Four-Country Ride

MONDORF-LES-BAINES, LUXEMBOURG

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.



Luxembourg the Country

MONDORF, LUXEMBOURG

Another beautiful day in Luxembourg. We looked forward to another brilliant ride. One problem. My illness, and I think it’s a cold, got worse. I had a bad headache last night and was feeling like crap. I thought about sitting this one out. But I hoped a bike ride would make it better.

Glen Leven’s bike. Glen is a mechanic for Trek-Segafredo.

You see, I have a history with this. About 10 years ago to the day (actually June 6, 2009) I was sick. Very sick. I should have been in the hospital. Instead I went for a bike ride. A long, hard, bike ride. It did not make it better. But I knew then to call the doctor.

 

Glen Leven (pro mechanic), Will Swetnam, Frank Schleck

Before rollout, Frank and Andy Scheck‘s dad, Johny, came to meet us. He is the father of the two Brothers Schleck and the unknown brother, Steve. He had also ridden in the Tour de France, from 1965-1973 less 1969. It was a nice gesture and most of our group knew him from last year.

 

Stadtbredimus – Next to the Moselle River

We followed the beautiful Moselle River and onto some streets and roads. We had a little nasty climb ahead, and it started to rain. It wasn’t heavy, and it didn’t leave the roads a mess, it just refreshing, actually.

 

Will, escaping the rain (which would last about 3 minutes)

We would follow the route of the Medio Schleck Gran Fondo with one diversion. Gusty, our guide and friend, wanted us to visit his place, a place that Frank, and Gusty, call Gustyland.

 

Flaxweiler

We stopped and had a 45-minute snack. Martine Schleck had brought some delicious bread and cake. Gusty’s wife, Donny (sorry about the spelling), served some meats and cheeses. There is always laughing when you are around Gusty and today was no exception. He proudly showed off how he hunts pigs (wild boar) with knives.

 

Gusty demonstrating his knife skills

The views kept getting better. We were on the switchback of the “last” climb, well, except Frank lies. He doesn’t do it intentionally, he just doesn’t realize that what is a bump in the road for the former winner on Alpe d’Huez during the Tour de France, is a climb for us mortals.

 

Chillin in Gustyland. One of our moto drivers is standing on the right.

Frank calls out “Last climb! Last climb! Give it your all. Leave nothing here.” One problem was I couldn’t see how far the climb went. Still, I did my best and did leave the small group I was with. It was a small victory.

 

Gustyland

We came to the overlook at Stadtbredimus. Vineyards and a river view. And Gustyland somewhere in the distance.

 

Stadtbredimus

Frank said he had good news and bad news. The good news is we were about 10-15 km from the end (his distance measures were off too – LOL). The “bad news” was he was willing to take some riders and go an extra distance.

 

Stadtbredimus – Overlooking Moselle River. Germany is on the left of the river.

Normally I would be all over that but I wasn’t feeling well. I needed to finish in the pack and call it a day. Frank ended up with perhaps the two strongest riders for the week, both named Scott. As we rolled back towards home, they turned left. I could see a vineyard, a steep farm road, and hear Frank let out the best “Dr. Evil. laugh you will hear.

 

Ellange

I was glad with my decision. We rolled on through some beautiful paths and farm roads back to the hotel. The boys came in an hour later looking pretty beat. And today, the ride did make it better.

Luxembourg City

LUXEMBOURG CITY, LUXEMBOURG

On the schedule, this was a rest day as we had ridden 100 km in France and 100 km in Holland the past two days. Fränk Schleck proposed we see Luxembourg City.

We had two non-riders in our group for the week but Fränk found some “city bike” rentals for Svetlana and Jackie to ride. We had four cars, four people in each, and drove to the outskirts of Luxembourg City.

Fränk (or Gusty) led us down a very pretty and heavily wooded trail next to a small river. When we reached the old city, the streets were cobbled. Frank pulls up and stops at a bike shop. The owner knew Fränk, and I wondered throughout the week what percent of the country knew him and Andy. What stood out was the owner was wearing a Livestrong bracelet.

