barrysherry - peaceonabike

June 15, 2019August 28, 2020

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.

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

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

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

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.

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

June 14, 2019August 28, 2020

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

June 12, 2019November 10, 2023

Finland

FORSSA, FINLAND

I rode every day in Finland, from Friday through Wednesday. This lends itself to one post, a lengthier post, instead of many.

On Friday I built the bike late after arriving from the U.S. via Iceland and went for a bike ride at 9:00 p.m. – because Finland. Actually, I arrived in Helsinki and drove to Forssa to visit our Finnish daughter (Laura Vainio was an exchange student who lived with us in 1995). I had the bike built as Laura arrived home from work and then began and afternoon and evening of visiting and eating so that was the reason I didn’t get wheels down until 9:00 p.m. That and I knew it would be OK.

Laura was excited to have arranged a bike ride for me on Saturday. I met Karolina and Kole Andersson and Johanna Nikander. They had mapped out a “Forssa Loop” ride which would take us (mostly) through beautiful countryside. Johanna is Laura’s sister-in-law and the Anderssons are friends.

Karolina is a FIBA (international basketball) referee and the two of us chatted the entire way. I intended to ride with each person equally but I had no clue how far the route we were riding was. When Karolina said that Johanna and I were turning and she and Kole were going straight, I felt like a jerk because I hardly said a word (yet) to the other two.

Karolina and I are officials. I don’t know basketball and I think she doesn’t know soccer, although she may. But you didn’t need to, to discuss officiating. Her philosophy is the same as mine and she faces some of the same challenges I do in dealing with other officials.

Johanna and I rode to their summer house/cottage on the lake and were met by her husband, Jarko, plus my hosts, Laura and Samoli, and their kids, Oskari and Olivia. Oskari and I went to sauna and then swimming in the lake. When we ended, Laura went to offer me a ride back in the car but I told her I would bike home. Of course, I had to find my way first, but I did.

We rode mostly on country roads where there was little traffic. Near the city are wide bike paths. Samuli said it is “recommended” that cyclists ride the paths and not the roads. Laura looked it up and said it was the law that where there was a bike path the cyclist couldn’t be on the street. I guess I violated the law. A lot. If it’s the law it is not strictly enforced like it apparently is in the Netherlands.

On Sunday we had mapped out a ride, albeit short, because I was leaving for Nurmijarvi in the early afternoon for soccer. Just as I was leaving Forssa, I saw a cyclist heading in the other direction. In Forssa I saw plenty of people on bikes but few cyclists. And I knew she was a cyclist.

At first, I thought it was cool I saw a cyclist. And in 20 seconds or so, I decided I would turn around and see if I could ride with her for a little while. When I turned she was already 250 meters up the road (street). And I thought with traffic lights I would not catch her. But I kept her in sight and slowly (as in 5-7 minutes) closed the gap.

That alone should have told me what I needed to know. But I got closer then pulled beside her. I knew I was violating all social norms. A man approaching a woman. A much older man approaching a much younger woman (I had thought she was probably in her early 30s when she went by). Approaching someone with an earbud in. Anyone approaching a Finn (sorry for the stereotype, kids).

Oskari and Olivia (front), Barry and Samuli (back)

I saw her and she was much younger than I had thought. But I told her I was from the U.S. and asked if I could ride with her. She said sure then stated she was going to Pori, about 90 km (55 miles) away. We rode on a bike path until it ended then on Highway 10.

Astrid was good. I didn’t struggle so much to keep with her than I did “work hard.” I was sweating. She was not. When she told me she had competed in a triathlon yesterday (she won by more than three minutes), I told her that I had ridden with a couple of triathletes the day before. And to my surprise, or maybe hers, she knew them.

