready for Action

My Whoop Band provides biometrics and I looked at my data. My overnight recovery was at 24%. The suggestion was to stay in bed for the day. (Not really – but to rest and not take on any strain.) Whoop did not know that I planned to ride 80 miles including two huge mountain passes.

Robert Warren Hess and Barry

It was cool, 57℉, plus a chance of rain. No kids on the mountain climbs to cheer for me and the thought of riding on U.S. 33 wasn’t appealing. My Whoop said not to push the strain. I decided that I would ride with Robert Warren Hess, the founder of the Prostate Cancer Awareness Project.

Riders having fun

Robert and I rode near the back as he was riding the shortest route available, 36 miles. I would ride the Metric Century, some 62 miles. That’s not a lot different than the original 78 miles that I planned to ride but a significant difference in climbing.

On the loop

Robert and I rode and caught a couple from Greenville, S.C. The wife was telling me that her husband wanted to ride the Metric Century but would ride with her on the Valley View Challenge, the 36-mile route. I suggested to her that her husband could ride the Metric while she and Robert stayed together for the Valley View Challenge but he decided he would stay with his wife.

Rest Stop

After Robert and I rolled out of the rest stop we came to a split. The Metric route included a 27-mile loop back to the rest stop. I wished him well when a woman came flying up between us. She asked which way we were going and I replied “Whatever direction you are.” That wasn’t creeping on her, it was acknowledging that if she went straight Robert would ride with her and if she went right I would ride with her. She went right.

Food at the rest stop

Robert and I were last on course for these two routes that didn’t go over the mountain. As the founder of the PCAP, he spends time talking with every rider at the rest stop. And I also spent time meeting some Trek Travel Guides for the Shenandoah Valley Gravel Bike Tour. So we were quite surprised someone came up from behind us.

Trek Travel

Wilma started at 8:30 and missed our roll-out at 8:00. Her husband was also riding but he opted for the 36-mile route. I sensed she wanted to beat him, i.e., ride 62 miles faster than he could ride 36 miles although she never said that.

Bridge in Stokesville

We rolled together back to the rest stop where we had caught a number of the Metric riders. Although they left while we were still at the stop, I told Wilma that we would soon start catching riders. And we did.

Stokesville (next to the bridge)

When we came to the sprint section I asked Wilma how her sprint was. She said not very good. I believe that today I could compete for age group winner in the sprint but at registration, I was told by a person handing out the chips that I didn’t need one. Indeed I would not be competing on Allegheny Mountain or Reddish Knob but this one I could have. But I had no timing chip.

Goats

I thought about how I would handle it and told Wilma to hold my wheel and I would try to tow her to a win. We went but I never was at 100% effort and frequently backed off so she could stay with me. And I still set a PR. I think that had I had a chip today I could have gotten it. Oh well, my bad for not pushing back on the chip issue before the ride. (Note to self: Strava winner today was 1:50 which will be my target next time.)

Lunch at the finish – from Hank’s

Wilma and I continued to catch and pass riders. We made a turn and up the road about 100 meters and saw a guy pedaling. She said, “There’s my husband.” And she blew by him. Not even a glance back or slowing down to ask him how his ride was going.

Trek Travel presentation for their group

On a climb on Swope Road, I caught an Amish horse and buggy. It had caught three cyclists that I knew I would be passing. But I did not want to pass the horse and buggy. Eventually, the driver saw a place where he could pass the cyclists and I followed. The horse took off up the hill and I followed, blowing past the cyclists. I matched the speed almost as if I was drafting the buggy. I wasn’t, I swear. The kids in the buggy would wave to me and I would wave back. What fun. Probably some of my Wenger cousins (at least 7th).

Wilma and a buggy

We avoided the rain. I listened to the Whoop. I had a companion for 100% of the ride to the split (Robert) and one from the split back to the finish (Wilma). For a day of rest, it was very enjoyable. Another great Alpine Loop Gran Fondo.

Crossing the low bridge

A SPECIAL FEAT – As Robert and I rode I told him about my decision to ride the Metric Century, adding that it would give me all five routes. Early on I rode the Alpine Century Loop with its gravel. I rode the Full Century on pavement. Minus the 25-mile loop, I’ve ridden the Shenandoah Mountain adventure. In 2015 I did the Gran Fondo but opted for the 36-mile ride so I could hurry to Richmond to see the UCI World Championships. And today I would ride the Metric. Robert told me that Jeremiah Bishop had told him that no one had ridden all their routes. And so I would complete that. I also told Erin Bishop that after my ride and she found it “interesting.” (My quotes)


Working on the Chain Gang

EASTON, MARYLAND

“That’s the sound of the men working on the chain gang”

The lyrics of the 1960 hit song by Sam Cooke reverberated in my head as we rolled down the road with me out in front with my nose in the wind. I have been on many group rides where a pace line is simply one person at the front and everyone else drafting. They may pull for 3-4 minutes or 10-12. And often it only ends because the group has to stop. And today looked like I might be that guy.

Rolling through Easton

I have often wanted to organize a “chain gang” pace line but the opportunity did not present itself with the exception of one brief time in Florida on a cancer charity ride. These are hard to organize because of the roads we ride or sometimes the composition or size of the group.

Rolling through Easton

The weather in Warrenton, Va. today scrubbed my plans to ride to see my grandson play baseball. It rained off and on all day in Warrenton for his games. I would not have enjoyed a 70-mile ride in the rain. But our local club had a field trip to Easton, Maryland, which is one of my favorite rides.

Rolling through Easton

Our leader was Michele who is known for starting rides promptly as advertised which I absolutely love. And she is known also for leading a ride, that is, riding at the very front. I had not responded that I was going to join the ride because it was a spur-of-the-moment decision made this morning when the weather was bad in Virginia but nice in Maryland. I arrived at 9:15 a.m. and Michele was surprised to see me. Heck, I was surprised to see me.

