barrysherry - peaceonabike

April 28, 2014July 23, 2015

Stop and Smell the Roses

ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA

I saw a post on Saturday on my friend, Brad Hancock’s, Ocean to Bay 100k ride which asked “what was your speed?” Too many times cyclists, especially road cyclists, measure rides in terms of speed.

Unfortunately, I read years ago on RoadBikeRider.com the then author stating that “no ride that doesn’t average at least 15 mph is worth it.” I haven’t been able to shake that notion but on some of my favorite rides I have averaged under 15 mph. I have been with a slow group or by myself and just took the time to appreciate what was around. Today was one of those rides.

Barry and cousin, Christy Larson

I did a modified “Airport Loop.” The full loop encompasses the Washington & Old Dominion (WOD), Custis, Mount Vernon, and Four Mile Run Trails. This one was a little different.

Barry and cousin, Christy Larson

When I reached Columbia Pike I turned onto the pike and rode to the Sheraton Pentagon City. Note to self: Columbia Pike is not a great bike route. There I met cousins Christy and Evan Larson. Although I have corresponded off and on for years with Christy, this was our first time meeting in person.

From the Sheraton I was a little unsure where I was going. Well, I knew where I could go but decided to try something a little different. I dipped into the Pentagon parking lot not knowing if there was a good way out to the north but knowing I could cut across to the Mount Vernon Trail.

In the parking lot I met two young people on City Bikes studying a map. I rode up to them and asked where they were looking to go. They said Arlington National Cemetery so I told them I would take them there.

Two Visitors from Zurich Switzerland

They were from Zurich, Switzerland. I told them I would be there in July. They told me to have fun and eat plenty of chocolate. Don’t worry my friends, I will.

I dropped them at the cemetery main gate then followed a bike path to the Netherlands Carillon which is between Arlington Cemetery and the Marine Corps Memorial (Iwo Jima). There were beautiful vistas here, overlooking the Potomac River and Washington, D.C. I stopped to “smell the roses.” Actually I took a lot of pictures.

Rather than held over to the Custis Trail I decided to see where the bike lane in Rosslyn (or is it Ballston?) took me. Other than the 4-5 cars that were stopped (parked) in the bike lane, it was a pleasant trip through the city — a little different than the trail that I am frequently on.

In Benjamin Banneker Park in Falls Church I stopped and watched a few minutes of U10B soccer. Well, mostly I watched the referee and was glad he wasn’t one of mine.

Wear referee socks, dude

On the section of the W&OD that is parallel to Shreve Road, I was passed by two riders. Granted, one was when I came to a stop to cross the road and the first rider did a sling shot move around me. My thought was they were big riders, maybe at the start of their ride. I didn’t try to stay with them. I was on a relaxing ride.

But in another half mile I saw them start the climb up to I-66. I knew with a 100 yard head start I wouldn’t see them again but I jumped onto the road and and quickly overtook both. Now that felt good. And I never saw them again – I left them behind. On a day in which I rode slow, enjoyed the scenery, met cousins, I surprised myself by overtaking these two strong riders.

In the end, a great day. I didn’t even average 15 mph. Not all rides are about speed. But this was a great ride.

April 5, 2014August 5, 2021

Key West Friends

BALTIMORE, MARYLAND

I went to Baltimore to see a couple of friends who were riding (mostly in a car) from Baltimore to Key West. I did this ride last year, and while I couldn’t ride this year, I wanted to see this year’s group.

I invited two cancer warriors to join me on the trip and then I didn’t go. Cindi Hart, from Indianapolis, and Dave Wagner, from Orange, California were there and ready to go. I hadn’t met Dave in person although we have been cyber friends for four years and it was great to finally meet him in person.

The riders formed a dedication circle where each rider could offer a dedication for the day. Dave surprised me by dedicating his day to Jake the Hero Grecco. And I already knew that Cindi would dedicate the day to Jake since she showed me the flag she is carrying to Florida. She did surprise me by also dedicating the day to me. I only wish I was in the circle so there would have been three dedications for Jake.

Cindi Hart (third to right, with sunglasses)

It was strange, almost surreal, seeing riders only in a dedication circle. Any cancer ride I have participated in everyone present was invited to join in but this group chose to be exclusionary. Well, I’m sure the group didn’t make that decision.

The group left Race Pace Bicycles and we rolled down to the Inner Harbor. By “we” I mean, yes, I rode with them.