After I returned I told Laura the story of how I approached a young woman to ride with me. Laura was horrified. “Oh no, you didn’t,” she exclaimed. I did and I told her that the mystery rider also knew Johanna. So I had Laura call Johanna to try to figure out who I rode with. It took about three seconds for Johanna to say that was Astrid Snäll. It was more in the form of “Oh, my God, I can’t believe you met – and you rode with, Astrid Snäll. Turns out she is a top-ranked runner and triathlete in Europe. But she was very down to earth and let me ride with her until I had to turn back.

On Monday I went exploring and found a train museum with handcars. I made Oskari and Olivia join me on Tuesday with the handcar. The car was built circa 1900 and was quite a workout to keep it moving when the track turned up (a 1% – 2% grade).

Air was a problem. I did not bring a hand pump instead planned to buy a CO2 cartridge when I arrived. The local bike shop in Forssa was only open Monday thru Friday and when I went on Monday, it was 11:45 and he was closed for lunch. Karolina had a pump I used on Saturday and on Tuesday I rode over to Johanna and Jarko’s place and they let me borrow theirs. I didn’t have a plan if I had a flat on the road in the middle of nowhere. But I made it out of Finland with no flats for which I am grateful.

As for differences or similarities to the U.S. (or to Virginia):

Johanna says drivers hate cyclists in Finland: SAME
I never had to worry about glass: DIFFERENT
Karolina says some drivers have road rage: SAME
Many more bike paths near cities: DIFFERENT
Wave to cyclists and they don’t wave back: DIFFERENT
Peaceful feeling out on the road with the wind in your face: SAME

June 1, 2019April 30, 2024

Atlas Ride

LAMPASAS, TEXAS

I arrived yesterday in Killeen, Texas. I assembled my bike and went for a 17-mile ride – until it was dark. Everything was working fine. Electronics (toys) were fully charged and I got a good night’s sleep. Not waiting for the hotel’s breakfast at 7:00 a.m., I grabbed a quick breakfast and drove to Lampasas. I arrived one hour before the start which allowed me to check-in and RELAX.

It dawned on me I had no one to ride with. No problem. I do 50-mile solo rides all the time. Plus this one had rest stops. I would do just fine.

Four women from the Rice University Cycling Team – Shannon, Gisele, Alix, Meike

At the start line, the 2019 Texas 4000 team rolled out followed by T4K alumni. Then VIP riders followed by the 50-milers then the 25-milers. I was taking photos of the roll-out, about 200 yards on-course, so I jumped in where I thought the 50-mile riders were because it was not clearly delineated as the riders rolled by.

It was a slow roll-out and I thought that I was in with the 25 milers. I eventually started passing people until I hit my pace. And then I found myself behind three women riders from Rice University. I had to jump in with them at least for a little bit. I am friends with their friend, Mary Natoli, and when I introduced myself, these riders remembered me from last year.

Last year was basically awful. I was two weeks removed from a severe concussion. I was out of shape and it was very hot, at least 10 degrees hotter than today, which was hot. I cramped severely the last 10 miles. I had also been on the front with the Rice U. team for a good part of the ride and that probably contributed to my cramping. Today I would take it easy.

I rode with three of the Rice team to the first rest stop. The fourth, Alix, had stopped for a saddle adjustment and her teammates were content to wait for her at the rest stop and regroup there.

Lactic acid is not my friend. Young people can take a long time at rest stops. I cannot. If I wait too long the lactic acid will build up and my legs will be shot for the next five minutes or so. Before they were ready to roll out I decided that I would go ahead and soft-pedal – let them catch me. They didn’t.

Fresh Oil – the sign was worse than the roadway

I came to a section with fresh oil. I had decided earlier that if I saw fresh oil I would turn around rather than subject my bike to those conditions. But I rode carefully and got the sense that the sign was up but construction had yet to begin. I got through the section at Mile 15. I turned back about a quarter-mile to see if I would intersect the Rice team. I did not.

But I noticed that I noticed my rear derailleur had stopped working. At all. I was stuck in one gear. I was riding a single speed. I kept going to the next stop. When the Rice riders arrived I told them that I was not being anti-social for riding ahead without them – I was riding a single speed and didn’t know if I could hang with them.

