barrysherry - peaceonabike

October 27, 2018August 21, 2020

Chocolate Chip Cookie

AGOURA HILLS, CALIFORNIA

This is Phil’s Cookie Fondo. As I write this I have a fresh huge chocolate chip cookie on my hotel’s nightstand that I will never eat. But this was a bike ride with the Chocolate Chip and Sugar Cookie routes today. Tomorrow is the main event and will have the Double Fudge route, a whooping 117 miles and the Mini Chip rides as well as more Chocolate Chip and Sugar Cookie rides.

As soon as I went through check-in, I saw Phil Gaimon, complete with his Cookie Monster head. He called out my name and we got a quick photo. I first met Phil 10 years ago at the Mount Washington Auto Road Hillclimb and he has never forgotten. (Think on that)

We had a police escort for the first 3-4 miles. Not really sure when they peeled off. The group of about 100 riders stayed mostly together for a while and I was comfortable sitting in. Around five miles I decided I wasn’t going to keep up the pace we had been traveling.

I climbed Palomar Mountain on Wednesday, Mount Baldy on Thursday, Gibraltar Road yesterday. My legs were dead. And there would be climbing on this ride. I didn’t try to keep up. Besides, I can’t take pictures while I’m in the group.

It was a beautiful route but it wasn’t flat. Topanga Canyon was nice but oh, that climb. We would climb 6,000′ in 48 miles.

Volunteer (from Washington) at Rest Stop Two

The longer route for Phil’s Fondo Bonus Day goes over the peaceful Old Topanga Canyon into Fernwood. Take a break on the climb because it’s steep, but tell your friends you just had to get that the photo of the beautiful view of LA. Enjoy a cookie and another amazing photo op at Saddle Peak before you descent Piuma back to the expo.

At Mile 21 in we turned up. The road was a residential area but it was a climb. It would be a five-mile climb. Countless times it looked like the hill would crest. You could see the top of the hill and dreamed of the descent that waited over the hill. But arriving at “the top” the road would turn and keep climbing. And you could see more hill. Repeat. I didn’t research this climb and don’t know that it would have made any difference.

The views from Saddle Peak were gorgeous. The road we took looked like it would take us to the ocean and I think it would have taken us down to the Pacific Coast Highway. But after a mile and one half descent we turned back and began the climb back up (damn him). I thought we would go back to where we had been but the map shows we did not repeat our route in this area.

It was hot. Garmin showed 90° although it may have only been 88°. Rest stop one I ate a cookie. Rest stop two I ate a cookie. I did not take on more water because I had 1/2 bottle and it was ice cold. Topping it off would take off the chill. Although the next stop was eight miles away, five of it was uphill. I ran out of water.

I drank and refilled (with ice) at rest stop three. And it didn’t last me long. I was glad to get to stop four which was a repeat of stop one. And that bottle certainly didn’t last long.

My legs are tired. During the second half of this ride, I made the decision not to do the full Chocolate Chip ride (88 miles) tomorrow. When I got back I asked a woman how her ride was. She said “horrible.” She told me she was going to ride to the beach tomorrow.

She had come from Dallas and I thought it was a little silly to make the trip then ride the baby route (30 miles). But today’s ride would make you do that. I did understand.

Nice backdrop for taking pictures of your favorite girl

This evening I went to a reception. Phil gave me a hug (is he ever skinny). I showed him our first picture and he told me that he remembers what I told him at Mount Washington ten years ago. Toms Skujins, a rider from Trek – Segafredo (Latvia), came over and introduced himself. How refreshing.

Barry and Phil, Mount Washington, New Hampshire, Aug. 15, 2009

I am planning do ride the Sugar Cookie route for tomorrow. It’s 50 miles but with not as much climbing as today. My legs are shot and I know it. And the cookie sits uneaten.

October 26, 2018August 28, 2020

Hillclimb World Championships

SANTA BARBARA, CALIFORNIA

Sometime this week I had a dumb idea. Or three. Ride Palomar. Ride Baldy. Ride the Hillclimb World Championships. On three consecutive days.

If I was serious about putting up a good time I would not have ridden Palomar Mountain and Mount Baldy the day before the championships. Those climbs take everything out of you. But here I was.

My day started at 5:30 a.m. and I went to breakfast at the Homewood Suites in Oxnard at 6:00 a.m. Except breakfast was at 6:30 a.m. So I went to Santa Barbara without breakfast, worried more about checking in on time and not missing my start time.

Got my number on and timing chip on my fork

While serious cyclists warmed up on trainers, many of us seemed to ride on East Cabrillo Avenue. When your group was called we had a police escort for about five miles to the beginning of the climb. I would think that’s enough of a warm up.

I lined up with 11 other cyclists; 10 men and one woman. I didn’t say a word to anyone. Someone asked me if I had ridden this before and I told him I hadn’t. Okay, one word (no). He told me had once before. I didn’t ask him about his experience. Or ask for advice. I wasn’t too conversational.

We rolled out with a police escort and at first I was in the middle of the group. But the road turned up and I decided I wasn’t going to keep their pace before the actual climb began. And I’m sure Baldy and Palomar had something to do with it. A gap developed and I was in the second group of two. And then they passed me and I was by myself. I was dropped before the race began.

There was a guy on a hybrid bike and I was sure I’d see him on the climb. I didn’t. Groups were staged every 15 minutes. The first group was 70+ and Clydesdales (190 lbs). When I registered I could have registered as a Clydesdale but was hoping I weighed less than 190 by today. It wasn’t arrogance that I refused to register as a Clydesdale but wishful thinking. I was in the second group (ages 60-69).

