Author: barrysherry

I love cycling. I hate cancer. I love to climb big mountains but I am more enthusiastic than talented (with apologies to Will). I've ridden in the Pyrenees, Alps, and Dolomites. I've climbed Mount Evans, Colo (twice) and raced in the Mount Washington Auto Road Bicycle Hillclimb (nine times).
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Carbondale

CARBONDALE, COLORADO

The day started out beautiful. Terry Moran and I left our hotel in Brighton, Colorado for the one-hour drive north to Fort Collins for the start of my 4th Ride the Rockies.

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I-70 (by bus) in Glenwood Canyon

Arriving Fort Collins, we were directed to a parking lot across from the Odell Brewing Company, which was the official ending point of RTR. We loaded our bikes on a truck and then boarded a bus for transport to Carbondale, the official start town of Ride the Rockies.

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I-70 West

The bus headed south to Denver then picked up I-70 and took that west. We had secured front-row seats on the bus and had awesome vistas. I had traveled as far as Idaho Springs before but that was the farthest west I had been on this highway.

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Carbondale, Colo.

This was my first time through the Eisenhower Tunnel and the view was spectacular. We went over Vail Pass and I was marveling at the bike path that was sometimes next to I-70. We followed I-70 through Glenwood Canyon, truly an engineering masterpiece.

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Our route took us to Glenwood Springs which looks like a nice place to visit someday. We went through Glenwood Springs and made our way to Carbondale. The sunny skies soon turned gray.

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Logistically, Day 0 is always the toughest at RTR. We went to the registration tent and got our credentials. Then we took our luggage and boarded a bus to our hotel. After dropping the luggage off at the hotel and waiting 20 minutes for the rain to subside, we took a bus back to RTR headquarters and picked up our bikes. The rain had stopped.

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I’m not sure what happened next. I told Terry I was going to go for a bike ride although I wasn’t leaving from the school. I had a backpack that I needed to offload. I followed a trail down to the hotel, stopping at a Subway for a sandwich to take back to the room.

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With gray skies, I set out on my “explorer” route. I had studied some maps and had a general idea where I was headed but wasn’t entirely sure. I found the Rio Grande Trail which is a rail trail built on the old Denver & Rio Grande Western Railroad. It connects Glenwood Springs with Aspen and runs 42 miles.

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I followed the rail trail until it moved away from the main road. Then I jumped on the road and began climbing. I had planned to follow the road until I reach Crystal Springs Road but once I did I kept going instead. The road continued up and simply looked interesting.

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A view from Panorama Drive

I came to a road called Panorama Drive. Who would want to follow that? Me, that’s who. I rode that for about five miles until I was back at the entrance. I then turned and found Crystal Springs Road. What a wild descent that was. All fun all the time. It was five miles of nothing but downhill. Glorious downhill.

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Reaching Highway 82 I trusted my instincts and went left. Looking at a map later, right would have worked even better. But left got me seven miles instead of two back to the hotel. My instincts were a little off.

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This simply allowed me to retrace some of the earlier route although I was confused about why I ended up there. But more riding. Back at the hotel, we got ready for an early night with an early rollout in the morning.

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Lodging was at the Days Inn. Mostly good but the bathroom was extremely tiny. Ride the Rockies starts tomorrow!

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Never Been Out of the Cul de Sac

LEESBURG, VIRGINIA

My grandsons haven’t been riding bikes long. So my daughter, Bethany, sort of freaked out when I told her I would take them on a 4-mile ride on the W&OD Trail. “They’ve never been out of the Cul de Sac” she said.

I tried the calming response. “They would be with me.” Didn’t help much.

But they all came around to it We met right off the trail at Simpson Circle near Clarks Gap. I sat down with the boys and gave them my safety talk. We will stop at stop signs. There are only three on this route but I would go into the intersection, wearing my neon-green safety vest, and stand while they crossed. Don’t cross the yellow line unless we have to pass a walker or runner and then I would go first.

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Aiden, followed by Andy, going under Rte 9 at Clarks Gap

Aiden, 6, went off first. He takes to riding like he does most things athletically. He is pretty good and you have to protect him from himself. Bethany said sarcastically “we are working on building his confidence.” Andy, 8, is a little unsteady on the bike. Maybe he resembles his mother in that respect as she was slow to learn and then unsteady. That’s why we abandoned our ride ride half way down Cadillac Mountain when she was nine years old.