Four Women from Rice – Shannon, Gisele, Alix, Meike

We rolled out from the rest stop and were joined by a 2009 T4K alum – who happens to be married to one of the women I was riding with. We sat in behind two of the women, one was his wife, for a while until they insisted we pull. So we did and I was at the same point I was last year – working too hard. And on a single-speed.

We got to the rest stop with 12 miles to go. We slow-rolled out of there and hit the rollers. I was fine. Feeling good actually. We stopped at five miles to go for Gatorade and a dog, a Boston Terrier named Copper.

Rolling out, Alix Macklin was left behind. I saw her back, way back, and decided to drop back and ride with her. I had hoped we could close the gap to the group but we simply maintained the gap. So Alix and I rode together the last five miles.

At lunch, I found two T4K riders for this year including Adelyn Yau from the Rockies team. I was looking for Keila Garcia, my pen pal for this year’s ride. I never introduced myself to Adelyn until after she made contact with Keila. When I told her my name was Barry she said “You are her pen pal” (and then said it’s a good thing I didn’t tell her earlier). We hooked up. Keila was surprised to see me and I was glad to meet her. She confessed she is not a cyclist but is on the trip for the mission. She has her head on straight. Godspeed Keila. You will make a difference.

EDIT/EPILOGUE

I left the Atlas ride and headed to my hotel in North Austin. I did a search for bike shops and found Bicycle Sport Shop on Palmer Lane. Late in the day, they told me to bring my bike in. Sam Legge ran some diagnostics and found the wire from the shifter to the junction box had been inadvertently tightened with the bar stem – so it worked for a while in Texas, about 35 miles, then was broken completely.

Sam did not have the right size wire and called his other stores. We were looking at having it delivered on Sunday, actually, I volunteered to pick it up from one store and deliver it. But he put a longer one on there and got the bike working. He worked past closing and got my bike back on the road. I highly recommend this place.

April 11, 2019August 29, 2020

Jekyll Island

JEKYLL ISLAND, GEORGIA

Having ridden on St. Simons Island, I wanted to try a different island and chose Jekyll. I have never been here before and knew next to nothing about it. My first decision would normally be how far but a longer than planned trip from North Carolina helped me make my decision.

There is a causeway that leads to the island. I stopped at the welcome center on I-95 in Georgia and asked if one could bike on the causeway to the island. No one knew. There is a welcome center halfway there on the causeway and I had hoped to park there but parking is limited to one hour. So I drove all the way to the island.

As for the causeway, it was a non-starter. The turn off to the causeway offers no parking anywhere close. The causeway itself is two lanes, some of it 55 mph, much of it 45 mph. No shoulders. But would I ride it? The answer is yes. It is straight and flat with visible site lines. It’s not for the faint of heart but on a road bike, I would ride it.

But I drove to the island with a plan of where I would ride. Entering the island I turned right and looked for the first place to park. It was a water-slide park, not yet opened for summer.

I never created a map for my GPS and went by memory. I would ride around the island counter-clockwise. I stayed mostly on the road even though there were a number of bike paths. Some were best for the fat tire variety and not for this road bike.

I hadn’t checked the air pressure in my tires before I left. Perhaps because there was more sand on the streets, I thought it would be best to check the pressure. I found the one bike shop on the island.

The owner (or operator) had beach cruisers. I asked about an air pump and he looked at my tire with its Presta Valve. He said, “Sorry, I don’t have air for that type of tire.”

It was an enjoyable ride. Traffic was mostly slow and respectful. Comparing the two, I would go back to St. Simon’s Island before Jekyll Island but either one is a nice diversion from a long car ride.