Rolling through Easton

I started my Wahoo bike computer and brought up my route for the Tilghman Island Metric which I have ridden multiple times. I love riding on St. Michael’s Island. I did not have the specific route they were riding because I didn’t need it although it would prove to be a little bit different.

Rolling through Easton

It was 9:40 a.m. when we rolled out, 10 minutes later than the group’s posted start time. I chided Michele about always being prompt and she told me she gave a grace period for a “field trip” ride. I chuckled. She made a couple of announcements as we were rolling with two groups and then said I would be leading her group. Just as we were starting to roll my Wahoo shut down. I told her that because of the downtime, my computer went to sleep so I’d catch them after a reboot. We’re all data geeks and I couldn’t roll out and miss one or two kilometers waiting for it to turn back on.

Rolling through Easton

They took off into Easton. I saw them make their first turn and they disappeared down a street. Once Wahoo “warmed up” and was ready to go I took off to catch them. It was a different route than I have taken in the past but I was confident I would find them. I did, bypassing them on a side street and then waiting for them at the next turn.

Rolling through Easton

Our route was farther north than the main road to Saint Michael’s I have always taken. We were on Glebe Road. It was better since it was rural and didn’t go past the Target and BJs shopping center on St. Michael’s Road. When I have ridden this loop my mileage was 60 miles so if one wanted 62.14 miles, a metric century, this extra addition would probably do it.

St. Michael’s, Md.

Michele was leading the group in a line and I rode up beside her. We rode double for a little bit and then single-file with me at the front. And we rode one group off the back. We waited for them at the next turn.

I was on the front to St. Michael’s when Michele called for a stop to wait for our second group on the road. We stopped but then decided we wouldn’t wait and try to ride as a large group even to our predefined split. Our group had eight riders and we went through a residential area of St. Michael’s and avoided the main street through town.

The end of Tilghman Island. Chesapeake Bay.

After going through St. Michael’s and back on the main road, Highway 33 or Tilghman Island Road, we had a wide shoulder. I had been doing almost all the pulling along with Michele. We had passengers. And I wanted to break it up.

In cycling, a chain gang is a group of cyclists in a close-knit formation of two parallel lines drafting behind the leader. The formation comes from the fact that it is harder to cycle at the front of a group than in the shelter of another rider. The rider behind enjoys the slipstream of the rider in front. The motion of the formation is such that the left line is always passing the right line.

Tilhman Island Country Store

Better than most groups we had settled into a double-pace line. Two people would take their turns pulling at the front, usually 3-5 minutes, and then they would peel off. This would work if it could be done safely. But we were on a shoulder next to a two-lane main road. The person on the left would have to move to their left which meant crossing the white lane and into the traffic lane on the highway itself. Ideally, the person on the right would peel off to the right and drift back but there was no room. So they too made their way to the left crossing in front of the pace line to the highway. This was not ideal.

Donkey Donut – Sprout Cafe

John and I were sitting on third wheel when one rider decided he was going to pass us and go up to the front. He passed in the center, very close to John, which was a very dangerous maneuver. Just as we avoided a mishap, a second guy followed him. Wow. This was a sketchy group. Or a ride with some sketchy riders. I wasn’t sure about a double pace line.

Michele had mentioned to me that I might want to try and teach a chain gang formation. And the opportunity was right. I told John that when he and I got to the front we would start a chain gang rotation. We did not stop to explain to others but started this while riding on the shoulder. I knew three of our riders, Michele, Sunny, and John. And I knew I could trust them. The other four guys I wasn’t sure about as I had not met them before. But we had to do something different than passing each other in the middle of a pace line. We would have to try this and see.

Oxford Ferry

It was our turn. We were rolling along at 18 mph. I told John to slow down a little (17 mph) and let me pass in front of him. I moved over and Sunny, who had been following me, moved up to take my place. I slowed down to 17 and told her to pass me at 18 mph. She did.

Oxford Ferry

In the back, we tried to instruct the last person on the right to move to the left. We knew we had varying degrees of experience. Some may have been ex-pros, who knows? But some also may have had very little group riding. A couple of guys got to the front and “attacked” to pass, ramping the speeds up to 21-22 mph. This, of course, was not the purpose of a steady line.

Call for the ferry

And we had a couple of guys that when they passed and moved to the right they kept their speed. Actually, they even increased their speed. John seemed to have been the victim of this tactic more than others. I picked the wheels I wanted to follow and it was my friends, Michel, John, and Sunny. They picked it up quickly.

Oxford Ferry
Credit: PWCC Facebook (Orange Pinarello)

John held 18 mph. When the rider in front of him moved to the right and kept it at 18 John kept it there too. He would hold his pace as long as it took for the right side to slow down to let him in. If they didn’t, they would be riding on the front and not rotating. The great thing about the chain gang is that it is self-correcting. As we rode the 11 miles towards Tilghman Island the pace line got better.

Onboard the ferry

We arrived at the draw bridge as the bells were going off. The bridge was opening. Seven of us hurried across the open grate segment while Sunny wasn’t sure if she would have to bunny-hop an opening in the bridge. She made it.

Tilghman’s Island

We rolled to Tilghman Island Country store and stopped. Most riders bought sandwiches. I wanted to roll on as I prefer to eat after a ride. Once everyone was fulfilled we rolled to the end of the island and turned around at Sharps Island Light. After crossing the draw bridge again, we formed our chain gang and rolled the 11 miles back to St. Michael’s. The time flies by while in a line like this.

We stopped at Sprout Cafe in St. Michaels for another snack. Another break. Then we went to the bike trail that bypassed the town. The main road had a narrower shoulder so we rode single file to Royal Oak Road towards the ferry. And while it was a country two-lane road, there were signs for bikes to ride single file. Ugh.

On the ferry

We arrived at the Oxford ferry at 1:30 and did not see it. There was a sign for bikes to go to the end of the pier to raise the call signal if the ferry was not there. Michele gave the ropes a tug and opened the sign board. It seemed to take forever but the ferry arrived at 1:45.