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Aiden

After a mile we came to a little uphill portion at Clarks Gap. Andy walked it. His seat was way too low and I adjusted it so he could get some power from his legs. Then we began the downhill.

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Andy with Aiden far ahead down the trail

This is a three mile stretch that goes to Leesburg. Some pedaling is necessary though but it’s easy pedaling. We stayed in our lines the entire way down. The trail isn’t crowded at this point and the few people who passed us generally encouraged the boys.

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We reached Catoctin Circle where Bethany was waiting for us. Then we went to lunch at Andy’s Pizza in Leesburg. Both boys said it was too easy and they wanted to ride more. Good boys!

 

 

 

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My Ride For Dad

ALTOONA, PENNSYLVANIA

We got devastating news this morning. Meeting with team doctors from Conemaugh Hospital, they broke the news to us that my dad, who fell three weeks ago, had a 5% chance of walking again. It was a punch in the gut.

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As we were left to process this I decided to take advantage of the beautiful weather. It was in the high 50s, a bit on the cool side, but a sunny day. After seemingly weeks of rain, it was a welcome change.

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I pulled into a Sheetz parking lot. I bought a water then asked the manager if I could park for 90 minutes and go for a ride. She said “of course” and told me she remembered me from last year.

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Manager (in black) who helped me out

This is my go-to route. My happy place. I first rode it seven years ago as my escape from battling cancer. It was the one challenge that could take my mind of cancer.

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The ride is gorgeous. Three lakes, a 200-foot tunnel, then a 4-mile climb with an 18% wall that continues for half a mile. What a great ride.

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Blue lake and orange mine drain water. They don’t mix.

I approached Horseshoe Curve and something was missing. Trees. They had clear-cut the area around the curve. It was disappointing. I went inside the gift shop at Horseshoe Curve. I asked about the clear-cutting and the young woman inside told me they had a grant to remove all the trees. She mentioned Norfolk-Southern but I didn’t pick up if the railroad drove the removal or not. It was hard to see the trains passing through before the trees were cut.

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Lake 3. Horseshoe Curve in background. Clear cut.

I went through the tunnel and the climb began in earnest. I had come to escape the thoughts of my dad not walking but it didn’t work. There was a strong wind in my face before the tunnel and all I could think of was my dad. Wind in your face is nothing to curse but to praise. What I would give so that he could have the wind in his face.

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I started the climb. I brought the wrong bike. My other bike is geared better for climbing steep climbs. But I said I could do this.

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Horseshoe Curve and some mine water drainage

I went up the climb, legs burning, just hoping my dad could feel pain in his legs. That maybe my pain could help his. He was on my mind all the way up the climb.

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At the summit, I rode over to Tunnel Hill. I looked and thought the time was already one hour in and I was halfway done. No way I would be back in 90 minutes total.

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The Wall. Much steeper than it looks.

I started down Sugar Run Road. I thought of my post-cancer ride with Scott Scudamore and how we bombed this descent. Twice. I was hitting 45 mph. There were some crosswinds. But it was a great ride back down the mountain.

I did get back in less than 90 minutes. My go-to ride was nice but it did not get me thinking less about my dad. The reality set in that our ride in October was probably our last ride together.

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Little Miami Scenic Trail II

SPRINGFIELD, OHIO

I left this morning for Pennsylvania with another bad weather forecast but surprisingly, as I passed Springfield, it was dry but mostly sunny. The weather forecast was showing a couple of hours with only a 15% chance of rain. I parked at Beatty Station just south of I-70 in Springfield.

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It was 9:00. I met a guy named Dave getting his bike out. We chatted briefly. He told me he was waiting for his group. They would ride to Yellow Springs and back. He also volunteered that I might see them on the trail.

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I headed north to Springfield. I wanted to see how far the trail would go. No far, I learned. When it became a signed road route I decided to turn around and ride south.

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I passed Dave and his cycling friends still getting ready. The trail here is wooded. There are few intersections and just a straight wooded trail. Very pretty. In this section , unlike the southern section, it does not follow the Little Miami River.

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Five miles in a came to Yellow Springs. My impression was this was a Bohemiam community. The downtown had neat buildings including a lot of art shops.

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I continued on the trail. I went under a pretty neat covered bridge. The smell of lilacs permeated the woods.

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I arrived in Xenia then turn around. Or maybe the outskirts of Xenia. But I wanted to get back to Pennsylvania and this was far enough.

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On my return I found the covered bridge and decided to jump on the road. I was disappointed to discover the covered bridge was just two years old (2014). Oh well. It will be historical in 98 years.