December 31, 2018July 24, 2023

Reflections on the Year – 2018

If the year is measured simply by mileage, it was a down year. A very down year. The last year in which I did not reach 5,000 miles was 2011. The total for this year was just 4,205 miles. I can point to two events – two major events, which kept me from accumulating more miles but it may have been more than that. And I can always blame the rain which was a record annual rainfall in the D.C. area. In February, I had knee replacement surgery. I had gone six years with at least one ride every week and I scheduled the surgery for a Tuesday. That way I could ride on Monday (the first day of the “Ride Week”) and 13 days later, the following Sunday, be able to ride again and not miss a week without a ride. Thirteen days came and I tried to pedal my bike. I turned it over one time. One revolution. That was it. One. I could not pedal a bike. I hit the gym and started riding a stationary bike. I read books; cycling books, while I pedaled my way back to bike fitness. The books all had a common theme: Every cyclist at the World Tour level from 1995-2010 was on dope. Except for Jens. I did not track the indoor miles (I didn’t GO anywhere so how can I track miles ridden?) and finally got going in late April. And on May 16 I woke up on a bike trail in Ohio with no recollection of where I was or what I was doing in Ohio. So it was off the bike some more. Still, I had some nice or memorable or forgettable experiences. (In chronological order):

The Atlas Ride (Texas4000, Lampasas, TX)
MS-150 Ride from Hollidaysburg to State College (Pa.)
T-Town
Jeremiah Bishop Alpine Loop Gran Fondo
The Seagull Century
Palomar Mountain
Mount Baldy
World Hillclimb Championships
Phil Gaimon’s Cookie Gran Fondo
The Horrible Hundred

Summary: The Atlas Ride came much too soon after my accident. I was not in shape and it was nearly 100° (that’s 38° Celsius). I was still in concussion protocol and I suffered greatly but got to meet my Bicycle Buddy from the Texas 4000, Grant McFarlin. The MS Ride changed this year. There was a bigger emphasis on groups. Being solo I rode alone and could not find a seat at the dinner since they were reserved for groups or friends were saving seats. So even though I was a top fundraiser, I ordered room service. There was a miscommunication between our Spokes of Hope group and the Valley Preferred Cycling Center (Trexltertown, or T-Town) so we did not get to ride during the Friday Night Lights event. But Gary Gravina and Stacey Lowmaster Gravina came out to see the races (and me) and our group had a nice ride on Saturday. During the Jeremiah Bishop Alpine Loop Gran Fondo, a bike mechanical and still not back to bike shape, I ended up meeting a teen who wanted to ride and talk. I wanted to be left alone but I shepherded him through 80 miles, not 100, and he won the KOM for his age group. At the Seagull Century, I rode in a draft for 60 miles then pulled for 40. It was the best I felt all year. I found my way to Palomar Mountain, which is one of the iconic climbs in southern California. The next day I climbed Mount Baldy. This is a very tough climb and am glad to see it back in the Amgen Tour of California for 2019. How not to prepare for the World Hillclimb Championships? Ride Mount Baldy and Palomar Mountain the two days prior. I finished dead last in the world (or maybe second last or third last). But I think DFL. It was fun. I followed up the Hillclimb Worlds with Phil Gaimon’s Cookie Gran Fondo. Not sure which was tougher – the Saturday “fun” ride or the main event on Sunday. I finished the year with the Horrible Hundred in Clermont, Fla. Didn’t do the full 100 because I rode with John Dockins and Joe Berezo and they weren’t going the full distance. Some days it’s more about friends. But three events stand out this year. First, I was riding in Ohio and somehow crashed on a bike trail. I have no recollection of the event. It’s surreal to reconstruct where I was with no memory of it. But I know this sport that I love, that two wheels can leave us at any time and you can’t always protect your head. Always wear a helmet. My dear cousin, Kay Walborn, was diagnosed with a brain tumor in January. Her last words to me were let’s ride together in September at the Clarion M.S. Ride because “last year was so much fun.” She died in August and I so wanted to get her to Trexlertown to ride on the track. But my neatest conversation was July 9.