Bike shop

Those Livestrong bracelets were a fad. They were fading long before Lance came out and admitted doping but the number of people wearing them dropped precipitously after that. It is rare to see a Livestrong band supporter now and I didn’t think we would see one in Luxembourg. We did a fist pump.

A bike with a view

We made out way to a glass viewing elevator which would give us a great view of the city. Bikes permitted.

Lunch in town square

Lunch was in the general plaza area. Unsure if it was lunch or a snack, I ordered a Coke (Zero) and a banana split. There was no time for shopping but this rider was awed by the beauty of this old city which is on the list of UNESCO World Heritage Sites.

Fränk assisting Jackie

As we were getting on our bikes, Fränk was first and just started to pedal away. A waiter came over carrying a cell phone. At first I thought one of our group left their phone on the table. But then I realized the waiter had recognized Fränk and was coming for a picture. Fränk had just pulled away but I am sure he would have gladly posed for a photo op with the waiter.

Fränk and Jackie

When we returned I went for a ride in France to give her a second chance. This time was better than Saturday’s ride.


Amstel Gold Route

VALKENBURG, HOLLAND

Our group, Rooster Racing, drove from our base in Mondorf, Luxembourg to The Netherlands, to ride part of the course of the Amstel Gold Race, Holland’s most famous race. One (at least this one) envisions Holland as this flat country of windmills, canals, and tulips. Well, that may be true in the north, I don’t know, but in southern Holland it is hilly. Damn hilly.

Bikes in the Schleck van

We boarded a 17-passenger bus for the 3-hour ride to Valkenburg. Upon arriving we parked in a train/commuter parking lot. The Schleck van had all our bikes onboard and we only had to reattach the front wheel to our own bikes. Today’s route would be 100 km while the actual course for Amstel Gold is two and one-half times that.

Before rolling out, we took a moment to recognize (American) Fathers’ Day. There were seven of us: Gusty, Bob, Paul, Carl, Bryan, Fränk, and me. With four children, I had the most, plus include four more grandchildren too. Maybe I don’t belong in this group. None of the others had grandchildren.

Father’s Day: Gusty, Bob, Paul, Carl, Bryan, Fränk, Barry

 

But today’s Father’s Day was even more meaningful. Will Swetnam had the honors of writing Bethany’s name on my calf and today I would ride in honor of my daughter. In addition to making me a first-time father, I was here because I was riding for her.

The Roosters’ motto is “Do Good, Ride Hard, Live Well.” We each had a minimum of $1500 fundraising for the charity of our choice. And I chose the one that would benefit Bethany.

Margraten, The Netherlands

 

Fränk Schleck, made it a point to emphasize that in the Netherlands that where a bike path exists one must ride it instead of the street or road. That would be our riding today – on and off bike paths. We had only ridden 3.5 miles when the road turned up. This was the Geulhemmerberg. There was clear separation in our group. With one exception, our riders were younger than me and stronger, and I was usually about 2/3 of the way down on big climbs.

Mheer, The Netherlands

 

We waited at the top for two of our riders. I may have been 15 seconds down but a couple of riders were 2-3 minutes down. Once we regrouped we came to a church celebration in Bemelem. It was part parade, part Mass, and part funeral although I doubt if it was a funeral as we would hit others like it throughout the day.

Bemelen, The Netherlands

We had to detour around the small village. Fränk would talk to the policemen and I wonder how many recognized him as a former pro cyclist or more importantly, the winner of this race, their race, in 2006. It was his “coming out party” (winning the 2006 Amstel Gold Race) as he told us.

Mheer, The Netherlands

The terrain, not just the hills, but the course itself is especially dodgy. The streets are narrow. There is a lot of road furniture including speed bumps and bollards.