I had thought about what kit, what cancer kit, to wear and decided against my kit from last year’s ride. One reason was if I showed up wearing what everyone else was wearing I did not want to be confused with being a rider for this year. So I chose my Spokes of Hope kit to honor Cindi and because, well, it’s awesome.

As we rode to the Inner Harbor, Cindi and I slowly made our way to the front of the group to pick up the pace because it was cold and we weren’t producing body heat. At the Inner Harbor Groups #2-5 loaded their bikes to drive to their starting points. Since I was parked in Baltimore, I jumped in and rode out with Group #1.

The group I rode out with included Paul Lemle, Leslie Nissemberg, Dean Halberg, Marti Howard plus one other rider, and was supported by Dave and Alex Wright. Leaving Baltimore we went over one cobblestone street plus an open grate bridge. Paul flatted before Mile 5. What a start!

Once finally rolling, Craig Babst, another alum from last year’s ride (and my 5th cousin), drove by us as we were on the BWI Trail, honking his horn and yelling support.

We rode on trails I had never been on and time was rolling by. You could see the flags whipping but felt no wind. I knew we were being pushed by a tailwind and I would fight it going back. I looked for a spot where I could say goodbye but they kept pushing on. We approached Dave and Alex at an intersection on the trail and I don’t think our group slowed down. I announced loudly I was leaving and turned around.

Then it was the adventure of finding my way back because I knew I could not trace back the way we came. Nor did I want to ride across that rough bridge. I figured the BWI Trail would take me to a spot I knew and it did, but not before getting run into by a girl on a longboard who fell and took a nasty spill right in front of me. She didn’t hit me but her longboard did.

But I was at a spot I could find my way. It was chilly, and the winds were strong going back but it was a day supporting cancer fighters. Any day like that is a good day on the bike.

March 23, 2014July 23, 2015

Wind and a Hillclimb

ALTOONA, PENNSYLVANIA

If January was cold (it was) and February was worse (it was), March has been brutal. I rode few miles outside on the bike because weekly there seemed to be a new snow storm.

Today I drove to see my nephew, Parker Sherry, play in the Pennsylvania High School hockey championship at Penn State. It was a 70 degree day at home but only near 50 degrees (10C) in Altoona. Plus there was a strong wind.

Parker Sherry

On the way back I stopped at Altoona. I stopped at the Sheetz on 58th Street and asked if I could leave the car. The manager graciously said yes and thanked me for asking permission.

Sheetz on 58th Street

My plan was to ride to the Curve and, if it wasn’t too windy, to the top of the mountain. Most of us say that given the choice between riding up a steep hill or into heavy winds we will choose the hill. Today I had no choice. I got both.

Strong headwinds from the start made climbing harder. I reasoned the winds would get easier once I reached the tunnel as I would be sheltered by trees and the mountain itself. And if it was unsafe I could turn back.

I climbed, both upward and into a strong wind, and past the three lakes that are part of the reservoir system for Altoona. All still had ice on them.

Ice on the Lake

Although one must climb to reach Horseshoe Curve the climb is 1-2% then 2-3% and then 3-4%. The real climb begins only after going under Horseshoe Curve through the tunnel. Then the grade starts at 4-5% then goes 6-7% and increases until it kicks up to 12, 14, and then 18%.

Tunnel under Horseshoe Curve
One viaduct for the road and
the second is for mine drainage water

Virginia’s winter road dirt is sand. Pennsylvania’s, or western Pennsylvania’s, is gravel. Maybe not real gravel but something worse than sand. The sides of Glenwhite Road were covered with it. Climbing, it made getting out of the saddle a little sketchy for fear the wheel would slip. Thankfully there was very little traffic on this road.

Still lots of snow. And gravel.

I struggled. Maybe my memory is short but I thought today was the most difficult climb I’ve had here.

My goal had been to reach the top of the climb. I had already decided against the loop route going across the summit ridge at Gallitzin and down Sugar Run Road because of the high winds. Those are both exposed and I have almost lost control on windy days descending Sugar Run Road.

Some of the snow runoff on Glenwhite Road

Once at the top I turned around. What is normally an all out tuck and roll became a little scary. There still is a lot of gravel on the road. To apply the brakes too much risks causing the wheel to slide and I didn’t want that. So I took the descent with a little more speed than I wanted, given the conditions, but 10 mph less than I do in good conditions. And it was cold.

I was glad I grabbed the knee warmers and long finger gloves. I almost wished for the descent I had my balaclava too.

Once back through the tunnel and back to the Curve it was smooth sailing. The road was better and speed was no issue. And it was great to have ridden another day up the Wall.