Scottish Highland Creamery

In Oxford, we went down to the Scottish Highland Creamery at the waterfront but it was closed. Although they opened a new storefront on Main (Morris) Street, we rolled past without stopping. Although I always want to stop there, with the stop at Tilghman’s Island and another in St. Michael’s, plus waiting 15 minutes more for the ferry, I was fine with rolling towards home.

We left Oxford and the road presented itself once again for a chain gang. Wide shoulders and little traffic. The last 10 miles flew past. The group dynamics really improved and everyone eventually got the hang of it. In all, we rode 32 of the 62 miles using a chain gang. It was one of the best group rides I have done in a while.


Maryland Cycling Classic

PARKTON, MARYLAND

This was the second year for the UCI race and I had to decide whether to volunteer or to go and be a spectator, a.k.a., fan boy. I chose the latter.

Tractor showing off on course

Last year I volunteered and it was chaotic. I’m still not sure if I went to the right location to be a course marshal. Communication to the volunteers was awful and I did not give them a second chance. This year I went as a fan.

5K to KOM

My location last year was on a corner at Prettyboy Dam Road and Falls Road and I found parking right beside the corner at Bushland Road. I drove back to the same spot.

KOM

I had mapped out an outer loop that would take me into Pennsylvania and an inner loop that would simply circumvent the Prettyboy Reservoir. I miscalculated the amount of time to drive to northern Baltimore County and did not leave myself enough time to ride the outer loop. That was okay. In a perfect world I was going to ride the longer route before the race went by and then the shorter one after the race passed.

My perfect artwork

When the course hit the Prettyboy loop they would pass by my location twice as they also would ride the inner loop twice. I thought that was the best place to be without being on a long steep climb.

The view on TV – I am standing on the left in what appears to be black

I left my car and rode one mile on Prettyboy Dam Road when I realized something was amiss. My radar wasn’t displaying on my Wahoo head unit. That was because I forgot to put it on my bike. I never ride without a helmet and rarely ride on the road without my radar light. I went back for it and started over.

Team EF Education First – EZ Post (in pink)

I then only had time to take the short loop. It is hilly and is used by the race to start to break it up. As I came upon an intersection at Beckleysville and Gunpowder Roads I saw the large MDOT trucks and wondered if there was a construction job nearby. Then it became apparent. The trucks were there to block road access and they were blocking me from going through. I told a Baltimore County cop that I needed to get to my car that was parked down at the reservoir and he waved me through.

I went up the KOM climb thinking all along at the Tour of Denmark they call it they KOH, or King of the Hill, because they don’t have mountains. Maryland does, but not in Baltimore County. You have to go to Western Maryland to Garrett and Frostburg to find mountains in Maryland. It was nice to see the people gathered here to cheer the riders for King of the Hill.

Second lap

I descended to the dam and entered the green zone. This was in conjunction with a feed zone and was where riders could discard their trash. But if they were taking on fresh bottle or food in a mussett, this is where once they have the items in their pockets or on their bikes, they discard these as well. A mussett would especially be a nice souvenir.

Toms liked it – that’s all that matters

The crowds were starting to assemble in the feed zone. But crowds here were nothing like in Europe. Maybe 50 or 100 people or so. Still, I wanted some place were I could be alone.

The hill coming out of the reservoir was perfect. I had carried some yellow chalk with me ans stopped to write T-O-M-S on the road. This was for Toms Skuijins, a Latvian rider and one of my favorite riders in the peloton.

Last year Toms was at the front of the breakaway when they went past. Today he was in the pack but would breakaway aftewards. He was in a solo break but caught and passed bu his teammate, Matthias Skjelmose, on his way to victory. Toms took 5th.


Mattias Skjelmose (Lidl-Trek) won in a dominant fashion the second edition of the Maryland Cycling Classic in Baltimore on Sunday. The Danish champion attacked from a five-rider front group inside of two laps to go and crossed the line with over two minutes on the chase group.

The first major selection in the tough race, made even more difficult by the hot temperatures, came with 65 miles of the 121 mile race to go as the field splintered leaving around 35 riders in the front. More aggressive racing led to a final group of six battling for the win on the first of four city circuits. The group also included Toms Skujiņš (Lidl-Trek), Hugo Houle (Israel-Premier Tech), Neilson Powless (EF Education-EasyPost) and Lucas Hamilton (Jayco-AlUla).

Using team numbers to their advantage, Skjelmose and Skujiņš launched multiple attacks until the Latvian managed to get free in the final 20 miles. Skjelmose waited for his moment to make his countermove when his teammate was reeled in and left everyone behind.

Powless launched his sprint with 200 meters to go to take second place, ahead of Houle. Hamilton finished fourth and Skujiņš, held on for fifth. (Source: CyclingNews.com)




NOTES: Forget sticks of chalk. They actually make a spray chalk. There are a number of roads around the reservoir that beg exploring on a bike. If I go back be sure to map these roads. And wear a potato costume for Toms.

Don’t Get Dead (MWARBH)

“Italy has its Mortirolo, mountain of death; 124 persons to date have died on Mount Washington. Overall steeper than the Angliru, windier than Mont Ventoux, deadlier than the mountain of death; this is why for cyclists, Mount Washington stands above all other climbs. It is not hard just because it is steep. It is also windy and cold enough to be dangerous.” — New York Cycle Club (2008)

PINKHAM NOTCH, NEW HAMPSHIRE

This was to be the year. My last year. And It probably was but for the wrong reason. This was to be my 10th time. Ten and done.

At check-in, I picked up my bib and was directed where to get a sticker to add to it. I added “10 Timer.” (Upon reflection, maybe I was a 9-Timer waiting to be a 10-timer. Hmmm.)

I wonder if I was supposed to put a 9 on here?

The weather forecast did not look good. The morning window was the best followed by deteriorating conditions over the next 24-36 hours.

When I left the hotel it was looking good. It was 30℉ (-2℃) at the summit with 37 mph winds (60 kph) and foggy. The race was on.