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In Yellow Springs I caught the cycling club. I had gone to Xenia. They had gone to Yellow Springs, one third of the distance I had ridden. I saw Dave again and then made my way through the group and eventually back to the car.

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This trail is the third longest paved trail in the U.S. at almost 80 miles. It would be fun to come back and ride the entire route.

 

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Great Miami River Trail Part II

PIQUA, OHIO

I began the day riding part of the Great Miami River Trail in Dayton. That did not go so well as the trails next to the river in Dayton were covered with mud and/or under construction.

Great Miami Trail between Troy and Piqua
Great Miami Trail between Troy and Piqua

That led me to this tried and true route (once before). I parked in Troy and headed to Piqua. The trail in this section is in great shape. Great asphalt and no roots. There were two puddles one had to go through caused by all the rain of the last 10 days.

Miami-Erie Canal (on left) - Photo Aug 2015
Miami-Erie Canal (on left) – Photo Aug 2015

Towards the end of the trail I passed a watered section of the Erie – Miami Canal. Then I head out Hardin Road to Lockington.

Barn on N. Hardin Road
Barn on N. Hardin Road

I passed the Lockington Dam which has certainly fallen into disrepair. But I guess it lasted 80 years.

Lockington Dam
Lockington Dam

I stopped briefly and posed for a photo in front of the house where I lived 50 years ago. A teenage girl walked by with her mother or grandmother.

Lockington, Ohio – 1966. Brenda, Bernie, Betsy (being held), Naomi, Brad, Harry, Barry

I almost asked the older woman if she lived in the house next door 50 years ago but they were engaged and I missed that opportunity. But it was 50 years ago on the same sidewalk that I remember my dad sitting on my bike.

Old E.U.B. Church Parsonage, Lockington, Ohio
Old E.U.B. Church Parsonage, Lockington, Ohio

The road back in to Piqua was in great shape and surprisingly little traffic. Fifty years ago I would ride my bike on this road and not even be aware of cars. I guess when you’re 10-12 years old you don’t think about that those things. You just know cars won’t hit you. Or you just don’t think about it.

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In Piqua I crossed the Great Miami River on N. Main Street. This is a pretty city. A neat downtown and a beautiful old building, the “Orr-Statler Block” building.

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The Great Miami Trail is a river trail that comes into the city. There is also a rail-trail, Piqua’s linear park. The old Pennsylvania Rail Road (then Conrail) ran east-west and crossed town via a high trestle. There are stairs leading up to the trestle which one can bike across.

Entrance to the trestle at Linear Park
Entrance to the trestle at Linear Park

Trestle at Linear Park
Trestle at Linear Park

Leaving town to the south, one passes a waste water treatment plant. Not observant enough to take a photo of sewage, I noticed what looked to be an atomic dome. This was apparently the location for the first municipal atomic plant in the 1960s. Piqua was the first atomic powered city although that didn’t last long.

Bridge over Great Miami River, Piqua
Bridge over Great Miami River, Piqua

The last five miles back to Troy were pleasant. On this section of the trail one can make out an area next to the trail that was the old Miami-Erie Canal.

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It has been reclaimed by the forest but the unnatural depression in the earth gives it away. This section was a much better section than in the city of Dayton. This was a nice trail and great diversion to the Lockington Loop.

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Great Miami River Trail Part I

DAYTON, OHIO

I was excited about riding the Great Miami River Trail in the Dayton area. I wanted to ride next to the river and find the Wright Cycle Co., the historical museum site for the Wright Brothers.

Dayton Aviation Heritage National Historical Park
Dayton Aviation Heritage National Historical Park

I  also wanted to visit the Dayton National Cemetery. I have two distant relatives buried there and my cousin, Patricia Lawmaster, posted that yesterday would have been her mother’s 93rd birthday. I wanted to get some photos for my genealogical database and for Patricia.

Stella Ruth Gallagher, Patricia's mother
Stella Ruth Gallagher, Patricia’s mother

I thought I would park at Deeds Carillon Park in Dayton. I figured it was safe and, as an added bonus, was probably 50 years since we visited as a family. It might be neat to see it again.

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Ashley Snow (R), National Geographic's American Genius
Ashley Snow (R), National Geographic’s American Genius

I drove out to the Dayton National Cemetery. I found my gravestones then headed towards Deeds Carillon Park. On the way I looked up and was besides the Wright Brothers’ Museum. It was a no-brainer, I would park there. There would be no Deeds Park for me today.