Will Swetnam, Paul Lewandosky, Barry Sherry

Being urban, or suburban, many residents don’t have garages and park on the street. The roads that aren’t urban often are farm roads with narrow bridges and sharp corners.

Norbeek, The Netherlands

We had four steep climbs on this course. One was Keutenberg with has a 22%-24% pitch. Another is the Cauberg, in Valkenburg, which is a steep city street. In the race, it is often used up to as many as four times. We only climbed it once.

After the first big climb (which may or may not have been the Loorberg), Fränk tagged two riders and made them ride in the van(s). Our bus driver was contracted by law so we did not have time to spare to ride three hours each way and bike for more than four hours (or so). They would have to be sagged until the end of the route.

Will Swetnam’s bike did not arrive with him in Frankfurt so he was riding Fränk’s bike. Yep, set up for a skinny pro racer. When we came to the second big climb Will was up the road but I eventually caught him. We weren’t racing but I pulled away. We crested and were about 300 meters from where the group had pulled over when Will went speeding by. I had sat up to wait for him and he smiled and said, “I had to do that.”

Margraten, The Netherlands

On the remaining two climbs, Keutenberg and Cauberg, I didn’t give Will a chance. I did feel bad, just a little, that he was riding the bike of an Amstel Gold winner. But hey, he was riding a bike of a former Amstel Gold winner.

Fränk Schleck

We had gone through the small village of Eys. The course turned sharply onto a farm road with a narrow bridge. Then a nasty climb – the Eyserbosweg. At the top where we all gathered, Fränk said that during Amstel Gold that if you’re not in the top 30 when you come to that bridge you have no chance of winning. It was a very interesting insight that put this course into perspective for us.

 

Margraten

The two riders that had been sagged had been dropped off at the base of the Cauberg. They got to ride up it and wait for us. We rolled in, met them, and we all finished the course together.

 

Farm Road

When I ride, be it a cancer ride or an MS ride, and see someone has a name written on their body or their bib, I ask them to tell me their story. New to this group, I thought someone would ask me who Bethany is and why her name is on my calf. No one did.

 

Sausage snack before returning to Luxembourg

However, at the team meeting this evening, Jambo (Jim Ray), one of the two organizers, put me on the spot and said that he saw the name Bethany and asked if I would mind sharing with the team her story. So I stood, choked back a tear, and said it was Father’s Day, she made me a father, and I am riding in Luxembourg for her health to find a cure.

 

For Bethany

Thank you, Jambo, for asking me to share that. Today was a very special ride.


Roosters in France

MONDORF, LUXEMBOURG

I love France. In five times of coming here in nine years, I never experienced any road rage. Until today. Early in our ride a car did not like being behind these cyclists and went by with its horn blaring. Damnit France, you went and screwed up.

Fränk

We rolled out of Luxembourg and only went two kilometers before we were in France. We began a climb up a gradual hill for perhaps one km. Some of our group got dropped, a harbinger of things to come. We waited at the top of the climb which allowed me to talk to some teammates and guests that were with us.

Entering France – The border is not guarded although the guardhouse remains

 

Joining us was a young (20) rider from Canada. Or the States. Couldn’t quite figure it out. Although Alex Lambert told me he was a Canadian citizen so we go with that. His dad, Alain, joined us also. Alex is a Cat 2 racer from Tuscon but is spending the summer in Luxembourg racing in Europe. Fränk is not coaching him but brought him over to expose him to European racing.

Donny with the moto

 

We had two motorbikes with us who helped us navigate intersections safely. Gusty’s wife, Donny (I hope that’s right), also rode.

Barry, Alaine, Alex

 

We went through some small villages and on some farm roads. As we came to a turnoff from a busier road (think rest area only little), Fränk said we could pull in there for a nature break. I saw what I thought were port-a-johns but they were recycling bins. Still, some of the guys and one woman found enough privacy for a nature break. I did not.