I didn’t fuel properly last night and decided to go to the McDonalds in North Conway for their hotcakes. I pulled in a 6:15 a.m. and they told me they had just started their grill. Things move at a different pace here. I saw a Dunkin Donuts and went in and got a breakfast sandwich. It would have to do.

Dunkin, North Conway, N.H.

Last year we had given a ride down to a rider named Bruce from Indiana. We agreed to meet this year and share a ride down in my car. I met him in the parking lot and we got my car ready for his wife to drive to the summit. And we went out on the road to warm up.

Bruce

It was raining lightly and I was contemplating what to wear for the actual hill climb. On the road, I had a wind jacket but wasn’t sure if that was what I would take or wear to the summit. At 8:10 a.m. we got back. I was watching the riders in the first group start to assemble and Bruce made his way to the Top Notch group.

The event director made some announcements beginning with thanking the sponsors of this hillclimb. But before she got to the major announcement, the only announcement that mattered, I could see that Katie, driving my car, made a U-turn just beyond the toll booth. Those cars had been turned around.

And then the director broke the news. The race was canceled.

Nothing to see here. You all can just go home.

There is no second-guessing here. Other events that we do are “rain or shine” events. But this one is different. These can be “live or die” events. The weather can be extreme at any time. Eight days earlier, a 21-year-old hiker from Pennsylvania, died on this mountain. Rule number one of cycling is Don’t Get Dead.

But I wasn’t “feeling it.” I think back to my first MWARBH. It was 2007, “07/07/07” to be exact, but it was canceled due to weather. So in 2008 and not in 2007, my big question was if I could do it. And I did. And then in 2009 thru 2014 it was never if I could make it but merely how much I would suffer. (Answer: A lot.)

After a seven-year break, I came back in 2021 and again last year. And it still was a question of how much suffering. But this year I have begun to think if I could do it. I’m not sure why. But I was hoping during the night that the race might be canceled. And then when it wasn’t I got my game face on and was ready to attack the mountain.

But it all ended abruptly. Canceled. And that was it.

Bruce asked what I planned to do next. I told him my backup plan had always been to ride Hurricane Mountain Road. He told me he would like to join me.

Hurricane Mountain Road, Intervale, NH

Hurricane Mountain Road is a beast. It lacks the distance to be a top climb in the U.S. but the two miles on this road is tougher than any two-mile stretch of the Mount Washington Auto Road. It also lacks the weather and altitude that Mount Washington has.

Lower slopes of Hurricane Mountain Road

Bruce and I started from the scenic view area by Intervale. There is a steep ramp immediately on Hurricane Mountain Road followed by two miles of rollers. And then one comes to the gate. The road is closed in the winter. RVs and trucks are prohibited.

The steepness begins here

My recollection is I tried this climb but had to stop once on 2007. I tried a second time in 2008 and stopped. But my third time, in 2009, I tried again and made it. I told Bruce that I usually have to stop at this one turnout. When we came to it I could hear it calling for me to stop. Instead, I turned on the inside corner which seemed stepper than Mount Washington’s 22% grade. Probably 25% and maybe 30%. Tough.

At the summit, I told Bruce we could go over the top and then to Maine or turn around. He wanted to go over the top. The descent went better than the one time I remember descending before. Probably because I took it slower and never had to grab a handful of brakes.

Disappointing not to do the hillclimb for sure. And it has been canceled for tomorrow as well. But a little relief because I wasn’t feeling it this year and may never again. But also thankful I didn’t get dead and could ride another day.


Lodging was at the Grand Hotel at Attatash. Very spacious room. Somewhat cheaper than the hotels in North Conway. Two restaurants including one that served a pasta buffet Friday night ($24). I did not partake mainly because I had eaten a burger from Five Guys in Lebanon, N.H. around 3:00 p.m. and wasn’t hungry.

Hotel at Attatash

The bike, my 2007 Trek Pilot, was set up with a fully working triple drive train. The front was 24-42-52 whereas the rear 10-speed cassette was 11-34t. Stock for the bike was a 30t small ring and last year we left the 24t in place unbeknownst to me. So it’s set up for next year, I guess.


100,000 Miles Cancer-Free

A LITTLE BIT OF EVERYWHERE

A DAY OF CELEBRATION

It was January 17, 2010, and I decided to go for a bike ride. It was in the heart of winter but was a comfortable 41℉ (5℃) for a winter ride. It would be my first ride since November 8, 2009, when I rode 20 miles (32km). I had a radical retropubic prostatectomy at Johns Hopkins the next day and this would be my first time back on the bike.

I was diagnosed with cancer in 2009. I immediately set three goals.

  1. Don’t die
  2. Plan a “recovery goal” trip to France
  3. Ride. And ride more.

I spent almost six months researching my cancer treatment options. In August 2009, I asked my primary doctor at George Washington University Hospital if I could delay my treatment. He asked why and I told him I wanted to race the Mount Washington Auto Road Bicycle Hillclimb in New Hampshire in late August. He laughed and then said, “Sure, it will be the best thing for you.”

MWARBH Finish 2009

Living with cancer was very stressful. The only time I “didn’t have cancer,” i.e., when I never thought about having cancer, was when I was on my bike. I found peace on my bike and wanted that peaceful feeling after cancer treatment. November 9, 2009, began Part II of my life – Living Cancer-Free.

A cancer diagnosis, or any serious health concern, will force someone to take a look at their life, what they have done, and what they would like to do, the proverbial bucket list. For me, I always wanted to go to France and see the Tour de France. So while I made my doctor appointments including four “second opinions” (five separate doctors), I also signed up for a Trek Travel trip to France in July 2010. And I bought trip insurance.

I wanted to get back on my bike as soon as possible. I would be riding in the Pyrenees in France including the ascent up the Col du Tourmalet, from both sides, as this was the 100th year anniversary of the first time the Tourmalet was crossed in the Tour. I needed to be able to ride.

I rode. Slowly. I was in pain. A lot of pain. Although all stitches had been removed two months ago there was an indescribable pain when I sat on the saddle. I thought I might never be able to ride a bike again.