Behind us was the 50-59 group and behind them was the 40-49 group. By the time I reached the official start I had already climbed 1,000 feet. Talk about a warm up.

The route is beautiful. I had thought about stopping for a photo op but decided to keep the phone/camera in the pocket. I thought I was about two minutes behind my group but I would never see them today. Any of them. Even the guy on the hybrid. And the two tandems.

Got passed by the guy in the Speedo. Our ad for VeloGuide. (Believe his name is Pat.)

Then it was ride at my own pace and wait to be caught. It was a 10 km climb and about 6 km to go the first of the fast 50s went by. Pretty much 27 of their 28 riders passed me. Without about 3km to go the fast 40s came by. Looks like 15 of their 24 that started 30 minutes behind me caught me (although all had better times).

I was suffering. Too much climbing the past two days. No breakfast. I was pretending I was in the early break and was called back to wait for my team leader. One can dream.

It was hard. I never thought of quitting but I didn’t have the power and have too much weight. My power to weight ratio is skewed towards weight.

I was passed by men. By women. By a guy on an ElliptiGO. By a woman on an upright cargo bike (although I think she had an electric motor and she wasn’t racing). By a guy wearing only a Speedo.

After I finished, there wasn’t much to do at the top. No activities were at the finish line. Just turn around and descend. I took my time descending. I was recording some riders and wanting to see the pro men. I thought there would be a moto escort so I was surprised to put my phone down after taking some photos and look up and see Phil Gaimon and Peter Stetina flying around the corner uphill.

Now I am left to reflect. If your goal is winning then only Phil was a winner today. Or Phil and Aimee Vasse if you want winner by genders. We are all losers. Some second losers. Some, like me, 175th loser. DFL. In the world.

I am also reminded that I didn’t try and failed. You only fail if you don’t try. (Things losers say)

I rode because I could. Because seven months ago I could not pedal. Because five months ago I woke up in Ohio with no clue how I got there. Because nine years ago I was battling cancer and every day is a blessing so do something epic. And ego more than anything kept me from registering as a Clydesdale. Who wants to admit you are carrying too much weight? But if I had, I would have finished on the podium. Damn me.

From Phil Gaimon (Facebook Page). Credit: John Mahoney

ABOUT GILBRATAR ROAD (from The Complete Guide to Climbing, John Summerson, 2007)

Total Elevation: 3,560′ (1,085 m)
Length: 10.2 miles (16.42 km)
Average Grade: 6.6% (11%)
Rating: 2.40 (Cat 1)
100 Toughest US Climbs: #57

Gibraltar Road is a difficult and scenic climb with great views of the Channel Islands out in the Pacific Ocean. In Santa Barbara, take Mountain Dr. up the hill and stay on Mountain Dr. by turning left at the reservoir. After another 2/10th of a mile turn right on Gibraltar R. which takes you all the way to the top along a very twisty route. The top is along poor pavement and the climb ends (unmarked) by the building with antennas on your left.

The actual race was contested on:
Total Distance: 6.14 miles (9.88 km)
Total Elevation Gain: +2,593′ (790.35 m)
Avg Grade: 8%

EDIT/EPILOGUE – These were “open” championships, i.e., no qualifying necessary. One needed only to sign up and ride. I had met Phil Gaimon, the organizer, 10 years earlier at Mount Washington, New Hampshire. I had been diagnosed with cancer and his dad was dying of cancer. It’s not that we kept in touch over his pro cycling career but he contacted me in the summer and asked if I would “race” in the World Championships. My only condition is that I was permitted to finish – a DFL was okay, a DNF was not. And the way the race was structured, this would be no problem.

I had been diagnosed with an adrenal gland tumor and my endocrinologist told me that would affect my metabolism. I was gaining weight in part because of this tumor and in part because cancer took my prostate and my body was not producing testosterone anymore. But mostly because I liked to eat.

I had knee replacement surgery in February, a traumatic brain injury in May, and was overweight. I did not belong but dammit, Phil asked me to register. So I did. The adrenal tumor and prostate cancer are not excuses – just challenges. And I will (have) overcome those to be in my normal weight range for my height. Bring back the Worlds and I will ride again but next time I can’t register as a Clydesdale.

Riders waiting for the police escort start

October 25, 2018August 28, 2020

Mount Baldy

CLAREMONT, CALIFORNIA

I was warned. In reading John Summerson’s book, The Complete Guide to Climbing (by bike), he wrote that this was the toughest climb in southern California (not sure what is tougher up north). At 13 miles it was the equivalent of the Col du Tourmalet (France).

I read a little about the profile but can’t say I remembered much as I rode. I found a parking lot; a PAY parking lot which sold a four-hour pass for $5. And that, four hours, would become my target. It would have to be.

On the road, and the climb began immediately, I started doing the math. Mostly it was about how long it would take me to get back down and that would leave me with the remaining amount to climb. I wasn’t sure of the length (great planning, huh?) but figured it was 13 or 14 miles. I figured it would take 30 minutes coming back.

And I decided I would take three hours to climb. Knowing that would help immensely the last three miles.

At two miles in I came to an empty dam. I bet this is beautiful when the lake is full. (Actually, it is a dry dam, used only for flood control. Sure would make a pretty lake though.) I only had one water bottle but it was full of ice topped off by one of the small water bottles from the hotel. I carried two small bottles in my back pocket.

I took a dam photo (San Antonio Dam) then poured some water from the small bottle into my water bottle. When I had it filled I went to put the empty bottle in my back pocket and promptly dumped all that ice water on my back/rear. It felt good but it didn’t feel good knowing most of my water supply was already gone. I emptied the second bottle into my water bottle and that would have to suffice on this warm day (70s).