March 3, 2014July 23, 2015

The Happiness of Pursuit

BRENTSVILLE, VIRGINIA

The temperature was forecast to reach almost 60 degrees — before a massive winter storm was to arrive around 4:00 p.m. I wasn’t looking for a long ride but checked the Potomac Pedalers’ website and found one at Brentsville that left at 11:00 a.m. The time was 10:40 a.m.

I grabbed my stuff and jumped in the car. When I arrived the group was gone but I had wheels down at 11:10 a.m. There were cue sheets on one of the cars and I grabbed one. I saw their route and knew a shortcut that I could take and intercept them. But I decided it would be more of a challenge to chase. So I followed their exact route.

Around Mile 15 I spotted a couple of riders and slowed a little so as not to catch them. Too early for a catch. Finally at Mile 19 I caught one rider then a second. I caught the group at an intersection. And then it hit. What now? Ride with a group that was butt slow that I caught? They went straight. I went right.

I enjoyed the happiness of pursuit but like a dog, it wasn’t so great once I caught them. I enjoyed the solo ride.

The temperature crashed almost at once. It went from 57 to 42 degrees almost immediately. Although it was party sunny at start, it turned gray and was getting darker. I really thought the cold rain was coming in later in the day.

I wasn’t sure where I was and without the sun, my sense of direction wasn’t helping. Actually it was. I have a good sense of direction which at times means that something isn’t right. I sensed I was going in the wrong direction if I wanted to get back to the car quickly. My Garmin has a direction indicator and when I saw I was headed south I turned around.

At a post office and store which proudly proclaims “You Are Now in Downtown Somerville” I asked a woman for directions to Brentstown Road. Once she confirmed my directions I pedaled off and it started to rain. Cold rain. It was bouncing off my helmet. I had no jacket. I was dressed for 57 degrees.

I worried about – my phone. I even made a decision before I left home not to grab a Ziploc bag for my phone. That was a mistake. I pulled over, it was the only time other than asking the woman directions that I pulled over, and disassembled my repair kit. I keep a spare tube inside a Ziploc bag and used the bag for the phone then put the tool kit contents in my rear pocket.

For the final hour I hoped that one of the many SUVs or trucks that passed would see me riding in the rain and offer a ride. None did.

Before the roads turned wet they were a bit gritty in places. But once the rain came it was a sandy, salty mess.

Dirty Bike safe at Home

I suffered. Greatly. Cold and wet. Numb.

I got to the car. I turned the heat on high and never turned it down.

At home, a 90 minute hot bath made everything better again. And I just rode 60 miles.

____
NOTE: The Happiness of Pursuit is also the title of a book by Davis Phinney detailing his cycling career and his battle with Parkinson’s Disease. It is a great read and highly recommended.

January 28, 2014July 23, 2015

A Cold Cold January

ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA

I’m not sure what the final numbers will show but this was probably the coldest January in 20 years. It was not a good month for riding.

In the middle of the month it warmed to about 40 degrees (5 C). I went “exploring” in Alexandria. The new Woodrow Wilson Bridge has a bike/pedestrian lane which connects Alexandria to National Harbor in Prince George’s County, Maryland. The bridge is the only one in the country the goes through three jurisdictions. Starting in Virginia, it cuts through the District of Columbia for about 100 meters and 95% of the structure is in Maryland.

Woodrow Wilson Bridge
Maryland side

It wasn’t an epic ride, but still, sort of fun. On the Maryland side is a crushed gravel/shell path for about 400 meters or so. It’s very ridable. At the National Harbor is the sculpture the Awakening.

The Awakening
National Harbor

There’s always something majestic about being on a large bridge crossing over the Potomac River.

W&OD at Gallows Road
Fake Snowflakes

The rest of the month was, well, cold. Today was to be the “warm” day. It was 42 degrees when I left the house and went to the W&OD at Gallows Road. I was expecting a clear trail. Instead, it was snow covered.

So I went to Hains Point in D.C. and it was closed. I couldn’t catch a break. I rode some lightly used roads around Hains Point then crossed the 14th Street Bridge. At first, the Mount Vernon Trail looked clear but as I rode I encountered patches of snow and ice. It was scary on a road bike. I turned around just south of Reagan National Airport. So I just rode. The streets in D.C. were clear.

Ice on the Potomac River

Hard to think in 6-7 weeks spring will be here and this lost month will simply be in the past. Can’t wait. 2014 is going to be great!