But slowly I was able to build on that winter ride. In mid-February, I did a slow ride with the Potomac Pedalers group and actually felt pretty good. In early March I rode The Hills of Ellicott City (Md.) and then on April 3, I took some friends to Altoona, Pa. for my personal “Breakaway From Cancer” ride. This would be a Metric Century ride with some of the best climbs in the area. I felt good.

Friends in Altoona, led by Scott Scudamore, on Valley Forge Road

I went to France. Although I would discover on the Tourmalet that there was lots of healing and recovery needed to come, I generally felt good. And I fell in love with riding in France. My first time was in 2010 and last month I rode in France every day but one while I was in Luxembourg because it was France. I’ve now been to France six times to ride since 2010.

Budos, France, 2010

And today I pedaled my 100,000th mile cancer-free.

I am here. I am cancer-free. I rode in France. And now, 100,000 miles. Life is good.

During this time I rode in 10 different countries besides the US: Austria, Bahamas, Belgium, France, Finland, Germany, Holland, Italy, Luxembourg, and Switzerland. I’ve ridden in 29 different states.

I’ve also ridden in 20 separate cancer fundraising events and five events for Multiple Sclerosis. I raised $25,000 for these worthy causes.

in 2019 I rode on New Year’s Day. Then I rode again on January 2 and had the thought to ride every single day at least 10 miles in honor of my 10-year Cancerversary. I rode throughout the winter in snow and ice and in the summer in the heat and humidity. And that continued in 2020 and 2021. The streak only ended when a foot of snow fell on January 3, 2022.

During this time I’ve climbed a number of mountains. In France I’ve been up the famous Col du Tourmalet, Alpe d’Huez, and Mont Ventoux.

Mileage by Year

20105100 (my first 5,000-mile year)
20113700
20126500
20136350
20146056
20158078
20168100
20175649
20184205 (Knee replacement and TBI)
201910150
202010500
202110369
202210068
20235175 (needed for 100,000 miles
List of Mileage by Year


In Italy I climbed the famous Stelvio Pass and froze in the rain on the Gavia Pass.

In Switzerland I climbed St. Gotthard Pass which is an 8-mile cobblestone climb. Also I rode across the Swiss Alps solo.

Mount Evans, Colorado 2016

British Airways

Summary. I flew from Washington-Dulles to Zürich, Switzerland on Sunday, June 11, 2023. My luggage, including my bike needed for a Swiss cycling vacation, contained Apple AirTags My bike never made it. For five days I tried in vain to get someone, anyone, from British Airways to see what I could see – my bike’s exact location at Heathrow. None did. I was unable to ride in Switzerland. I was reunited with my bike on Saturday, June 24:, 2023, in Luxembourg.


On Sunday, June 11, 2023, I flew from Washington-Dulles (IAD) to Zurich (ZRH) through London’s Heathrow Airport (LHR). Although a million-mile flier on American Airlines, this was my first experience flying British Airways.

The check-in at Dulles was quick and efficient. I had two bags to check, one suitcase, and a bike case/bag. They tagged them both as Priority and sent them down the belt. Both bags contained an Apple AirTag. My key tag, normally with my car keys, was in my luggage and my bike has an AirTag inside of the downtube.

My bike case

When I arrived London, I got through passport control plus additional security and made my way to the British Airways lounge. Finally able to relax I opened the FindMy app and saw that my keys and my bike were both at Heathrow. So far so good.

When I arrived at Zurich I waited for my luggage. My bag seemed to be one of the first bags on the carousel and I grabbed it and waited for my bike. And waited. I went to the Oversize Luggage door but nothing came out. I was avoiding turning on cellular service and paying a high daily fee and instead tried to log onto free Wifi at the airport. One problem is to get free WiFi they will send a code to your phone – which has to be on WiFi or cellular service to receive the code. I turned on my cell service.

I opened the FindMy app and saw the keys (luggage) were with me. I did not see the bike and had to expand the map so I could see Great Britain and there I could see it. My bike was still at Heathrow.

June 12 – 13:20

This was to be the first week of a three-week cycling vacation in Europe. While Week Two would be in Luxembourg with my Rooster Racing group, Week One was on my own in Switzerland. I rented a house in the Alps near Wassen for riding in the high Alps.

My first day would be a visit with my friend, Corinne, and her family in Zürich. I had hoped to arrive at her house by 14:00, assemble my bike, and then ride halfway around Lake Zürich in part to slam my body into European time but also to not bother Corinne or her husband as they were both working from home remotely.

I went to the Lost and Found (Luggage) at the baggage claim and approached the woman who would take my claim. I told her my bike did not make it. I showed her my claim ticket and when she asked for a description I showed her a photo of the case. While she offered some excuse about where the bike could be I showed her my live look at the Apple AirTag and told her it was still at Heathrow.

Still at Heathrow
June 12 – 19:06

Surely I was not the first passenger to show her an AppleAir tag being tracked by the FindMy app. Yet she seemed surprised that I knew where my bag was while her system did not. I am not sure if she was a British Airways employee but more likely an airport employee who dealt with missing luggage and forwarded that to the airlines. She offered the usual nothing assurance that most bags come on the next flight or within 24 hours.

Surprisingly I was calm and thought my bike would be on the next flight. I gave my location address in Zürich to the lost and found agent content that my bike would be delivered later in the afternoon.

I checked the British Airways flight schedule and saw that they have five flights per day between Heathrow and Zürich. The next flights would be arriving at 14:30, 17:50, and 22:30. While I would probably miss Tuesday’s ride in Zürich at least I’d have my bike when I headed for the Alps on Wednesday.

British Airways Daily Flights LHR-ZUR (June 2023)

At 19:06 on Tuesday, June 12, I checked the FindMy app and saw my bike was still at Heathrow. I had little hope that it would make the 19:45 flight and arrive Zürich on Tuesday. Also, I took to Twitter in the hopes that a human at British Airways would see my plight and get my bike on the next plane. It got no response.