I had decided to ride easy, ride smart. Normally I would not stop but it would be OK for a photo opp. I stopped at the first tunnel. It seemed that every landmark I remembered the road would turn up after that.

Amgen Tour of California sign (lower right) plus they have a water bottle dispenser built into the side wall of the restaurant

The road turns up after the tunnels. The road turns up after Mount Baldy village. It just kept turning up. Early on I saw a sign for “Mount Baldy village – 8 miles.” I wasn’t sure how much farther I would ride after the village but that would be my first target.

Bear crossing – after leaving Mount Baldy village. Didn’t see any bears.

I just kept plugging away. It was hard. When I reached the village I saw the Mount Baldy Lodge Restaurant and a sign for the Amgen Tour of California. I decided it needed a photo. An added bonus was I found a water bottle dispenser so I could fill my empty bottle. I would need it.

Like yesterday, the sweat in my right eye was burning. I was fighting vision issues and rode squinting with the eye closed at times. I thought maybe yesterday it was sun screen and was careful not to apply any above my cheeks. It was my own sweat.

After passing through Mount Baldy village I stopped at a rest area (two outhouses), grabbed some toilet paper, and rinsed off my glasses which were a sweaty mess and made it very hard to see. I was a mess.

I continued up the road and saw a sign for Mount Baldy Ski Area – three miles ahead (5 km). And the road turned up. The road from Claremont to Mount Baldy village is 50 mph with a surprising amount of traffic. Most seemed to stop at the village. Above the village only bears and the occasional car seemed to travel.

Barren parking lot at Mount Baldy ski area

The road really did turn up and I followed switchbacks the entire way. I was watching the clock and wanted to finish in three hours (going up). My cutoff time would be 1:15 p.m. I had one hour to make three miles. Yes, three miles per hour. Or 20 minutes per mile.

I started watching the clock. I would say to myself, in 17 minutes I will check my distance. Fifteen minutes. Eight minutes. After 20 minutes I would check to see if I had gone one mile. And I had. I knew even at this snail’s pace I would make it.

After two and a half miles I came to a campground or picnic area. Exiting it I saw a sign that read “Dead End.” I figured I was close. Right after that, I saw a 15% “ramp” which lasted about a quarter-mile. I had the road to myself and I started to “paperboy” the climb. (Instead of going straight up I went to the left and back to the ride, increasing the distance but decreasing the grade.

I reached the top and there was nothing here. Nothing. I saw a parking lot with more switchbacks and followed those. And then I saw one more ramp, it was closed, but I rode up it anyhow. As far as I could ride and I had done it.

I had fought myself the entire way. This climb was hard. Damn hard.

I started down and saw a rider coming up. Walking. I turned around and climbed up to meet him. He was from Alaska and had biked Alp d’Huez before (I told him this was tougher). He was out of water but declined my offer to have me pour my water into his bottle. He was not that desperate. I told him he had about 200 yards to go.

Then I went down. The top part was pretty technical until back down to the village. I hit speeds in the mid 40s (mph) but was also going into a head wind. Total time down was 30 minutes after a 3 hour ride uphill.

If it’s 15% grade downhil it must have been 15% uphill

And with that, a true bucket list climb was finished. I’ll take it.

https://rwgps-embeds.com/embeds?type=trip&id=29035502&title=Mount%20Baldy&sampleGraph=true https://www.relive.cc/view/1927302192

ABOUT MOUNT BALDY (from The Complete Guide to Climbing, John Summerson, 2007)

Total Elevation: 4,775′ (1,455 m)
Length: 12.9 miles (20.76 km)
Average Grade: 7.0% (15%)
Rating: 3.57 (hors categorie)
100 Toughest US Climbs: #11

This is perhaps the toughest climb in Southern California along a scenic two lane road with a variable grade. The first few miles are fairly shallow with a steeper ramp. The grade increases just after the two short tunnels which appear around the five mile mark. You soon reach the village of Mount Baldy where the grade eases back a bit. Just beyond the village however the true nature of the hill reveals itself as the last four miles average almost 9%. The final section contains ramps of 12-14% through steep switchbacks. The climb ends at the top section of the parking area. Mount Baldy is significantly longer and almost as steep as the famous Tourmalet in France.

The last 300-400 yards just past a campground/picnic area is a straight-up 15% climb. It hurts.

EDIT/EPILOGUE – Mt. Baldy was a bucket list climb for me. The timing was perfect. It wasn’t even good. It was combined with an event the next day – Hillclimb Worlds in Santa Barbara. No serious cyclist planning to race in the Hillclimb Worlds would ride up Mt. Baldy the day before. I did.

October 24, 2018August 21, 2020

Palomar Mountain

PAUMA VALLEY, CALIFORNIA

So much of this ride did not go to plan. I began yesterday afternoon at Jax Bicycles in Murrieta. They were very helpful while letting me pump up my deflated tires from the flight. I got a suggestion to bike from there to Palomar but didn’t really like the way it looked on the maps.

My plan was to go to Pala and ride nine miles to Rincon which would be the start of the 14 mile climb. I parked in Pala and only rode out two miles and did not like Hwy 76. Too narrow, too fast, no shoulders. I went back to the car and drove to Pauma Valley and parked at Pauma Valley Trading Center. I got permission to park and off I went.

I have a display on my Garmin which shows which gear ratio I’m in. Somehow while I slept, it reset to factory defaults and I was having a heck of a time figuring out how to change it. While I rode.

Hwy 76 – Entering LaJolla Indiana Reservation

It really wouldn’t make much difference. Instead of displaying 39/53, I would know it was 34/50. And much of the ride I would know I was in my smallest gear. Still, I was only two miles up the climb when I pulled over and checked out a Garmin Forum for the answer (it’s under Di2 on Bike Profiles). As I was ready to roll, I looked behind me and saw a rider about 100 yards back.