January 7, 2014July 23, 2015

Superman

First Batman, now Superman.

We are different from other living creatures because at an early age we
understand there is a beginning and an end, that we will all die. I am
not of an age that I think about it (much) but the last week has made me
face it a lot. When you lose a close friend close in age that will
happen.

Scott Scudamore loved life. He was the life of the party and
where there was anyone and Scott there was a party. When I heard the
news on Sept. 23 that he was on life support I had a hard time accepting
that. But over three months we saw, I saw, that smile. And at Kessler
he told me that he was lucky because he didn’t have brain damage. The
entire time I believed that he would beat this in some way.

Kessler Institute for Rehabilitation
West Orange, NJ

We
looked for signs of movement returning. We were all excited the day Scott moved his thumb. But we never saw anything more. And if he were confined
to that wheelchair with no movement below his neck I knew that he would
somehow make a difference in other people’s life in his new condition.

He was Superman. He was the guy we kiddingly said we all aspired to be.
But I never wanted to be like Scott and I doubt that anyone else did
either. For Scott was unique. There was room for only one Scott.

At the start line with the kids from the
Boys and Girls Club, Sept. 15

And confession time: I never called him Scud and I never ate a Scudfry
(although they may not exist in the singular – just the plural,
Scudfries). He was always Scott to me.

Scott would call me at the
strangest times. “Barry Sherry,” accenting each syllable equally, “How
the heck are you?” And I’d ask “Where in the heck are you?” Traveling
between events, skiing in Colorado, visiting his daughter, Krista, in San Diego, or in
the living room with Jeremiah and Erin Bishop, he was always planning
our next adventure.

Scott was a legend in the mountain bike world.
And I am not a mountain biker. But he made time for me. He dragged my
butt to Iowa for RAGBRAI two years ago. He came with me to Altoona for a
cancer recovery ride. He invited me to ride with him and the kids from
the Boys and Girls Club in Charlottesville in August. And he supported
every one of my many cancer-fighting charity rides.

Barry, Eli, Scott
August 29, 2013

Scott was a
proud husband, father and grandfather. He worried about the health of his wife, “St. Margaret,” also a cancer survivor. He was proud of his daughter,
Jen and her husband, Carl, and their two kids. He always let me know
what Kyle and Marie were doing. And he was proud of his daughter,
Krista, making a career of serving in the U.S. Navy.

Sweating in Altoona
April 2010

Scott didn’t
just (re)learn to talk when he went to Kessler — that blinking stuff was for
the birds after all — he SANG. When I saw him and asked about his voice he
said it was so strong he could sing and he BELTED out LA LA LA LA LA LA
LA going up then down the scales. Everyone who could look did and he
was grinning from ear to ear. That was Scott.

If anyone could
beat this injury, it was Scott. Yet, looking back, even the few hours I
was with Scott, I saw the optimism one needs to overcome the injuries
but also the frustration and disappointment. The physical therapist
moved his shoulders and asked him if he could feel that. He smiled and
said yes. And then realization set in as he realized that he did not
feel his shoulders move. And the frustration and maybe even anger at
being trapped in this body, Superman’s body, that didn’t work.

Altoona ride, April 2009

It shocked me, and probably most of Scott’s friends, because we saw, we
believed, the ever smiling Scott would beat this. But unless you had a
personal visit and saw the downs as well as the ups, you wouldn’t know
any better.

Then there was “the bike.” Whether it was designed
for Christopher Reeve (that other Superman) or he just used it at
Kessler, I do not recall. But even with limbs not working Scott’s rehab
equipment of choice was the bike. His feet would be strapped to the
pedals and a motor would move his legs. The therapist explained that
with his blood pressure “all over the place” they could not risk putting
him on this machine. And he was quite dejected.

I showed him
the picture with me and Kyle’s soccer team, all wearing their new Scud’s
Courage jerseys. He proudly told his physical therapists how Kyle’s
team got special permission from the club to wear those and “they’re
going to wear them next year too.” Such a proud grandfather.

Kyle’s team honoring “Scud’s Courage”
Kyle is next to me, my hand on his shoulder

When I told Jen that story today she said “sounds like Dad made that part up.”

Still, I left Kessler remembering the smile. The proud grandfather. The
promise I made that I would be back to visit and that when he went home
I would come stay and visit.

I forgot that during my time
visiting that he had some down moments. He was someone you would
remember the good times. And, in my case, ignore the signs that all was
not well.