My thoughts shifted from my bike being merely delayed to it actually being lost and I might never see it again. I could not relax. I did not sleep well and at 7:20 am on Wednesday, June 13 I checked the app. The bike hadn’t moved. I knew then it was not on the 6:50 am flight and had little hope it would be on the 9:20 flight.

June 13 – 7:20 am


At 9:00 Corinne offered me her phone to call the local British Airways desk in Zürich. I talked to a very nice but useless man. He was just a guy on a phone in Zürich and not at the facility at Heathrow. He told me that he would “add a note to the file.”

The agent had urged me to check the progress at the British Airways link they gave me for my case. The only thing of value in that link was a location to change where my luggage should be delivered. On Wednesday morning I changed it to Wassen, Switzerland, to the house in the Alps that I had rented for cycling.

I said goodbye to my friends and arrived at Wassen at 16:00. Even before finding my house I checked the status of my bike. It was still at Heathrow.

June 13 – 16:04


Twenty-five years ago I worked with a high school foreign exchange program. One student that I placed was 17-year-old Ben from Sissach, Switzerland. Ben and I kept in contact over the years and he was at the center of this bike vacation.

When I couldn’t get a bike reservation online for my train from Basel to Frankfort, Ben went to the desk at the train station in Basel to buy it for me. He arranged his work schedule and took two days off work to join me at the house in the Alps.

House in the Alps

On Wednesday I informed Ben not to travel to Wassen. I had no bike and no one at British Airways was responding. Ben canceled his plans.

With a house in the Alps for cycling and no bike I felt captive by the house. I checked on the location throughout the day and no movement. My tweets were ignored or answered by a bot.

Despite paying for a house for three nights, I needed a change where I wouldn’t dwell on missing my bike. I booked a hotel on Lake Lucerne and went on the British Airways site to change the delivery location to Beckenreid.

With no movement by Thursday, Ben invited me to visit him and his family in Sissach. It was close to Basel where I would catch the train and I gladly took him up on it. I went to British Airways and updated the delivery location to Luxembourg which was my next destination upon leaving Switzerland.

On Friday, June 16, I was enjoying breakfast when I told Ben I had to check the status on my FindMy app. I was shocked to see my bike had moved from the south end of the terminal to the north end. It was moving!

June 16 – 9:03 am
My bike finally moved

I also checked email and text and saw that British Airways informed me they “located” my item. Well, I knew the location for five days. Sigh.

I missed all my planned Swiss cycling vacation at the same time worried whether my bike would ever be returned. For four days I tweeted BA, eventually adding American Airlines (because I booked with them) and even included Heathrow Airport. I could not find one person willing to look at the location I had and retrieve the bike. 

Maybe American or Heathrow got someone to look. It was within 24 hours after including American and Heathrow on my tweets that the bike was located. When it was located they sent it to Zürich even though I had updated the location information to Luxembourg. Maybe logistically it was easier since BA has two daily flights to Luxembourg, 8:40 and 17:20. But that meant even more handling for my bike.

My first human contact came on Friday, June 23. I was sitting with my team at the Hilton Airport Hotel in Frankfurt when I received notice of a tweet. The sender was Julia Buckley, a CNN reporter based in London. She offered to help me get my bike back by working with the BA Press Office. While the offer was greatly appreciated, the bike was already in transport.

I still believe in people and think there are good people who work at BA. I think they cut a lot of personnel and replaced them with bots or AI. An automated response is designed to look human and often carried a human’s name. It’s quite deceptive really. 

I love my AirTag but it was both a blessing and a curse. It was comforting to know the bike was still at the airport the entire time but I was checking on the status 3-4 times a day and was frustrated that it was still there and BA never lifted a hand.


My return flight on July 4 was scheduled on Finnair from Helsinki to Copenhagen; BA from Copenhagen to Heathrow; and BA to Heathrow to Dulles. On July 3 British Airways notified me that my London-Washington flight had been canceled. However, they booked me on Virgin Airlines, two hours later.

I awoke on July 4 to a text from BA that my flight from Copenhagen to London was canceled. They did not rebook me. At the airport in Helsinki, Finnair couldn’t check me in because of the missing connection. I was able to call BA in London and they rebooked me on FinnAir directly to Heathrow at 16:00. Eight hours in the FinnAir lounge was a small trade-off knowing the British Airways would not be touching my bike on my trip home.


No one at British Airways reached out to me about this horrendous experience. In what I believe was my last cycling trip to Europe it was ruined by not having a bike.



Finland

SOMEWHERE IN FINLAND

The Rev. Bob Morley once said, “The best things in life aren’t what you’re doing or where you’re at but who you’re with.” This perfectly describes my riding in Finland.

Potatoes at the market in Forssa

Four years ago I was here and rode every day because I was riding every day in 2019. My Finnish daughter, Laura, even arranged for a 50km ride with her sister-in-law and some friends and it was a glorious time. I hoped to repeat it but it did not happen.

On my way to the airport to pick up a rental car

This time I did not seek out riding but let the rides come to me. I arrived from Frankfurt late at night on Saturday and stayed at the Helsinki Hilton Airport. My Finnish daughter, Jenni, (yes, I have two Finnish daughters) picked me up at the hotel and took me to her house.

Ready to ride

We were enjoying the company Sunday morning and I wasn’t necessarily in a hurry to build my bike up and go for a ride. Nor did we check the weather. Jenni suggested a ride so I built up the bike and we were out the door around 11:00 a.m. It was sunny.

Riding in the rain

Jenni got a new eBike in April and was looking forward to a ride where we could ride at the same pace. And I was looking forward to just riding. We didn’t ride far before the sun that had been shining quickly disappeared behind a cloud. Not long after that it started raining. And it was a steady rain.

Jenni

Despite the rain, we rode. Jenni was in charge of the route and picked a gravel road for about two kilometers. I didn’t mind riding on gravel except for what it was doing to my bike. It was trashing it. It was a sandy mix and there was grit everywhere. But I was with the right person. Where I was didn’t matter.