In about half a mile, a young lady passed me. No shame there. My goal today was just to get to the summit. No Strava segments. Even stop for photos if I saw something. About five minutes later two other riders, man and woman, both passed and she looked to be wearing the same kit as the first rider. I thought I might see a team or club but they would be the only three riders I would see all day.

Hwy 76 is sketchy. Period. There is a shoulder most of the way on the climb though. About half way up the climb to Palomar turns off to S6. I stopped for a nature break. I am not ashamed.

Once remounted, I just kept climbing. After the turn off almost all the traffic was gone. My big battle today was my eye. Maybe it was sunscreen but my right eye was burning. With one water bottle I had to decide not to drink some but to rinse my eye out. I rinsed.

The climb is relentless. I’m guessing most of my 5400′ of gain was over the first 14 miles which works out to be 7.3% (it is rated as 6.8%). It was a pretty steady 7% climb.

Out of water and near the top a car almost cut me off to pull into a turn off. The young woman got out and filled up her water bottle. I would have missed it. I stopped. It was a natural spring.

At the top, I climbed a little more to find the State Park. I was looking for a loop ride back to my car on Nate Harrison Grade. When I found it the road was narrow and got smaller. Pavement got bad then turned to dirt. I eventually abandoned that idea as I was not sure the “road” actually would connect back to the main road. And even if it did I wasn’t crazy about descending on a steep narrow secluded road with bad or no pavement. I turned around, climbed out of the state park then began my 14-mile descent back the way I came.

This was a bucket list ride. I should not have ridden just two days before the Hillclimb Worlds Championships in two days. But I only plan to be here once. And I made it.

https://rwgps-embeds.com/embeds?type=trip&id=29011219&title=Palomar%20Mountain&sampleGraph=true https://www.relive.cc/view/1925464215

ABOUT PALOMAR MOUNTAIN (from The Complete Guide to Climbing, John Summerson, 2007)

Total Elevation: 4,735′ (1,443 m)
Length: 13.2 miles (21.24 km)
Average Grade: 6.8% (14%)
Rating: 3.43 (hors categorie)
100 Toughest US Climbs: #13

Palomar Mountain is a very difficult climb, along with Mount Baldy the toughest in Southern California. From tiny Pauma Valley head up the hill on route 76. After six miles turn left on S6 (toward Palomar) and you soon begin to switchback up the hill on an increased grade. At the stop sign turn right on S7 then in 1/10 lies go left on Crestline Rd. In a half mile turn left up to Palomar Mountain County Park for a short, steep finish. This climb is longer and as steep as the standard route up the Galibier, a regular beyond category Tour de France climb.

Note: At the top I did not turn right on S7 to Palomar Mountain County Parl but instead turned left and continued up and eventually to Palomar State Park.

October 6, 2018October 7, 2021

Sea Gull Century

SALISBURY, MARYLAND

Another edition of the Sea Gull Century. It was rainy on the drive in from Ocean City. I found parking at Asbury United Methodist Church although I thought I was still on campus at the time. It was only a problem after the ride when I saw a church and thought that looked like where I parked except I didn’t park at a church. Except I did.

I rolled out to get to the start line which was 3/4 of a mile away. The first group to start was supposed to be pace lines and “other fast riders” although there seemed to be a lot of people at the start waiting for a signal. Probably waiting for friends.

I moved on to the porta-johns, thanks to last night’s pasta loading. There was a loop recording playing stating this was a SHOW AND GO START so when I was done, I went.

I decided not to join any pacelines today and just ride solo. I worked my way past some slow riders and within a couple of miles I was “sitting in” with three other guys. We weren’t tearing up the course; just riding sensibly. The route was safe but crowded. A squirrel could have jumped rider to rider for 10 miles and never touched the ground. It would have also been very tired.

One of the few intersections we did not get waved through by police (who were Great!)

We were passed by a couple of HUGE pacelines. They were flying, probably 30 mph, and must have had close to one hundred riders in each. It was too sketchy for me. I tried it last year for a mile and thought I didn’t know these riders, they’re not professional bike handlers, and one touch of wheels would be disaster. In addition, my knee has been hurting since the Jeremiah Bishop Gran Fondo on Sunday and I didn’t want to push it.

Just over that dune is – the Atlantic Ocean

I went by Rest Stop 1 and eventually was solo. The group I was in and was riding a sensible pace started to break up into ones and twos and was a little too slow for me. I started passing some people and came upon two riders side by side with one woman following. My pace was a bit faster and as I passed the woman I saw a jersey with Colorado climbs. I slowed to talk.

The jersey was from the Bicycle Tour of Colorado. The rider, Sandra, told me she was with two guys but they weren’t going to wait for her. She seemed mentally to be struggling with the thought of today’s century. And she would become my ride partner for the day although I didn’t know it at the time. We rode 3-4 miles to Rest Stop 2 (I had blown by Rest 1). She caught up with her friends at the stop and after I filled my water bottles I looked but she was already gone.

I didn’t think too much of it. We hadn’t ridden together much and after meeting her friends I thought maybe they would pace her. Plus I had bigger problems. My Garmin showed 0.0 miles. Somehow it had reset. I didn’t know what happened to the data (44 miles) and was disappointed that my data might show 60 miles instead of 100.

I rolled out from the rest stop and was riding solo passing some riders and thought I should slow down, let a group pass me, then jump in. And I did that. A group of about 10 rolled by and I latched on. We soon caught Sandra who was up the road riding solo, and I told her that this group was her speed. She joined us. We rolled together to Assateague where she met her friends and introduced me to Greg and her other friend (who has no name).