When I had arrived for my visit, Margaret and I talked
and she told me that she almost asked me not to come because of Scott’s
ups and downs. But Scott had vetoed that idea because he wanted me to
come. However, just two weeks ago she did ask me not to come because he
needed his rest.

Superman
Picture from TrailsForYouth.org

The signs were there for me to see but this was Superman. I ignored them.

This video is from the tribute Scott’s
colleagues at the Lake Monticello Rescue Squad
gave him at his funeral.

If there was one person to beat this horrific injury it was Scott. But
in the end it was too much even for him. All of a sudden you realize
that we don’t live forever. If death can snatch someone so energetic and
vibrant, and in reality he was a cross between Superman and the
Energizer Bunny, then I am left to realize that it will catch us all.
It’s something we don’t like to think about but it is real.

A great man. A great friend. He will be sorely missed but his memory and his legend lives on.

Maybe Jen was right and her dad made up the part about Kyle’s team
wearing those jerseys next year. But as Director of Referees for his
soccer club, I talked to the administrator today and told them Scott’s
story.

They will be wearing those uniforms in the spring.

Superman lives on.

January 1, 2014March 7, 2023

Royal Order of the Iron Crotch

WOODBRIDGE, VIRGINIA

My local cycling club, Potomac Pedalers Touring Club, has an award, which may be tongue in cheek, but it is called the Iron Crotch Award. This recognition goes to anyone who rides 5,000 miles in a year. And I qualified. Again.

TOTAL MILES: 6,350
LONGEST RIDE – Ride the Rockies – Pagosa Springs to Alamosa CO. 104.20 miles with a new max speed of 54 mph
% MILES COMMUTING — 0%. I retired but did ride on Bike to Work Day because it was fun.
% MILES PPTC RIDES — 0%. Although I did organize a Ride of Silence in honor of James Callahan and advertised it to PPTC as an Impromptu Ride that drew 40 riders. Those 13 miles count so 0.2%.
Date on which 5,000 was achieved – Sept. 29 at the Jeremiah Bishop Alpine Loop Gran Fondo
Most miles in a Month — 1,066 (June)
Most miles in a week — 579 – in Colorado, during Ride the Rockies
Number of Zero mile weeks – None
Number of 100 mile days – Six
Most interesting story – I was looking at the autograph table with Jens Voigt and Ben King at the Save a Limb Ride when someone grabbed my phone and said “jump in and I’ll take your picture.” That someone was former pro rider now TV commentator, Robbie Ventura.

January 1, 2014January 6, 2022

Reflections on the Year – 2013

WOODBRIDGE, VIRGINIA

It was a year in which I once rode 109 straight days (a “ride” being defined as one of at least 10 miles), including breaking my collarbone only 10 days into the streak. And I didn’t miss a ride. For the second straight year I went over 10,000 kilometers (6,200 miles). I finished with 6,350. But the year would end with incredible sadness.

In no particular order I present my Top Ten Moments of 2013

1. Meeting People on the Trail

I met two groups of young people while riding along the W&OD. In May I
met a lost group from the University of Illinois, the Illini 4,000. I rode
with them to Vienna before saying goodbye.

Riders from the Illini 4,000

In July I met a group of young Orthodox Jewish women biking from Miami to New York City
with Bike 4 Friendship. When they told me they were riding to Baltimore
on U.S. Rte 1 I told them I would take them on safe roads instead. I ended up giving them an impromptu tour of D.C. then taking them through the Anacostia Trail System up to Laurel, Maryland so they could
avoid Rte 1.

Some of the Bike 4 Friendship Riders
in Front of the White House

Shaina Myers

2. Ride of Silence

I never participated in a Ride of Silence before and don’t want to again but I organized one for a fallen cyclist, James Callahan,
who was struck and killed by a 17 year old girl while he was riding on
the bike path next to the road. I had never met Mr. Callahan but it
seemed the right thing to do. Almost 40 riders including his family
members joined us for a silent slow 13-mile ride that honored his
memory.

Stopped at the accident scene where
a bagpiper played Amazing Grace

3. Trexlertown

Labor
Day weekend I joined friends from Spokes of Hope at Trexlertown, Pa. to
ride on the Velodrome as we honored pediatric cancer survivors. Our
featured survivor was Duncan Mitcheltree. As I entered the track his mother, Andrea, called my name. We had met last year at Jake’s funeral.