Kay called me on July 9. She never called but we texted a lot. But she called because I had given her a book “Under the French Blue Sky.” Written by my friend, Nicole Davison, it described Scott and Nicole’s trip riding the route of the Tour de France in 2016. They rode one week ahead of the actual Tour. Kay called me and asked me how much it would cost to do that. I told her about $12,000 (although fundraising could account for $8,000). She told me she wanted to do that with me in 2019. She would have to get rid of her tumor first. I promised her I would wait for her and we would ride together. Kay Walborn died on August 19.

Kay alongside the Clarion River, Sept. 2017 May all your rides be downhill with a tailwind.

Nine years ago I was battling prostate cancer. I delayed treatment to be able to “race” (slow ride, actually) the Mount Washington Auto Road Bicycle Hillclimb. I talked to the winner after the event and, Phil Gaimon, now says he was “sad and lonely” and living out of his car at the time and I had befriended him. He often wondered how I was doing. I got to see him in October at his Gran Fondo and he even tweeted about our first encounter. Cutest moment: Two girls were at Dunn Loring and after a 40-mile ride when it was hot, chased me down to offer me lemonade. Funniest moment: At the Horrible Hundred in Florida, I wore my rainbow socks from the Hillclimb Worlds. One woman asked me about that and told me she thought they were a joke (that I was in the Hillclimb Worlds). Haha. I guess it was. BY THE NUMBERS

November 21, 2018August 21, 2020

Horrible Hundred

CLERMONT, FLORIDA

It was a beautiful morning. I parked and then rolled up to the flagpole at the start. I waited to meet my friend and former colleague, John Dockins. We met and were joined by another former colleague, Joe Berezo.

I saw a rider wearing a cancer ride jersey and went over and talked to him. Actually, there were two Florida riders who had ridden with Team Portland this summer. It was nice to say hello and they apprecieated someone knowing what their jerseys were from.

When we rolled out we started up a hill and John took off. I went with him and it would be the last we would see Joe. We found some riders and I told John we should avoid “putting our noses into the wind” for a while. I did. John didn’t. John was about 300-400 yards ahead of me but I never wanted to chase. I also knew I would be going into the red to catch him. I waited until Rest Stop 1.

We refueled and waited for Joe. After 15 minutes and not finding Joe, we decided it was time to roll out. And just like that, John was gone again. At one point I passed a rider I met yesterday who looked to be struggling. I turned around to see if I could shepherd her but couldn’t find her.

At Rest Stop #2 we met Robin from yesterday. “You look familiar,” she said before stating “It’s Barry from Virginia.” “I didn’t recognize you without your helmet.”

Robin – same kit as yesterday. Or same picture? Hmmm.

And it is true. You can ride all day with someone and you recognize them only on the bike, their bike, wearing their kit of the day. Robin had a different kit and was off her bike. And I was wearing the cookies as I had promised.

I enjoyed wearing the Cookie kit. One rider passed me and yelled out “Hi Phil!” Just as a friendly reminder there is a 50 pound weight differential between us and he was passing me. I am not Phil Gaimon although it was great one rider recognized the cookie kit. Or maybe three.

The big decision today was distance. Mostly the 70 mile and 100 mile routes were the same except at “decision time” one would need to add a 30-mile loop. Joe was going to ride 70 (or less). John doesn’t have many miles this year and was going to ride 70. John’s son, Matt, and his fiance’, Pauline, were riding 70. It seemed all the cool kids were riding 70. With a drive to Savannah today, I did not mind not riding 100.

We would make the turn towards home but not without Sugarloaf Mountain looming large. There were some walkers and some stopped. The climb is hard but nothing like Gibraltar Road, Mount Baldy, or Palomar Mountain, the latter two which are measured in hours and I rode three weeks ago. I was 30 seconds faster today than two years ago and I have no idea how.

The ride into the finish features one last pain-inducing climb followed by a nice descent. I missed the memo of a sprint finish and some riders went flying by. It’s a ride, not a race.

At lunch we met a rider from yesterday’s bakery ride with more insight on the crash. He said he was riding at the front and a rider braked to take a natural break. He was from Clermont and told us that the locals never ride those hills we rode today. We also saw Matt and Pauline and waited for Joe – only to learn he had cut his ride short to get back to Tampa.