Greg asked me if I was pacing her and I told her I was. Or he asked if I was waiting for her. So the four of us rolled out of Assateague together. Greg set a pace and when it got too fast for Sandra I would drop back with her. Eventually, a fast paceline came by and Greg jumped in with them. That left me to pace Sandra and soon, 10 others.

Stock photo from Internet;
I was passed by one of these today.

I kept my eye on Sandra and when I got the pace too high, I would back it off. I thought someone, anyone, from the 10 riders on my wheel would come forward but none did. This is the Sea Gull Century where everyone wants a free ride. I’m not complaining, I did that for the first half of the ride. I even purposely slowed the pace thinking it would be too slow for someone and they would come up and pick up the pace. None did. So I towed them all the way to the Rest at MP 80.

When we left there we rode together. Again, Greg was with us then he went when he found a faster group to jump in with. Sandra and I rode sometimes side by side and she expressed amazement that I was just chatting and she said she was struggling. She asked me just to pull her, which I did. (Insinuating, just pull and shut up – LOL)

Sandra entering the finishing underground at Salisbury U.

We pulled into the finish line together. I showed her the “actual” finish and she said, “I’m good.” And then she left. No goodbyes. No thanking me for pacing her for most of the ride. It’s not like I wanted her phone number (she was my kids’ age) but no goodbye. It just seemed like an odd and disappointing way to end. I found the pie and ice cream and found my way back to my car.

I had a good ride. My knee, which had been hurting, wasn’t hurting too bad. Even backing off my pace to ensure Sandra would reach the finish, I was happy with my total time. And then I checked Garmin and saw the missing data was there, saved in a separate ride. I would go to a site called gotoes.org which could take two rides and put them together as one. I did. It worked. One long ride.

The rain in Ocean City at 6:00 a.m. had dried up by the start. It was overcast most of the day with just a brief bit of sunshine. Leaving Assateague we had a bit of “spitting” rain but nothing to make us wet. Occasionally the roads were wet but the overcast kept the temperature in the low 70s and made for a pleasant ride.

And while I may be playing the hero for helping Sandra, in truth, she helped me. I hadn’t done a ride longer than 80 miles this year and my rebuilt knee was hurting. Helping her was really helping me. And she helped me to a great ride.

And some things we talked about:

Ride the Rockies no longer has a lottery but is first-come-first-served
RAGBRAI is mostly a camping event
Trek Travel is a great touring company – go to France
Hot Shot stops cramps
Watch the 2018 UCI World Championships, especially the Jr. Men and Jr. Women’s Races
Phil Gaimon and The Worst Retirement Ever

September 30, 2018September 1, 2021

Alpine Loop Gran Fondo

HARRISONBURG, VIRGINIA

I need to rethink the sleepover component of this event. I stayed at home and got up at 4:30 a.m. to drive to Harrisonburg. Four hours of sleep is not enough.

I arrived at 7:20 a.m. thinking I had plenty of time. I did not. Registration was slower than expected (efficient but there were a lot of people checking in at 7:30 a.m.). Each time I was ready to roll out from the car I seemed to be missing something. Glasses. A spare rear light. Arm warmers.

We were given timing chips to attach to the fork. I took mine to the start then wrapped it around the fork. Around the fork and a spoke. I didn’t notice. There was two minutes before the start. A rider next to me said, “Do you know you have that wrapped around a spoke?” Damn. I had nail clippers to trim the zip ties and cut them off. I simply put the guy in my pocket and off we went through downtown Harrisonburg.

South Fork South Branch Potomac River (WV)

We circled the block then as the group was headed out of town I went back to start and picked up two new zip ties. I then headed through town and saw the tail of the group up the road. I quickly made my way to the end of the group and found Robert Hess. Once I caught Robert we pedaled a little faster and we moved up through the group.

I caught a woman wearing a Spokes of Hope cycling jacket. I told her my other kit was Spokes of Hope and asked her what she knew about Spokes of Hope. She told me the jacket belonged to her father-in-law and “we’re from Pittsburgh.” I asked her if her father-in-law was Dave Mitchell. She was blown away that I knew, or knew of, her father-in-law. We stopped for a photo before the routes would split.

Robert and I rode ahead to the split (Mile 8) where he would turn left (35 miles route) and I would turn right (100 miles route). Because I had to ride to catch the back of the group I was pretty certain I was the last on the road headed to the century route. I wondered if I would catch anyone.

I did catch a few riders before U.S. 33 and the climb over the mountain. I still had not stopped to properly attach my timing chip and decided it wasn’t worth it.* I am still recovering fitness from my knee replacement surgery and I wasn’t going for any KOM (King of the Mountain) segments. Still, I moved the chip from my jersey pocket to the seam in my shorts just above the knee. Maybe it would work.

Looking back at the climb out of Virginia

The descent off the mountain was fast. I made up for my slow ride up with a quick descent. Still, I felt I was more cautious than I had been before May 16. The risk/reward of a couple extra MPH wasn’t worth it.

My shoe didn’t feel right and at the second rest stop, also the base of the Reddish Knob, Kelly, from Rocktown BIcycles in Harrisonburg, fixed my cleat the best she could. She also took a photo of me going up the 18% climb.

As I pulled out of the rest stop, I was side by side with a 15 year old, Ben, from Winchester. He asked me about the climb, having been told it’s not has hard as the climb we did on U.S. 33. I told him it was much harder. Someone lied to him.

Kelly from Rocktown Bicycles and a young volunteer

We kept talking and stayed together for much of the climb. Perhaps two-thirds of the way up I was going faster and did not want to stop. I didn’t know if he stopped or was going slower but eventually I did not see him any longer.