Barry, Duncan

4. Key to Keys

(Multiple Journal Entries)

In April I rode with the Ulman Cancer Fund for Young Adult’s inaugural Key to Keys
ride, a fundraiser from Baltimore to Key West. There’s nothing like the
community of survivors and people who hate cancer who come together
with a common cause. And when my group did not get a chance to ride across the
Seven Mile Bridge, on Sunday after the ride I did my own solo century ride
to and across the Seven Mile Bridge – twice.

5. Salisbury Trestle

My
dad had never ridden across the Salisbury trestle at Meyersdale so in
July my sister, Betsy, and I rode with the octogenarian from Meyersdale
to Rockwood.

Barry, Betsy, Dad
At the Rockwood Entrance

6. Mount Washington

I thought last year would be my last time up Mount Washington. Then I met the Gubinski family and they asked me to come back and ride with them so they would have someone to beat. And I complied. My sixth straight year on that climb.

Alexa, Barry, Vic, Lucas

7. 4K for Cancer

An organization that has become close to my heart is the 4K for Cancer.
I rode with Team San Francisco on Day 1 from Baltimore to Alexandria; met
Team Portland on the Pike to Bike abandoned Pennsylvania Turnpike on Day 2;
escorted them from Bedford to Ligonier on Day 3; and rode with them again in
Muncie, Indiana on Day 17.

4K on Allegheny Mountain at former Ship Hotel

8. Jeremiah Bishop’s Alpine Gran Fondo

Jeremiah
Bishop’s Alpine Gran Fondo is a beautiful ride and is sponsored by the Prostate Cancer Awareness Project. As a prostate cancer survivor I was
invited to ride off the front with pros, Jeremiah Bishop, Joe Dombrowski, Cameron Cogburn and Ben King.

Pros on the Start Line

9. Ride the Rockies

(Multiple Journal Entries)

Ride the Rockies is simply the best multi-day tour I have found. Awesome vistas with screaming descents – four times I went over 50 mph. I rode with six time Tour de France rider, Ron Kiefel, and met George Hincapie, Bob Roll, and Connie Carpenter-Phinney.

Ron Keifel, Barry Sherry

10. Save a Limb Ride

A man grabs my phone as I am looking at Jens Voigt and Ben King and says “jump in – I’ll take your picture.” And it was none other than Robbie Ventura. At the Save a Limb ride I met Jens, Ben, and Robbie. Too cool.

Jen Voigt, Barry, Ben King

Barry, Robbie Ventura

In Memory of Scott

In August, my friend, Scott Scudamore, invited
me to Charlottesville for a practice ride with some kids from the Boys and Girls Club. They were getting in training miles to ride a Century (100 miles) in September and he promised me we would ride up Afton Mountain which “you will really enjoy.”

When the assignments were given out Scott was very apologetic because he was asked to mentor the youngest
rider on a shorter route than the other kids. He encouraged me to go ride with the other kids up Afton Mountain. I chose to ride with Scott. He
didn’t quite understand it was more about who you were with than where
you were going. It was my last ride with Scott.

On September 22 he was mountain biking at Bryce Ski resort in Virginia when he crashed and broke his neck. Very sadly and unexpectedly, he died from those injuries
on December 29.

Barry, Eli, Scott

You taught me that life is short and to live every moment to the fullest
May you rest in peace, my friend.

December 31, 2013August 16, 2015

A Slow December

HOOVERSVILLE, PENNSYLVANIA

Mileage is not a goal. It is simply a byproduct of reaching other goals. And of having fun.

When I went to the 24 Hours of Booty in August and went over 4,000 miles I knew I wouldn’t match last year’s total of 6,500 miles since I had gone over 5,000 miles at the same point last year (and ended with 6,500). Yet I kept adding up the miles. And in late November when I went over 10,000 kilometers (6,231 miles) I needed only 10 miles per day for the next 30 days to set a personal best for a year.

But I got sick. I picked up an upper respiratory tract infection which grounded me. Literally. I went nowhere. I couldn’t ride. Well, maybe I could but it was Zombie Riding. I couldn’t feel my body. So I rested.

December was lost except for a ride near the end of the month. At our annual Sherry family gathering at Camp Harmony near Davidsville, Pa. (between Somerset and Johnstown), Saturday brought decent riding weather. There were still some patches of ice or slush on the road but with temperatures in the mid 40s it was an otherwise beautiful day to ride.

My “camp” ride was a typical ride that defines me. First, it was solo as 90% or more of my miles are simply by myself. Second, it had a plan – one that didn’t work. Many of my rides go awry somewhere and, frankly, that is an enjoyable part of my riding.