Rodemack, France

 

As we came into Haute-Kontz we turned to ride alongside the Moselle river. It was pretty here and I wanted a picture but we were riding in a group. We turned off the river road and went up a back road that got a little lumpy. I was halfway up when I started to lose contact with my group. Behind me was the second half and I was content to drop back to them.

Moselle River at Contz-les-Bains. I went back later for this photo.

 

Fränk Schleck started yelling “bigger gear, Barry, get a bigger gear.” Well, a bigger gear hurt. I wanted to spin easily and drop back with the second group. “Bigger gear, Barry!” Reluctantly, I put it in a bigger gear and I pulled myself back up to the lead group. But it hurt. I could also feel “pre-cramps” coming on, knowing that if I went over the limit I would be in a world of hurt.

Although we were on a different approach coming back, we were on the same ridge opposite the one we had started on. It was Mile 40. I was sitting fourth wheel on a 500-meter climb and got about 150 meters from the top and popped. I was on the right and waved my teammates past me. I just needed to spin slowly and finish the climb, and maybe rejoin them on the descent.

Contz-les-Bains

 

But I couldn’t quit. I couldn’t quite because young Alex came in beside me, put his hand in the small of my back, and was pushing me while pedaling. Here I was, wanting to quit, and Alex wouldn’t let me. With me giving it my all and Alex’s help, I made it over the top where I could keep pace the rest of the way.

Alex Lambert – gave me a helping hand

 

I teased Alex about not letting me quit but his helping hand was just enough. Another day riding in France but the image is now gone. And oh, a dog barked at us too. This is not the France I love.

Jackie, Margaret, Scott I., Scott H., Danny

 

Dinner that night was a bar-b-que at the table. Pork and chicken were served and we grilled the meat at our grills on the table (one grill for 4-5 people). Scott Hesford stood up and held out his finger. Danny pulled it. Scott unleashed the loudest and longest fart which would have been pretty funny. But he looked behind him and a couple was sitting at a table right behind his butt. That made it hilarious. He brought embarrassment to the Roosters but it would not be the last time. What a group.


So this is Luxembourg

MONDORF, LUXEMBOURG

I rode in the morning in Frankfurt, which was really a bunch of wooded bike trails near the airport. I never did find Center City Frankfurt. In the lobby of the Airport Hilton, I met Julie Trimble then went to breakfast and met Dan McDonogh and Scott Hesford. We all assembled in the lobby of the hotel before heading over to find the bus. 

 

Frankfurt Airport

But because I had assembled my bike yesterday in Germany, Dan said that was even better because the bus was short on storage space under the bus. We kept it out the case and rolled it onto the charter bus for Rooster Racing for the 2.5-hour drive to Luxembourg from the Frankfurt Airport.

We arrived at the Park Hotel and Fränk and Martine Schleck were there to greet us. Fränk told me that this day, picture-perfect and sunny, was Luxembourg, 270 days out of the year. Do you think he was lying?

Bike on the bus

While others were standing around waiting for their bikes to be assembled, I was able to grab mine and go for a spin. I asked Fränk where to go and he told me to turn right, “but it’s a busy road,” and go about two kilometers and make a right. There were two cars in the two km (1.2 miles). Ha! Busy indeed.

First Rooster Team Meeting
The pavement in Luxembourg, thus far, has been perfect. Traffic has been light and kind. Looking forward to a week here.

Dinner. Dan (in black), Jim Ray (Jambo) and Svetlana Martynova

 

Although we had met some people on the bus, we would meet the rest of the team at dinner. Our hosts were the Schlecks, Fränk and Martine, plus Fränk’s trusted sidekick, Gusty. Our team mechanic was Glen Leven, a team mechanic with the pro team, Trek-Segafredo.

Mondorf Parc Hotel

Our riders were Dan, Julie, Scott (met at breakfast), Margaret O’Rourke, Scott Ireland, Bryan Huneycutt, Paul Lewandosky, Bob Pane, Will Swetnam, Carl Bond, plus two non-riders: Jackie Hartman and Swetlana Martynova.