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Last year National Geographic aired a series called American Genius. The episode called “The Contest for Human Flight” documented the Wright Brothers vs Glenn Curtiss “the World’s Fastest Human.” My daughter, Ashley Snow, had a cameo appearance walking past the Wright’s bicycle shop. I knew I needed a photo in the same location.

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Period house down the block. Not sure if it’s 120 years old or made to look like it.

I went into the visitor center and as greeted by a nice government worker wearing a beige and green uniform. She told me that this museum was covered the Wright Bros. up to their flight at Kitty Hawk. There was another museum across town that covered post flight Wright Bros. She also told me that in all, Orville and Wilbur owned five different bike shops at different times.

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One must cross Wolf Creek as it flows into the Great Miami River on this narrow path

She called another ranger, Casey, to come open up the shop for me to tour. I wish I had asked a question about the history of the building. Which shop was this? Then what, store? Warehouse? Residence? Vacant Building? What involved in getting it restored? Oh well, maybe I have to go back.

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Building a river experience

After touring the Museum, I headed out to find the trail. I only went a few blocks before I was at the river. I found stairs down and then started up the trail. Many blocks in this area were closed but this was open. I didn’t go far before I saw how crappy the trail was. Rocks. Mud. Three to four inches deep at times. It was not enjoyable and I soon climbed out of the river basin.

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Rough pavement ahead

I made my way into the city of Dayton although it was more like dipping my toes in Lake Erie. I didn’t see much. I found the trail on the east side of the river and it was torn up too.

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This section trashed my bike

But I finally found a way out on the trail and rode north. I knew I’d be riding later in the day and didn’t want to go too far. The trail became more remote. The farther from the city the better it was.

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Dayton, Ohio

I passed a golf course named Kitty Hawk G.C. Wonder if North Carolina knows?

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I turned around. I mostly retraced my ride back to the Wright Bros. Museum. Once finished it was off to find my favorite part of Dayton – Skyline Chili.

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Little Miami Scenic Trail I

LOVELAND, OHIO

The weather here, and in most of the East, has been bad. It rained all day yesterday and initially was forecast to rain all day today. But at 8:00 when it was still dry I called my friend, Bob Berberich, and told him if we met by 9:00 we could get in two hours’ of riding before the rain.

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Loveland, Ohio

Bob suggested we meet in Loveland, Ohio and off I went. This is a lovely old town which begs for more exploration but not today. We met and Bob showed me the Little Miami Scenic Trail.

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The Little Miami Scenic Trail is a rail trail that follows the route of the old Little Miami Railroad. In this section, which we rode to Morrow, the trail followed the Little Miami River.

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Very pretty. The trail was in excellent shape. Great pavement, no roots.

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About two miles from our return it started to rain. No worries. I got out my rain jacket but never put it on. Just a light rain and we got out two hours in before the heavy stuff would come.

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After a good ride it was time for some post-ride nourishment. When in Cincinnati, you must go to Skyline Chili.

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Skyline Chili – 3-Way

Insert Map

 

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Please Don’t Shoot Me

EAST FREEDOM, PENNSYLVANIA

Seven years ago, almost to the day, I parked in East Freedom and rode up Blue Knob for the first time. Today’s circumstance would be different.

I was traveling to visit my father in the hospital in Johnstown and I thought this would be a nice way to honor him. Needing gas, I filled up at the Sheetz in East Freedom and then requested permission to leave my car for 90 minutes for a ride. Permission granted.

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I rode over to the house that we lived in in 1958-1961. I took a couple of pictures then headed up Rte 164 towards Portage. The climb begins almost immediately although the first couple of miles it is mostly in the 3-4% range.

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It is a highway, but a mountain highway. The road has no shoulders but relatively little traffic and all gave me a wide berth when passing. The upper portions seemed to hold steady in the 10-12% grade but with the curves none of the traffic was going too fast either.

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At the top I stopped for a photo op with Lady Liberty. The surprise is no longer there as it was seven years ago but it’s nice to take a picture.

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From the top it’s all downhill to Newry. The road was a little rough but a nice ride. I wore arm warmers and was glad as it was a little chilly on the descent.

I continued past Newry to Reservoir Road then headed back to East Freedom. It wasn’t a long ride, just 21 miles, but all that I had time for. One good mountain climb and a quick visit to one of my childhood homes.