Soon my friends dispersed and I was left alone. Sort of wished I would head back on course to get 100 miles but also knew I had a long drive ahead to Savannah.

November 17, 2018August 21, 2020

The Bakery Ride

CLERMONT, FLORIDA

Undecided which of the “familiarization” routes for the Horrible Hundred I would do today, I thought I was too late for the 8:30 a.m. 50-mile “Bakery Ride.” Although I arrived at 8:20 a.m. and somehow grabbed a primo parking spot just yards from the start, I also did not want to rush.

There would be a 35-mile ride at 8:45 and a 42-mile ride at 9:00 a.m. I called Joe Berezo who I knew was riding the 35-mile route. I thought I would jump in with him. The time was 8:33 a.m. so I assumed the group waiting was his. But then they pulled out. It did not take much encouragement from Joe to have me jump in the 50-mile ride. We would meet after our rides.

And off we went. I didn’t try to get an accurate count but would estimate there were 60 riders or more. I’m not of a fan of such a large group and write about that later.

We rode two and three abreast. Sometimes we were on country roads but for short stretches, we were also on main roads. On main roads, the shoulder was large enough for only one rider and the group seemed to stay one on the shoulder with one in the far right travel lane. I’m a bit fearful and stayed on the right shoulder.

Advertised with a 17-18 mph pace, it seemed we were often rolling along at 21-22 mph. But that data show we rolled through the first 20 miles at 17.4 mph so I guess the estimate was right.

DISASTER STRIKES

Well, not really disaster. We were on Highway 19 which is a somewhat busy two-lane road with traffic. The group was rolling along, slightly downhill when someone touched their brakes. That sent a ripple through the peloton and two guys behind me touched wheels. The sound of a crash in unmistakable.

A number of us yelled “crash” but the group kept rolling. I stopped. We stopped. A rider was down. A car was stopped in the lane and it was unclear if the riders had been hit. We would learn that the riders went down in front of the driver. She almost hit them but did not but she was shaken up.

Everyone seemed to be a doctor, and maybe they were. I offered two things: First, two bikes were partially on the road. I removed them from the road and put them clearly in the grass. Thoughts of Jamie Roberts losing her life in Kentucky while standing at the edge of the road were enough to make me ensure that we were all safely off the road.

Second, I had them check his helmet. Sure enough, it was cracked. I suggested we call 911. No one did. Instead, they called for a friend to come pick him up. I think with a cracked helmet he needed to be evaluated by medical professionals. Thoughts of my own experience in Ohio on May 16 are still fresh with me.

Now down to half a group, minus one (or three as two riders stayed with him), we rode off towards the bakery. I thought with half a group it was a more sensible pace. The data show that the next eight miles we averaged 18.1 mph. Shows you what I know or how off my perception is.

The bakery is a nice stop. I did not buy anything so I cannot be a food critic. And then we rolled home.

I had met two riders, Evelyn and Robyn (Robin?). Evelyn had noticed my socks, “Hillclimb Worlds” and thought that was the coolest thing. Or a joke. I told her they were real and I finished DFL. Not so sure she thinks it was so cool now.

We came to three rollers. The first was preceded by a nice downhill and we were all touching our brakes – before a climb. On the first climb, I rolled up with the peloton. But then I gave them 50 meters. I did not want to roll down the next hill touching my brakes. And that worked. At the end of the three we waited 4-5 minutes for some who had been dropped.

Scouts and a chicken – Howey-in-the-Hills

Once we rolled out I stayed with Evelyn and Robyn. I didn’t have to worry about braking in the group and Evelyn took us a different way back onto one of the trails which was thoroughly enjoyable.

They said goodbye and “see you tomorrow” although I doubt in the thousands (or hundreds) that show up I will see them again. I met Joe and we had an enjoyable lunch at Zaxby’s – important because we’re riding different routes tomorrow.