Fränk performing a secret Rooster ritual – the Buffalo. Also: Svetlana, Dan, Julie, Scott H.

I would have to know everybody’s name and I was very nervous about remembering them. Since my memory-loss accident last year in Ohio, I have had problems remembering simple things like names. I was quite nervous about the week.


Thor de France

LOURDES, FRANCE

Yesterday I had a problem with a loose spoke on my rear wheel and the wheel was out of true. I blamed the wheel rubbing on the brake for my dragging up the Tourmalet and really suffering up that climb.

The local bike shop in St. Lary opened at 9:00 a.m. so Adrian Register and I decided we would see if they could true the wheel before today’s ride. They couldn’t (the wheel was cracked.) Since we didn’t get on the road until after 9:00 a.m. by the time we reached Lourdes we knew our original plan of a 70-mile loop ride would not occur.

We wanted to ride and to see a stage finish and by the time we got rolling, we knew our best course of action would be to ride out and back. We would have to keep an eye on the time to be back by the time they closed the roads at 2:00 p.m.

Team RadioShack Car in Lourdes

A real surprise to us occurred less than 10 km from Lourdes. We were on a flat part of the course when I spotted the tell tale signs of evil. Freshly painted on the asphalt was the Devil’s pitchfork (or trident). I looked up and saw him and stopped. Photo time.

Barry with the Devil (Didi Sefnt)

Many people come to the Tour and hope to see the Devil. Getting a picture is an extra bonus. I got a picture yesterday and now, another one. I wonder if he recognized me from yesterday? I told Adrian no matter what happened, I was happy. My day was complete. My Tour was complete.

The Devil (Didi Sefnt) with Adrian Register

We rode out to Argeles-Gazost where the road turned up. Steep, but this was not the climb up the Col du Soulor. We hit a plateau and went through a small town. I got laughing as I passed a house where some kids, probably ages 10-12, we’re yelling out “hello” to passing riders. They were practicing their English. So I greeted them with a cheery hello as well. And they were pleased.

Barn near Argeles-Gazost

We were watching the time and it was shortly after 1:00 when we turned up the climb to the Soulor which would lead to the Aubisque. If we continued we would be stuck in place so we decided to turn around and get back to Lourdes.

At the start of the climb up the Soulor

At Lourdes we were able to ride inside the barriers until the 1km flag. At that point the course was closed. We walked our bikes for the final kilometer but it was very slow going through the massive crowds. We found the team buses and our plan was to be at the chute where they pass through although we couldn’t get close to that.

Meanwhile, back in Lourdes, Adrian on a breakaway…

Back in town, we took up position on the barriers to watch the caravan go by. It was quite comical because seemingly anything thrown to a French kid would bounce off their hands and into mine. It helped growing up playing sports where we used our hands. And as I did last year during the Tour, anything I caught I handed it to a kid. I’m not a jerk. Usually.

The caravan coming through Lourdes

After watching the caravan go by we moved to the 1K “kite” (generally known globally by the French name, flamme rougue, or red flag). Here we could watch them fly by and watch the last few hundred meters of the race on TV.

The flame rougue two hours before the race in Lourdes

There were a number of Norwegians on our corner but Thor Hoshovld had to overtake two French riders to win. I knew the Norwegians would cheer when Thor made his break but it seemed like everyone was cheering when Thor went ahead with 2k to go.

When we saw Thor fly by, we made our way to the team buses to see most of the riders come back.

Big screen TV at 1km to go

It was a different way to see the tour but got us close to many riders. We heard Thor win but couldn’t see him. We were in the bus area where the riders would be going to their team buses.

Fränk Schleck

We ended up next to Leopard-Trek bus. We saw Fränk Schleck come out (or just before he went in) and sign some autographs.

And I got a picture with the Devil.