Sunny days

Jenni and I found a longer route on Monday it was sunny and a gorgeous day to ride. We were almost back to her place when the chain popped off her bike. Maybe it caused a bit of panic but I assured her that I could “walk” it back in place. And I did.

The strawberries in Finland are the best in the world

While Jenni went to work on Tuesday, I had mapped out a ride to the Helsinki Airport to pick up a rental car. It was an enjoyable ride about 80% on bike trails. I could have made it 90% but purposely added some country roads because given a choice between a bike trail and a lightly traveled country road I prefer the road.

There was sunshine in Finland

That afternoon Jenni and I went for a final ride before I left for Forssa. I left my bike case behind and took just my bike with me.

We saw pirates (Tampere)

When I was with Laura we did a lot of family activities. My first day we went site-seeing in Tampere. At no point was I yearning to ride. If it happened, it happened, but I didn’t need to ride. And the weather wasn’t cooperating like it did in 2019.

Tampere

But we had a window of opportunity and I wanted to ride with my Finnish granddaughter, Olivia. We went on city streets although many had adjacent bike trails or bike sidewalks. I wasn’t always sure where to ride. But Olivia was the trail blazer and I just had to follow her directions.

Forssa – Very trecherous wet road

In downtown Forssa we went by the river. The road we were on wasn’t as much gravel as it was clay. It was wet and my tires were sliding like on ice.

Olivia and Barry

When Olivia and I got back to the house we had ridden 15 km. She wanted more and we went back out until we had 25 km. Oh my god. She’s just like me. I love this kid.

Near Forssa

To fulfill my role as a guest taxi driver and exchange grandpa, I took my bike out of the car and stored it in the garage. So on Saturday when I went to visit friends in Turku, I did not have a bike with me.

Turku

My friends, Chris and Eeva, said they’d like to ride from their house to center city in Turku. It sounded great to me except I had left my bike behind in Turku. It wasn’t a big deal as they had two teenage sons and I could ride one of their bikes.

Pick a bike to ride

It was better this way. I could wear comfortable shoes and not my bike shoes that clip into the pedals but are pretty difficult to walk around in. Chris brought a cable to lock up the bikes while we went to lunch. I would have been very nervous leaving my bike behind with just a cable lock. I was much less nervous leaving their bikes with just a cable lock.

Selma and mom

So four of us including seven-year-old Selma followed a bike trail into downtown Turku. It was about 8 km (5 miles). Some of it was almost single-track. And Selma held her own.

Going back was a bit sketchy because instead of retracing our ride we followed city streets. Selma had to know when to be on the sidewalks and trails. She did have her parents to help. And I wasn’t always sure. But what fun! She handled her bike really well. It may have been my slowest ride of the year but it was sure enjoyable.

Bastard Bugers, Helsinki. Didn’t eat here but that name!

My last morning in Forssa I was able to slip out for a 50 km ride. The weather didn’t look promising but I beat the rain. This ride and my trip to the Helsinki Airport to pick up my car were my only solo rides in Finland.

It wasn’t 100% flat

The country is beautiful. Mostly flat. Heavily forested with lots of lakes. It is a great place to ride but the riding was overshadowed by even greater company. “The best things in life aren’t what you’re doing or where you’re at but who you’re with.


Gustyland

MONDORF-LES-BAINS, LUXEMBOURG 

Today would be our final day of riding with only a short window tomorrow that I already nixed. My recovery on this trip has been too little so a day of rest, but with travel, is what is in store for tomorrow. 

Dan holding Buffalo Court one final time

The routes were announced as 90 and 130 km. The 130 km would leave at 9:30 although 9:30 never really meant 9:30 much to the chagrin of our 29-year Marine veteran. (And he was right)

Keith and Heather. And cows.

We rolled out with apparently only Brian, our guide, and Alonzo, having the routes on their bike’s computer head units.  I had requested three weeks prior to this trip to have GPX files to upload before we arrived but none were sent. A couple of times during the week we were sent files in the morning about an hour before we rolled. I did not have files for France, The Netherlands, or today’s ride. Yesterday was a rainout and the ride to Andy Schleck Cycles was an old route ridden by Will. So basically we only had the Germany route in advance.

One of our Motos at Gustyland

We left the hotel and went up the first hill at a comfortable pace. My left shoe wasn’t clipping in. Before the ride, I walked through some cedar chips to get to the support van for water for my bottles and suspect that a chip was stuck in my cleat. I went to the front and asked for a stop when we made a turn. We made a turn but did not stop. I quickly stopped and shook out the offending tree piece then remounted and had to chase up a grade to catch the group. I caught them but not without using serious effort. In cycling terms, I burned a match or two (of energy).

Elvang, Luxembourg

It was an up-and-down day. My Wahoo recognized the roads and displayed the climbs as I rode them. In all, we had 21 summits on the route and missed a 22nd when we turned off right before the summit. It was a hilly or rolling day to be sure (4700′ of climb over 65 miles).

One of our motos

The first real climb we had come to left the river Moselle and climbed high up the hill. I hadn’t recovered yet from my effort 10 minutes earlier and immediately was dropped. Or dropped back because I didn’t want to go deep this early in the ride. Brian said we all ride at our pace and I accepted that. There would be two or three climbs like this and I felt I was holding back my group of strong riders.  If I had the map I might have told them the truth. I prefer a group ride of one where I can stop and take photos, something I can’t do sitting in a group.

Riding along the River Moselle

Our guide for the week, Gusty (Goose-ty), was hosting us for lunch. His son, Pet, was riding with us. Incredibly skinny and small, he looked to be 5’5” and no more than 100 pounds. He looked very young, maybe 13-14, but was 18 years old.

Waiting for the group

It was fascinating watching Pet’s recovery as we rode. We dropped him once and he may have been 500 meters behind us. We stopped and when we resumed he took off up the next climb like a bat out of hell. He could fly uphill but didn’t yet develop endurance muscles. I also heard it was only the third or fourth time on a bike. I figured if he was behind me I could stay in the middle between him and our group.