And now my thoughts on the ride:

Our group was too large. I don’t know if they had ride leaders enough to split it but two groups of 30 or three groups of 20 would have been much better. The second group could have left five minutes after the first group. And the second group 10 minutes later.

While most who jumped in the “A” ride are decent bike handlers, we are not professionals. With 60+ riders in the peloton there was too much yo-yo-ing in the group. Even on a flat road at 21-22 mph, there were riders touching their brakes. One woman yelled out “would you all quit braking!” (She would later crash, not from braking but from her chain coming off while she was going uphill.)

IMHO, it was the size of the group which led to someone touching their brakes while we were rolling along and the ripple effect caused the two riders to crash – one was badly hurt. When we rode as a small group to the bakery this wasn’t happening.

Second, the size of the group exposed us all to frustrated, impatient, and even pissed-off drivers. On more than one occasion a truck (it was always a pickup truck – the reader can draw their own conclusions) passed a very long line of cyclists crossing the double yellow lines. On one occasion the truck was going extremely fast while an oncoming car seemed willing to play “chicken” with the truck. With riders two abreast, and there was no shoulder here, he sped up even faster to get past the front of the group and cut back with less than a second before a collision.

A long, stretched-out peloton, like we had today, is hard for a motorist to pass. But they will try. And if you are thinking riders should ride single file, if there is no shoulder they will be in a travel lane and single file is twice as long as two-abreast. Most motorists underestimate how fast cyclists are traveling. A group traveling at 21-22 mph takes much longer to pass than drivers estimate. Of course, they don’t realize this until they are in the opposite lane facing a car coming at them.

I LOVE this ride. The familiarization rides on Saturday are great. But there were times today I felt my safety was in danger just because of the size of our group. And I think it was a contributing cause to the accident today.

EDIT/EPILOGUE – NOVEMBER 18 – At lunch, I met a rider who was up front in the peloton. He said the chain-reaction crash was caused by a rider who decided he had to take a nature break so he hit his brakes and pulled over. Wow. This differs from what Robin heard – that someone had a mechanical although I will say I did not see anyone repairing their bike while we waited with the injured rider.

November 16, 2018August 21, 2020

Amelia Island

AMELIA ISLAND, FLORIDA

This was an accidental stay. I intended to stay around St. Simon’s Island, Georgia. When snow hit yesterday morning, I jumped in the car and drove. On my way, I was looking for hotels near St. Simon’s and found this – which must have been close only in air miles. So I drove to Florida.

Excited to ride, I woke up and it was cold. It was the same temperature that I left behind in Washington, D.C. – 41°F (5°C)

I dressed for a ride like, well, like I was at home. One difference was it would to get up to 60° in Florida while it was only to get up to 50° at home. Plus there was no snow on the road here.

I left the hotel completely upside-down. North was South and South was North from someone who usually has an impeccable sense of direction. The hotel was located on the Amelia River which was west and sure looked like the Atlantic Ocean if you squinted real hard. Real hard.

Fernandina Beach has a very pretty old town component to it on Amelia Island. That is where the hotel was located. I started by exploring some of the streets before really riding.

I thought I was headed north while going south. Eventually, I straightened myself out and knew I was headed south to the end of the island. I started up on the causeway but decided that was also a good turning around point.

Traffic in this section was a bit faster than I wanted and I wasn’t sure how much time I had to spend here.

I found the ocean and the nice folks at the bike shop gave me directions. But I just sort of wandered around exploring.

I hit some major streets that I would avoid if I rode here again. But disappointment that I didn’t do better navigating. If there is a next time, I will do it better, if not right. A quick shower and I was off to meet my cousin, Brad Lawmaster, in Lake Mary, Florida.

October 28, 2018August 21, 2020

Sugar Cookie

CAMARILLO, CALIFORNIA

If I wanted breakfast at the hotel, and that is my favorite part of staying at a Hilton Garden Inn, I would be unable to make the earlier routes. And I already skipped breakfast once on this trip; that was before the World Hillclimb Championships. I wanted breakfast today.