And I felt cramping coming on. This is where a lack of serious riding since my knee surgery was catching up to me. I shouldn’t be cramping and yet I was. When I reached the summit I looked down the road and so no one. There was another rider waiting and he asked if I knew about a scenic overlook. I did not but decided to go up a narrow access road that might lead to one. I had gone about 1/4 mile and was cramping worse. I turned around.

The descent off the mountain was sketchy, Soaked with sweat, I had nothing to clean my glasses. They were foggy and with the rough pavement, I took the descent cautiously.

Reaching the next rest stop, I had a decision to make. Head on home or do a 20-mile loop to finish the century ride. Cramping is a sign of body fatigue and I thought on a day I was cramping it would be dumb to add what was now an optional loop. If I had 40 miles to finish I would suffer but I was 20 miles from the finish and didn’t need to add the loop. Also, Ben was doing the 80 (or 75, whatever it was) and we would stay together.

At the finish, we were greeted by cheerleaders from JMU. Katie Yates, one of my referees who attends JMU, came over and joined us for a post-ride meal. A real surprise was Robert called Ben up to the podium. He had won the KOM for his age group. Since I took him over the mountains I think he owes me one of his polka dots.

After our dinner, I went to stand up. Ouch. The legs hurt. It was a hard day on the bike and without a good fitness base, I made the right decision not to finish the century. Next year!

*Perhaps not the exact measured climb but on RideWithGPS my time in the past has been 30 or 31 minutes. Yesterday it was 40 minutes. Reddish Knob I’ve done in 45 minutes, today was 1:02. I was right. It was not worth race timing.

August 25, 2018August 22, 2020

T-Town 2018

TREXLERTOWN, PENNSYLVANIA

This was the 10th year that Spokes of Hope was invited to Valley Preferred Velodrome in Trexlertown, Pa. In previous years, we had childhood cancer survivors “take a lap” against cancer sometime during the evening races.

We were the pee-wee football team that gets to play on the big field for five minutes of the half-time of an NFL game. Or the midget hockey team that gets five minutes between periods at an NHL game. There is also some down-time between races at the velodrome and Spokes of Hope filled the gap by introducing the childhood cancer survivors.

Take a lap against cancer – Barry and Branon Cooper getting some laps in on the track. PHOTO CREDIT: Kathy Robinson

But it was always a blast for us. For Cindi Hart, she just glowed when she could teach the young kids how to ride on the track even if it was the flat ground-level apron. But that would not happen this year.

Spokes of Hope Memory scarf – Jake “The Hero” Grecco is the first name in the upper left corner

In the past it has never been smooth. We usually didn’t find out until an hour or so before the program when we would go on. But riding the track was only half of it. Spokes of Hope loaded up a trailer and brought a full display and store from Indiana to sell at the velodrome. And some of the mission was just support for people coming by.

Barry Sherry, Linda Baun, Lexi, John Baun

Call it a miscommunication, but we arrived only to be told that we would not be riding on the track. Uh-oh. No worries. We still had the tent plus there was an entire evening of bike races.

My cousins from New Jersey, Stacey Gravina and her family, always come over to see me. That always makes it special. Stacey was the mother of Jake “The Hero” Grecco, one of our heroes.

Stacey Gravina, Raeann Peters, Barry Sherry, Josh Grecco, Gary Gravina, Logan Gravina

But this year was especially hard. I had hoped that my cousin, Kay Walborn, would join us as a cancer warrior. Instead, her name was the latest to be added to the Spokes of Hope banner that Cindi carries with her on rides. Kay lost her battle five days earlier.

Kay Walborn’s name added to the scarf. This sucks.

One of the people that came through was young Lexi. She was diagnosed with Acute lymphocytic leukemia (A.L.L.) in February, 2015, finished treatment May, 2017, and relapsed December, 2017. Lexi – we ride for you!

If Friday is all work, especially if we don’t get to ride), then Saturday is all play. Each year we meet for a group ride out to Topton and back. We meet at The Market Cafe which is quite a neat place situated right next to two train tracks. Unless you’re a railfan, which I am, you probably don’t want to be sipping on a cold drink when a train rumbles by.

The ride is truly one of my favorite rides of the year. It is just fun. But it is also a ride with other warriors – a brotherhood, and sisterhood, that can’t be explained and we don’t want others to join. But if you are diagnosed then we welcome you.

Front: Ken Hart, Cindi Hart. Rear: Barry Sherry, Jay Bodkin, Kathy Robinson, Andrew Werner

We had another great Saturday morning ride. Weather was perfect. Company was superb. I love my Spokes of Hope family.

August 4, 2018January 24, 2024

Stranger on the Road

RICHLAND, PENNSYLVANIA

Each year I look forward to my ride from Somerset to the family reunion near Punxsutawney (which is actually Winebark Park in Canoe Twp., near Rossiter). When my parents lived in Friedens, I barely had enough time to get there. But when they moved to Somerset I just didn’t have enough time to travel there safely before the noon meal. The road from Somerset to Friedens at 6:00 a.m. is just too sketchy.

Rather than leave in the dark, I checked with my nephew, Josh Reese, and parked at the Kia dealership in Richland. It was easy-off, easy-on for access from US Rte 219. When I arrived there was a heavy fog and I delayed my start until I felt safe enough.

Good morning Johnstown! The Inclined Plane.

Leaving the Kia parking lot is a little like riding the Thunderbolt roller coaster at Kennywood Park in Pittsburgh for the first time. Rather than start by pedaling, I almost could take a half pedal turn then coast for three and one-half miles.