Sherry Family Christmas

I had planned to circumvent the lake (Quemahoning Reservoir) and put in about 30 miles. I didn’t want to go too much farther because I hadn’t been riding for most of the month. My fitness level was gone.

As I got to the east side of the lake I came to the “Green Bridge” which was an open grate bridge over one section of the lake. And it was gone. In its place was a new bridge that wasn’t yet opened. On this day there was no construction taking place and I looked for a place to safely cross walking my bike but it did not look safe to cross. And a freezing lake is the last place I would dare slip and fall.

(Why I didn’t take a picture of the new Green Bridge, I do not know. Probably because I have taken so many pictures of the lake that I thought “nothing new here” except there was. There was ice formed in one section of the lake which would make a beautiful photo but I didn’t stop. It’s a fairly large reservoir with a decent size dam at the far end with a pretty impressive spillway.)

After a couple of minutes of looking at the bridge I followed the detour sign. I didn’t know where the road would lead but that’s sort of number three – go where the road leads. And it led up. Up the hill I went, crossed under US Rte 219 and as I neared the summit of the climb I reached a farm. Protected by a big dog. Running loose. I stopped. I turned around.

And that was number four. Go where the road leads but be prepared to change your plans. Especially where big dogs live. So I turned around and went back past the lake. I followed the road to Holsopple.

As I was riding through Holsopple I spotted a train station. A train station! Now there is one active track here but who knew there was a train station? And it was in excellent condition. I turned down a side street to get a closer look then saw a local. I asked him about the station and we probably talked for 15 minutes or so.

Train Station in Holsopple

And that was number five. Stop. Talk to a local.

The neighbor wasn’t real thrilled with the station. Privately owned he said, he thought the families who maintain it could use their money in a more humanitarian way. Perhaps so but I love seeing old buildings maintained. I listened. I can’t even say we had much of discussion.

The train station has its own Facebook page. Quite frankly, I like it.

From the Facebook Page for Hollsopple Station

Leaving Holsopple I rode to Hooversville. It’s only four miles but with no shoulders and into the low afternoon December sun. I was not comfortable.

Halfway between the two small hamlets is a very small one named Blough. Only a handful of houses are here but there’s a sign proudly proclaiming Blough to be the home of former major leaguer, Frank Kostro, who earned a World Series championship ring playing for the 1965 Minnesota Twins. I just know I hadn’t heard of him which means he wasn’t one of the 20 player cards I had for my Strat-O-Matic game for the ’65 Twins.*

Card from Baseball-Almanac.com

In Hooversville there is a swinging bridge over the Stoney Creek River. I love riding my bike over that bridge. No pictures. Which was maybe number six. Drain the battery in the cell phone. Oh well.

After a month without any miles (just 144 miles) it was great to be back on the bike. I will miss setting a mileage total for a year but mileage is not a goal.

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*Frank Kostro was 5 for 31 (.161) in 1965

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EPILOGUE – Feb. 24, 2014 – I just got an unexpected email from the unofficial historian for the Holsopple Station. Who knew anyone read my blog?

“Holsopple Historical Building, Inc., our official name, is a registered nonprofit corporation composed of citizens who are interested in keeping our town’s history alive. We have a board that meets monthly; we also schedule activities throughout the year to involve the community.

“We’ve been working for over 20 years to restore the station. It was literally falling apart when we took over. We have replaced the roof, replaced the bay window, rewired and repainted the station, and installed a new floor—supports, joists, and all—in the freight room. We’ve raised money through chicken barbecues, basket parties, etc., but the largest amounts we received has come from Somerset County’s tourism grants. That enabled us to add outside lighting, sidewalks and landscaping, and paint the interior.”

Their eventual goal is to open as a museum. It is a beautiful historic building. If you’re in the area check it out.

Detours

October 19, 2013March 6, 2023

Robbie Ventura – Photographer

COCKEYSVILLE, MARYLAND

The event was the Save a Limb Ride, a fundraiser for The Rubin Institute for Advanced Orthopedics which, I think, is primarily at Sinai Hospital in Baltimore. I left the house at 5:00 a.m. to get to the start line on time.

As I was leaving registration I saw Ben King and then Jens Voigt. I went to the car and got some Sharpies. I was wearing my Shut Up Legs t-shirt. I really haven’t been following Jens around the world for this moment. It just seemed that way.

In 2011, Adrian Register and I were at the team bus for Leopard-Trek in Saint Gaudens, France. Adrian had his Shut Up Legs t-shirt but when the team exited the bus they had to get to the starting line quickly. I’m not even sure if I owned my t-shirt at that point or if I bought it later.