Leopard-Trek roster painted on the team bus
Andy Schleck, Fränk Schleck, Fabian Cancellara, Oliver Zaugg, Bruno Pires
Jens Voigt, Dominic Klemme, Fabian Wegmann, Robert Wagner, Linus Gerdemann
,Davide Viganò, Daniele Bennati, Giacomo Nizzolo, Maxime Monfort, Wouter Weylandt
Jakob Fuglsang, Anders Lund, Martin Mortensen, Martin Pedersen, Brice Feillu
Will Clarke, Stuart O’Grady, Stefan Denifl, Tom Stamsnijder, Joost Posthuma
BOLD = Riders at the 2011 TdF

Scud TT

MONTCLAIR, VIRGINIA

Watch a Grand Tour like the Tour de France and you will see different types of riders based on their body sizes. Of course, there are exceptions to all of these but the “sprinters” tend to be bigger guys with big thighs. And they’re the most daring of all riders. If they can stay together with a stage at the end, one of them will come out of the pack to take it at the line.

The “time trialists” are great at riding at their own pace and this often favors some of the heavier riders who aren’t knocked around by the winds. Riding by oneself you have no protection from the wind.

The “climbers” tend to be smaller riders who always have the best power to weight ratios. The rider who will win a Grand Tour is someone who can do all these fairly well, but usually, the Tour de France is set up to favor climbers. Fabian Cancellara recently won the Tour of Flanders and Paris-Roubaix and may be the best cyclist in the world right now but won’t even be in the discussion to win the tour. Climbers like Alberto Contador, Andy and Fränk Schleck, and, of course, Lance Armstrong, get everyone’s attention.

I have a perfect body to excel at nothing. I’m too big to be a climber although the satisfaction is like none other. I wonder if, in my 20s, my sprinting ability off the bike would have translated to being on the bike? I will never know. I do know that two foot surgeries, one knee surgery, and age have robbed me of any sprinting ability I once had.

If I could pretend for a second, I guess my best discipline would be domestique – hanging back and carrying water to my team leader. And my dream would be not to win the Tour de France but to be the Lanterne Rouge.

Last week, Scott Scudamore posted a ride I called the Scud TT (time trial). He described it as only having 30 minutes so he went out hard and hammered home and tried to beat 18+ mph.

Since Scott and I ride together occasionally and he tells me that I am a much stronger rider than he is, I thought I could go do the same ride and smash his time. So on Thursday I rode to his house, stopped my bike, and then took off on his route to mirror his exact ride. My time was better — 19.3 vs. 18.5, but I was hoping for 20+.

I rode about as hard as I could for 25 minutes or so. 8.5 miles. For all his talk about being a stronger rider, I think it’s a bunch of hooey.

My legs were shot after this effort.

I stayed off the bike on Friday but did referee a high school varsity soccer match at night. And then, Saturday…

Our group ride was canceled so we did our own group ride. Except David Vito and his friend, Vince, showed up on time trial bikes. These bikes are fast. They’re equipped with aero bars for leaning out over the bike although they don’t handle quite as well as a regular road bike. And thus David and Vince suggested we ride the W&OD instead of our normal road route.

There were strong headwinds, 20-30 mph, and I did my best to hang on behind as we headed from Reston to Leesburg. Although Daniel Kalbacher took a pull, I had no pop in my legs on this day. We ultimately did 32 miles at a hard pace and I did one pull on the way back, with a tailwind, and was gone after that.

When I got home I jumped in the shower which eventually became slumping into a hot bath. And fell asleep. Then I moved to the bed where I slept. Then to the sofa. I ended up sleeping most of the time from 4:30 p.m. on Saturday until 2:30 p.m. on Sunday. Different locations, but still sleeping. I had a fever and headache along with an upset stomach.

Two days later the pop hasn’t returned. I am still sleepy. And this is eerily reminiscent of one year ago when I had those fevers which I thought would clear up on their own. They didn’t. Ultimately, in diagnosing an e.Coli infection they discovered cancer. And now I am left to wonder, what is it this time?


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