Of course, I didn’t do that. It was all downhill and I pedaled most of the way, only occasionally dropping into a tuck and coasting. What a great way to begin a trip. Rather than go through Johnstown as fast as I could I went sight-seeing, mainly taking some photos of the Inclined Plane.

Who doesn’t like a picture of a caboose? (Walnut Street at William Penn Ave.)

The road (Pa. Rte 271) out of Johnstown is through East Conemaugh and up a mountain. But it seems to be graded at a consistent grade, I would guess around 4%, and I always find it easy (although my climb data may disagree). Traffic was mostly good as I went through Mundy’s Corner, Nanty Glo and Twin Rocks up to US 422 at Belsano.

I was on US 422 for less than half a mile then turned on (and stayed on Rte 271). I was surprised about a mile in to pass a bike trail crossing. This was an extension of the Ghost Town Trail. It looks like a nice trail, very lightly traveled, but best for bigger tires and not this road bike. At least for long distances.

This is always my favorite part of the trip – the 13 miles to Northern Cambria. Rte 271 has good pavement, little traffic, and is easy pedaling, with only one climb along the way (up to Nicktown). I could smell the corn in the field. And occasionally, manure.

I stopped at Duman Lake to use a porta-john and also for a photo op. There is a climb to Nicktown which I only later learned was a Strava Segment. I didn’t know I was racing. I will have to come back tomorrow and put up a decent time.*

At Nicktown is a four mile descent to Northern Cambria. On past rides, I have hit 49 mph but today only went to 44 mph and got in a tuck. That was fast enough (and was also the speed limit – 45 mph). I have found that since my crash in Ohio I am more cautious than I have been and I have never been careless.

On the climb up 271 (Blue Goose) towards Nicktown

I stopped in Northern Cambria and saw my cousins, Don and Nancy Lowmaster, and their daughter. I couldn’t stay long but enjoyed the short time we had.

As I was leaving Northern Cambria, I was passed by a truck pulling a trailer with a small tractor on it. The driver got out and as I approached, motioned for me to pull over. This did not feel like an angry setup and I complied. Then he asked if I was “the Barry Sherry.” Well, I admitted as much. But who was that stranger?

The driver was Mike Peronne, the former postmaster in Cherry Tree, Pa. We had never met but we had talked and he knew once a year I rode through here. And he said “and I saw your hair and figured it was you.” LOL. We talked for about five minutes before we both headed up 219 towards Cherry Tree.

The rest of the trip I thought about that interaction with the stranger. Those last 20 miles are the hardest as the road turns heavy and there is a lot of climbing. Steep climbing and grades that don’t remain constant.

The last couple miles are on Porterfield/Canoe Ridge Road and pass a few Amish homes. A little girl in a blue dress excitedly waved to me. Of course, I waved back. As did a boy about 10-12 years old. And a man climbing a ladder. It is always enjoyable riding through this stretch because the Amish are always so friendly to me. I think they relate to cyclists as they ride bikes and we face the same dangers on the road they do whether it’s by bike or by horse. And I am the stranger to all of them.

_____
EDIT/EPILOGUE – I did go back on Sunday. Can’t believe a crappy time on Strava would bug me enough but I could not leave those two climbs (the other Station Road coming out of Twin Rocks) with such bad times. So on Sunday, I went hard, first on Station Road Climb. Since I started at Krispy Kream and basically went downhill to Twin Rocks, the “engine” wasn’t warmed up. Still, I lowered my time from 7:38 to 5:30, a reduction of 23%. When I got to Blue Goose Climb I was warmed up. I went hard and lowered my time from 8:26 to 7:10 which was only a reduction of 15%. Aaah. I’ll never get KOMs on these climbs but at least my name isn’t associated with sucky times anymore. And on my way back, I went through a new segment that I wasn’t aware of. My time sucked. Must go back again.

At least I finished with a good recovery drink. In a cone.

July 22, 2018August 21, 2020

MS-150 Day 2

HOLLIDAYSBURG, PENNSYLVANIA

Yesterday was a day of riding solo. My one attempt at riding in a group had a brief discussion that I initiated.

“Where’s your group from?” (To the Old Men on Bikes)

“Bedford County”

“Well you know these roads. Have you ridden over Locke Mountain?”

“No”

End of discussion. It was going nowhere.

So I ended up riding solo. Knowing I should let a group catch me, part of me thought what was the use. No one was talking except to their friends and I brought no one.

No one asked me about my bib for Bethany, although at the finish I did talk with Ellen Kovacevic about her. We also talked about her and her husband’s recent trip to France with Trek Travel.

Today I started DFL (that means last). Actually, I was last of the riders lined up at 7:00 a.m. to ride. A few may have jumped in after the 7:00 start.

We had rain from 4:00 p.m. yesterday until about 6:00 a.m. this morning. While the forecast was hopeful (15% chance of rain), the roads were wet at 7:00 a.m. It was 55 degrees and I didn’t even think to bring arm warmers. It’s summer. I did have a rain jacket which I put on though.

At the back the group spread out. I “sat in” for four miles until I was finally able to make my way to the front of this back group and go off the front. Of course, all the fast riders and groups were already gone.

I rode on the wet roads, a bit fearful at times. I passed the first rest stop, motoring on to the second one at Camp Kanesatake outside of Spruce Creek. It was 18 miles in before I saw the first section of dry pavement. It would be cloudy, and windy, the rest of the ride, but we were done with the rain.

At the rest stop I was served ice cream by the two Dairy Princesses from Huntingdon County, Brooke Emery and Mikara Anderson. I really enjoy seeing the kids (although Brooke is 21) supporting agriculture. The ice cream, mint chocolate chip, was delicious.

On the road I was solo again. Shortly after leaving camp, I caught and passed five riders then settled in. I was catching no one and no one was passing me.