Ducking back inside registration I asked Jens to sign my shirt. He willingly obliged. I was a happy camper. No matter what would happen on the day it would be a good day.

At 8:00 a.m. we gathered at the event start. The good doctor who was the emcee referred to Jens (pronounced Yens in his native German) as “Gens” (as in more than one girl named Jen). And said he was from East Germany. “I guess it’s all one big Germany, now.” I sort of giggled. Cyclists all cringed as the doctor mangled his name.

As we rolled out it was a cold 48℉. It was ard to believe it was summer just two weeks ago. Plus it was windy too.

The course was somewhat difficult. The event website warned: “Please be aware that our Metric Century ride is a difficult and challenging ride with 5,400 feet of climb.” Actually, for 60 miles, nearly 6,000′ of climb is a lot. Generally, anything more than 100 feet per mile is mountainous and this approached that. I hadn’t read the warning or maybe I would have used the small ring on my triple. I stayed in the 39-tooth middle ring on all the climbs.

I rode for a while with a guy from Fairfax Co. who wore a full FDJ kit. Remember Kentucky Fried Chicken? It was rebranded as KFC to avoid that awful word “fried.” This team was named FDJeux.com in 2003 and 2004, then renamed Française des Jeux, supposedly to avoid bad luck, until July 2010, when the name was simplified to its initials. (Source: Wikipedia)

I never got his name. He was perhaps 10 years younger and we seemed to match up in power and speed. Around Mile 30 it seemed on every climb, and there were lots of small ones, he dropped back. I always waited. I believe three times he asked me to ride ahead but I was comfortable shepherding him along.

andBut as we were “climbing” up around Prettyboy Reservoir we were joined by two guys who were methodically, but slowly, making their way up the climb. I stayed with them then soft-pedaled at the top but FDJ-guy never did rejoin me. Ever. Even at the end. I think I spent almost an hour at the festival. I never saw him again.

The route was through rolling country roads. The cues were painted on the road. On a group ride, I tend to follow: (1) people; (2) cues; or (3) maps, in that order. Early in the ride, we came to an intersection on a descent. Normally a four-way stop, it was missing the stop sign. Following the wheels of other riders, we flew through it and kept going. About a mile later I saw cyclists coming in the other direction. Another half mile I see 10-15 cyclists all looking at maps. Oh oh. Bonus miles!

The last 10 miles I was pretty much in “no man’s land”. I rarely saw anyone on the road up ahead and was not caught by anyone. I had to follow the cues. They were well-marked until the end. I was navigating by feel as I often didn’t think I was on the right course. But I made it.

Back at the finish I went to the festival. There, Jens, Ben King, and Robbie Ventura were signing autographs. I thought about getting them to sign my race bib but what would I do with it? Some had them autograph their event T-shirt, but again, why?

I was just looking at the autograph table with Jens and Ben and it was as though Robbie read my mind. Actually, he did one better because I never thought of posing with Jens and Ben. Robbie took my camera and told me to get in the picture with those two. After snapping a photo of us, a volunteer took a picture of Robbie and me.

Weighing heavy on my mind was the recent accident by my friend, Scott Scudamore. Hope and prayers were the best we could do and I wanted to deliver hope. I asked Jens and Ben to make short greeting videos wishing Scott well and they did.

Robbie’s take today on the course was that it was quite difficult. He said it is much easier to have two or three hard climbs and then flat, unlike this undulating course. “Anyone can ride 100 miles on flat” (uh, no they can’t), he said, “but you really have to be fit to ride a course like today’s.” He’s right. My legs feel it.

EPILOGUE/COMMENTS – I look back almost 10 years ago at this ride. The biggest thing that has changed is the course route directions. In 2013, the events printed cue sheets. Savvy riders, of which I was never one, even had a plastic holder on the front of their bike to slip in the turn-by-turn directions and/or course map. The event also painted arrows on the road or erected signs at the turns.

Today many, if not most, riders have bike computers that will show the turns on the bike’s head unit. I was one of the worst at following cue sheets. I put them in my pocket where the paper soon disintegrated due to sweat. I often told riders I would ride in the front position as long as they would tell me where to turn. Now, almost all events provide the course maps in electronic form so riders can upload those to their bike computers.

Lastly, that picture of Jens and Ben. Since that time I have been able to do rides with both riders. And my expectation is that I will ride with both guys again. — March 6, 2023