After a great breakfast I headed back almost to Oxnard where I stayed Thursday. The Phil’s Cookie Fondo was departing from an air strip in Camarillo. The temperature dropped, it was 55^o. Fog had moved in although 10 miles into the ride we would see the sun.

The Sugar Cookie is our shortest route, but don’t think it’ll be easy. It starts up Potrero Road: where you’ll pray around every turn that the climb will be over. Cruise along the top of Sycamore Canyon and the quiet horse farms of Hidden Valley, and then you’ll face the short climb up Decker Canyon from Westlake. Survive that, and you’ve earned a fun descent down Mulholland Highway to to the Pacific, and a flat run to a Michelin-star lunch at the finish.

Foggy and a little wet, we rolled together for seven and one half miles and then saw it – the Potero Road climb. Immediately I could see people walking their bikes. My legs were tired from the previous four days of climbing. I wasn’t sure about this – except I was. There would be no walking or stopping.

Cyclists walking their bikes on Portero Road

The only reason I would stop would be for a photo op but it’s hard to capture the grade of a climb in a photo. I would want to take one of the number of people walking or had stopped but I did not.

I never thought about quitting. Sometimes it was head down and looking only at the front wheel. Looking up for the end was too disheartening.

This is where I missed my heart rate monitor. I would have liked to see what it was pegging out as. And not so much at the time, I could feel that, but after the ride. I climbed the 2.5 miles in 20 minutes which felt like forever on some of the grades. Still I probably passed 100 riders stopped or walking, maybe 10 who were riding, and was passed by about 10.

After Rest Stop One, there was another climb. While it wasn’t so bad; the visual was awful. Ahead and off to the right I could see this awful fencing of a horse farm. It looked like gnarly switchbacks but thankfully the road did not go there.

After Rest Stop Two we had to face Westlake Blvd. It was a little shorter, two miles, also had a number of people walking but I saw far fewer than the first climb probably because those people hadn’t reached this climb yet.

The reward was reaching Mulholland Highway which was a mountainous, curvy, beautiful eight mile descent to the Pacific Ocean. Much of the time I was in the mountains and really didn’t have great views, or any, of the ocean until reaching the Pacific Coast Highway.

Turning on the PCH, there was a shoulder most of the way. And a wicked cross wind which at times was a head wind. I passed riders, especially those who were doing a family ride, out and back. I slowly caught, Brittany, from San Diego, a 20-something. I told her I was passing her, slowly, and she jumped on my wheel. For the next 18 miles.

I was head down in the wind and she held on until about five miles to go and I saw I dropped her. I then waited and backed off the pace. Brittany told me she signed up for the ride because of chocolate chip cookies. She never heard of Phil Gaimon so I filled her in.

Finishing the ride I told her I would introduce her to Phil. We parked our bikes in the coral and a few minutes later she got hers and told me she was taking her stuff to her car and she’d be back. I never saw her again.

Phil’s assistant laughed at me. Or laughed with me. I told her I have been stood up by better people. And she didn’t get to meet Phil.

With tired legs, yesterday convinced me to go short today. But the 50 mile route was hard, at least 17 miles of it. But that meant, surprisingly, I was back before Phil and some other pros who had ridden the 85 miles route.

Toms Skujins had come over to me and introduced himself last evening and when he came in I went for the photo op. I got one of the other guys to take it. Tom told me selfies were for 12 year-olds. Then another fan came up and took a selfie with him.

Tom told me he heard that I had been through a lot. Wow. Now I wonder what Phil told him. We talked head injuries. I had crashed out at 25 kph and was unconscious, he had crashed in the Amgen Tour of California going 70 kph and tried to remount. That, and we both ride a Trek (he rides for Trek-Segafredo) are the only things we have in common.

I had come to this Fondo as a bucket list item. A one-and-done. After today, I would like to come back.