I drove to Somerset, picked up my mother, then we went to Johnstown. In the hospital I showed my dad the picture of that house and he was glad to see it. That made the ride very worthwhile.

 

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Missing the Group Ride

WARRENTON, VIRGINIA

In a nutshell here was my day. I arrived 10 minutes early at the commuter lot. Wrong commuter lot.

Made it to the right one as they were pulling out. I left eight minutes later, did not grab a cue sheet instead relied on Garmin. That did not work. I soon “lost the scent” and decided to do my own ride. Cramps. First cramps in a year. Not enough water.

Was caught five miles in by 23 year-old from Shippensburg University. I told him my name but he never told me his, so it will be “Aaron.”

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Aaron asked where I was riding and I told him “nowhere – just riding.” We talked and rode for the next 25 miles. He had raced yesterday and was doing a recovery ride. I refereed yesterday and was just “finding my legs.”

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Aaron and I rode side by side where the road permitted and took turns in the wind. He had also downloaded the turns to the PPTC ride to his Garmin and they were working. Out of the blue he says, “do you know where you are in case I should happen to drop you?” I laughed and assured him that I could figure out how to get back to Warrenton. And off he rode, never to see him again.

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I rode and eventually caught four guys with the ride. I stayed in their group until four miles from the end when one guy said something really jerky to me. I backed off, thought about what I might say, and when I arrived back I kept my cool, did not call him a name but told him that was a jerky thing to say. Taken aback, he didn’t quite apologize but told me he was kidding. I didn’t believe it.

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My legs felt horrible today. I refereed yesterday, ate two hot dogs for dinner, did not eat breakfast, had one water bottle on the bike. What, was I supposed to do it differently?

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Crashing the White House

WASHINGTON, D.C.

Nine hundred and ninety-one days. That’s the number of days it has been since I last crashed which was on July 3, 2013. I broke my collarbone that day.

Today was to be simple. Real simple. We got a call yesterday that a foreign exchange student on her way home to Denver was stuck in New York since Denver got hit with 18″ of snow. Could she come stay with us for a few days? We said yes to picking up Katrin Bunke from Germany and, as a bonus, her friend, Kaede Furusawa from Japan, too.

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Katrin on the Mt Vernon Trail

So what to do with two foreign exchange students “stranded” in the DC area? Go for a bike ride, of course. We had the added bonus of 80° (27° C) and the cherry blossoms at their peak. I asked Terry Moran if we could borrow a bike from his wife, Patty. He agreed. They agreed. We met Terry and Patty, picked up the bike then drove to Daingerfield Island for our adventure to see the cherry blossoms.

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We left the lot and rode to Gravelly Point, stopping to watch the airplanes fly over us, landing just a few hundred meters away. We made our way across the 14th Street Bridge and stopped at the Jefferson Memorial. As I was coming to a stop I saw Kaede stop and was talking to some students. These were her friends from the YFU trip in New York. They had added a Washington, D.C option to their trip but as it turned out, Katrin and Kaede got it for free.

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Cherry blossoms at the Tidal Basin

We rode up to the Lincoln Memorial where Patty and the girls walked up inside the memorial while Terry and I waited with the bikes. We then directed the girls to the Vietnam Memorial where they walked down and visited. We stopped briefly at the World War II Memorial then made our way over to the White House.

Katrin and Kaede
Katrin and Kaede

We circled the Ellipse and as Terry tried to stop for a photo-op he was directed by the Secret Service to keep on moving. So we all did. I came to the transition between street and sidewalk. And lurking there, unbeknownst to me, was a 3/4″ lip that was parallel to the street. As I turned my wheel it did not. I came crashing down on my left side, landing hard on my hip and elbow. Nothing broke but I had road rash mostly on my elbow. But my ego was shattered.

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Bike taxi

We went to the north portico of the White House so the girls could get a photo-op, which had been denied them on the south side. We then got on the bike lane on Pennsylvania Avenue and rode over to Ford’s Theater. We were hoping to get them inside but there was an hour wait.

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Outside the Lincoln Memorial

Checking the time we decided it was best to call it a day. We headed out, carefully maneuvering through traffic and people to get back over to the 14th Street Bridge where one could ride without the crowds. A 15 mph headwind actually felt pretty good the last four miles back to the car.

For the girls who aren’t used to riding, the sunshine and 25 km (15 mi.) was enough of a ride. For me, it was enough of a ride too. With bruises and road rash, well, let’s just hope it’s another three years before I hit the pavement.*

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