A thorn between two roses. Brooke Emery (L), Mikara Anderson (R)

I rolled by the lunch stop and saw no one ahead of me the rest of the day. It was almost my personal ride. In truth, there had to have been riders in the first group that weren’t delayed for four miles that did the same thing and were already finishing.

When I was in Altoona, I saw three riders come from another street and get ahead of me. “They cut the course,” I said to myself. I didn’t understand it but when it was raining I thought about the short way to Tyrone to just get to the finish. Ultimately I decided to ride the course as designed, in part so the volunteers didn’t lose track of helping us if we needed it.

Our “normal” return in Hollidaysburg was blocked off by road construction. We were diverted for a mini Tour de Hollidaysburg. It didn’t seem we had to see the downtown but I wonder if the organization wanted us to see Hollidaysburg or for Hollidaysburg to see us. Either way, it was a great choice.

At the finish it was shower, eat (alone) then hit the road. Another MS ride done but I will seriously consider other (closer) events for the future. It was strange connecting with no one.

July 21, 2018August 25, 2020

MS-150

STATE COLLEGE, PENNSYLVANIA

A Tale of Five Segments

First, they had plenty of bibs “I Ride For…” at the start. I had made one ahead of time for Bethany and added one for Kristi Wallace and Kayla Bracken. I was the only one I saw wearing a bib and no one asked me about my daughter from seeing it.

SEGMENT ONE – Hollidaysburg to Roaring Spring (19 miles)

I rolled out in the front group. I don’t know if it was the first 100 (ish) or the entire ride. I settled in and we dropped some slow riders but were going at a steady pace. Each time the group was splitting, usually on a hill, I was able to stay with the front group.

Two riders wearing kits from Spokes and Skis (a sponsor) joined us. I recognized one as Bryan Caporuscio, the owner. It was six years ago I jumped into their group ride and when I asked “Bryan?” he said “Barry!” He had remembered me from that one brief half-ride. I knew that he and his friend, Jeff, would be looking to hammer it today. They moved towards the front but I stayed with them until they caused a split. I was too far back to try to bridge, nor was I up to the effort it would take.

I did find myself at the front of the main group and stayed there until finding a train station in Roaring Spring. It is a ride, not a race, and I went off the front then stopped and grabbed my photo. I was happy I stayed with the group all the way to the first stop until the photo.

My train station photo in Roaring Spring

SEGMENT TWO – Roaring Spring to Williamsburg (15 miles)

I rolled out alone (I rolled out of every stop alone today except for the mass start) and caught seven riders in Martinsburg. I sat on the back for a while. It appeared three (wearing yellow/white) were working and four (wearing blue and black and green) were getting a free ride.

I moved to the front and helped work. In fact, I was afraid I rode them off my wheel but after two miles I discovered they were with me. So now there were four of us. I took my turn until, a photo. Again, I went off the front, exited safely, and went back for the picture.

Martinsburg, Pa. – The blue jerseys are from OMBO – Old Men on Bikes

Back on the road a group (with momentum) passed me. I joined them, eventually went to the front and dropped them. Damn me.

SEGMENT THREE – Williamsburg to Camp Kanesatake (17 miles)

I rolled out alone. The yellow/white group had grown and looked like they were ready to roll. I decided to soft pedal until they caught me then I would join them. They went by and it appeared there were 15 of them plus about five others. I jumped in.

We got blown apart on the first big climb, and I stayed with their three leaders. I found they were not a friendly bunch, at least to this stranger, I eventually let them go and the remnants of their original group came by. I jumped in. I moved to the front to Camp Kanesatake for lunch.

Lunch was at the camp. I got the feeling I was the only one on the ride that wasn’t riding with a friend or partner. I sat with some volunteers. A couple of the white/yellow group had rolled out and when lunch was over, I took off.

Camp Kanesatake is a Christian church camp located in Spruce Creek, Pa.

SEGMENT FOUR – Camp Kanesatake to the famous Cookie Stop (14 miles)

I cleaned up my trash and looked around. It did not appear anyone was leaving that I could join so I took off. My plan was to soft pedal until the group caught me then join them. Here is where two competing aspects of my brain kicked in.

Logical Brain: Soft pedal and they will catch you and you can ride with them

Macho Brain: Don’t let them catch you. You are better than them.

Logical Brain: Let them catch you – you can save 30% of your energy by sitting in the group instead of riding alone

Macho Brain: Don’t you dare let them catch you. Hammer it!

Macho Brain won. Sigh. It’s a struggle I often have.

It was 15 miles and I did not want to get caught. In fact, I ended up catching two riders who had left about five minutes before me. And then was able to enjoy the famous cookie stop. (Truth: I had one chocolate chip cookie given to me by a young girl whose mother had baked it.)

The traditional cookie stop, the parishioners are all in at Halfmoom Christian Fellowship Church, Port Matilda, Pa.

SEGMENT FIVE – Cookie stop to State College (13 miles)

I stopped to talk to the volunteers at the entrance/exit and the four young kids. I left the message with the kids to always wear a helmet when they ride. In the meantime, a group of five or six guys took off. They were one minute up the road.

I thought about going full in to try to catch their group but decided to ride my own pace. Their group dropped two (blue riders) and I had them in sight. For a couple of miles I could see I was 35 seconds behind. And then it came down quickly. Twenty seconds. Ten seconds. And a catch. I joined them, stayed with them for about a minute, then went to the front to work. I dropped them. Rode solo to the Penn Stater.

I beat the rain although it doesn’t look I will be so fortunate tomorrow. This was my longest ride of the year, derailed first by knee replacement and then by a memory-loss crash and concussion. So I am happy. Very happy.