Climbing away from the River Moselle

Pit appeared to be tiring or maybe we were just running behind schedule. Brian and he made some adjustments to get to his house and cut our ride short. Amazingly we beat the second group although we were riding 30-40 km farther and left just 30 minutes later. 

The River Moselle. Germany is on the other side of the river.

Gusto’s wife, Dani, had set up a nice lunch spread. The one food I really wanted, small sausages, were gone by the time I went through the line. But I got two Cokes so it may have evened out.

When we left Gustyland we rolled out as a group. On the road Alonzo and Danny went to the front and took off, presumably to break up the group to see who would follow. I didn’t want to even if I could have and I’m not sure that I could have. They developed perhaps a 300-meter gap on us when we came to the fork in the road. Will’s head unit said to turn left whereas Brian’s said to turn right. We stopped and waited for the third group on the road, headed up by Gusty for the correct turn.

Quick stop (Pet)

On one long grade, I was pulling along without realizing Paul was on my wheel. He passed and thanked me for the pull and I reciprocated by grabbing his wheel. We passed Pit and tried to get him to join us but he couldn’t. Of course, as soon as the road turned up he flew past us. Again. 

Gusty demonstrating his knife to Zim and how to kill a wild boar

One final grade and this time the three of us were together. The van, driven by our mechanic, Jean-Claude, passed us and then pulled in front. Paul encouraged Pit to follow the car but he wasn’t ready to. I thought Paul was going to but in the end, it was just me.

Dinner at the hotel – Julie and Heather (L), Brian (R)

And I took off. Jean-Claude seemed quite pleased that someone was drafting his car. We passed maybe 6-7 in our group hoping that each one was envious of my drafting. We reached an intersection catching the first group and as I passed while he braked, we did a “low-five” hand slap. Drafting isn’t easy and the driver and both have to trust one another. And we did.

Lisa and Julie waiting to sign Gusty’s flag

It was literally all downhill from there. We rolled into town as a team (or a group that wants to be a team) and I rolled out of town. I wanted a photo of the town’s entrance sign that I tried to take yesterday in the rain. And I had to go to France one last time.

Bikes at Gustyland

At dinner in the evening Gusty shared how he met the Schlecks (hunting). He stated that he doesn’t live a luxurious lifestyle but in his own words makes up for what he doesn’t have materially with a big heart

Bike sculpture in Mondorf

We would learn later that the first group was delayed when one of the rental bikes wouldn’t shift due to a discharged battery. Fränk rode to his place, got his gravel bike, then rode both back to the hotel so that Lisa could ride his bike.

Gusty, Barry, Fränk, Brian

—-


Germany my Germany

SAARBURG, GERMANY

Our Germany ride would be different than the last time four years ago. And it would be much better.

Welcome to Germany

Fränk announced that we would be riding in the same groups as in Holland and then Gusty and he had a somewhat spirited conversation in Luxembourgish. I was luck to have my Google Translator nearby.

Alonzo and Bryan

Gusty: Wait, you said in Holland that I could take the cool kids

Fränk: Well it seems I changed my mind

Gusty: Please don’t make me ride with the loser group again

Fränk: Fine. I can roll out with them but if you catch us after I give you three minutes then we will just roll as one group

Saarburg

And with that my loser group rolled out with Fränk. We headed for the bike path that we rode back from the winery (lunch) on Sunday, down into Schengen across the Moselle River into Germany. I was consistently in the top four with a gap to the others. I enjoyed riding with our second guide, Brian from Ireland. We gapped the group a couple of times. Oops.

Dan and Lisa

I also noticed that as we climbed my right foot was slipping. This was the sign of a loose screw in my cleat which was confirmed at the top of the climb.

Rest stop near Saarburg
While other s ate I sat fixing my cleat

I had been following the GPX file Fränk had sent out when at a fork in the bike path he turned right whereas the map had as going left. Unless you saw the group turn you would not have known the direction to follow. I announced that I would wait for our stragglers to make sure they made the turn. As I stood waiting the second group came by. I wondered if it looked like I had to stop to walk. Oh well.

Fränk next to the River Saar

We had a beautiful descent to the River Saar. We jumped on a bike path and eventually came to a SAG stop hosted by our mechanic, Jean-Claude. I borrowed a screwdriver and he was insistent on helping. I missed the refueling at the van but grabbed a Coke and two pastries for my pockets as we rolled out.

Bryan, Fränk, Zim, and Alonzo

The second climb turned up leaving Saarburg. A ski lift ran above our heads. Bob and Heather usually rode together but Bob went up the road without her. I followed him at first but decided to do a U-turn and ride with her. She had walked in Holland on a climb and while not as tough today it seemed right helping her.

Heather

The food stop or rest stop was at the top. Both groups assembled and when it was time to leave we rolled together as one. I think, I know, Fränk really wanted to ride with his original group. We had a couple more climbs when a Strava segment popped up on my Wahoo. I do not remember riding here four years ago but I did since that is how I was able to star the segment.

Saarburg

We had a controlled descent to the Moselle River and found the bike path on the Germany side. We rolled together to the last rest stop and Fränk took off with three riders. This was a private ride by invitation only. Not that I would have wanted to join them.

Keith being pursued by Fränk

The rest of us so headed up out of Schengen and made our way over to the bike path that we rode on Sunday. I took the lead this time and stayed there 90% of the time. I was on pace for a PR and didn’t want to get it by sitting on someone’s wheel.

Climbing above Saarburg

It was a great day on a bike. Of the 6-7 rides I did four years ago here and the 3-4 so far this year, this was my favorite route. Unlike four years ago we did not stop for German Chocolate cake in Saarburg. What we did was much better than cake.


Although I track much of my ancestry to Germany, I haven’t studied enough to know where exactly my ancestors came from. But my DNA matches this region, the Rhineland-Palatinate. This was not lost on me as I pedaled through here wondering if 300-350 years ago my ancestors lives in this very place.

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