A Cancer Survivor's Journey to Find Peace on a Bike
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).
Some days things work out as a surprise. Today was one of those.
I love the Airport Loop. Early in the morning, the summer temperatures are still pleasant, the route shaded, and one sees a lot of cyclists, runners, and walkers along the trail. Some are unusual, like the $4,000 organic transportation pedal car I saw at Gallows Road.
While riding inbound on the Custis Trail I was passed in the opposite direction by four riders wearing the same orange and blue jersey. A few minutes later I was passed again by four other riders. And then a third time.
I didn’t catch much except “Trek” was on the jersey and I thought “Illini” may have been on the front of these orange jerseys. I did not think much else about them as I continued my ride.
Yang Song, Je Won Hong, Meiling Liu, Jordan Orr
After completing the loop and heading back to my start at Gallows Road, I caught four of these riders. And so I talked with them. They’re with the Illini for Cancer 4000. The Illini 4000 is much like the Texas 4000. Only their starting location was New York City and their destination this year is San Francisco.
I rode for a while with Yang Song, Je Won Hong, Meiling Liu, and Jordan Orr. I was glad to be their guide for a while. Today they were riding from Washington, D.C. to Boonsboro, Maryland. This first section was the W&OD out to Purcellville before jumping on real roads.
Je Won, Barry, Meiling, Jordan
What was to be a nothing day turned into something special because I met four cancer fighters.
I came to Pennsylvania on a scouting trip for some friends preparing a charity ride across the country. Google Maps show the most direct route from Bedford to Ligonier is through New Baltimore then up Imgrund Mountain Road. The problem was I wasn’t finding anyone who knew much about the road. (Or perhaps people knew and were unwilling to talk. Imgrund Mountain Road is believed by some to be the real crash site of Flight 93 and, as the lore goes, no outsiders are supposed to know since Flight 93 has put this area on the map.)
My dad drove the upper portion for me last week and told me it was “red dog” (look it up). But he never saw the nasty lower portion. I called the supervisor for the township and when I told him we were thinking about biking up it, he recommended against driving up it.
Non-cyclists view many hills, if not all hills, as something they wouldn’t ride on a bike. I knew that I could not rely on outside intel to make the determination if this was a safe route for my friends’ ride. I had to see it, and ride it, for myself.
Imgrund Mountain Road, the lower section
I went exploring and first started up Wambaugh Hollow Road, part of the Pennsylvania Bike S Route over the mountain. I remembered on Google Maps that near the top of the climb a road connected with Imgrund Mountain Road. Except that it didn’t.
I met a local and when I asked about the road that connected to Imgrund Mountain Road he told me there may have been an old hunting trail through there but assured me the only road over the mountain started back at the base off of New Baltimore Road. And then he looked at me in disbelief when I told him I was going to ride up it. Not to be outdone, then his “friendly” dog chased me, nipping at my heels.
Imgrund Mountain Road
I descended back to New Baltimore Road and found the entrance to Imgrund Mountain Road. I saw gravel. Dirt. Rocks. And a forest floor. My immediate thought was “no way.” I almost turned back knowing the answer.
Red dog road part of Imgrund Mountain Road
But my next thought was to see just how far I could go. So I started up the road. The first half-mile was rough. By rough I mean hard. The surface was mixed stones and dirt and even some water flowing down it creating gullies, so I couldn’t get any rhythm pedaling. I was trying to find a line that would do the least damage to my wheels.
I would not recommend a car travel up this road. Big enough for one car it has a very uneven surface and some rocks protruding from the surface. It is, however, perfect for a 4×4. And an adventurous spirit.
I kept climbing, at times getting out of the saddle but always finding the rear wheel would slip with each pedal stroke. After the first half-mile, the grade lessened some but still was considerable.
Power line. Google maps recommended this route instead of Imgrund Mountain Road.
The road threw everything it had at me for two and one-half miles. Just when it seemed I was at the top I saw a curve to the left and another climb. There was heavy gravel on the curve and my GPS showed a 22% grade.
I made it and the road leveled off. The surface got better – all packed dirt or gravel and flattened out and even trended down.
House powered by wind-power generator
But the other factor was the wind. Heavy winds were blowing and it was cold. Memorial Day weekend it was 45 degrees at the start, never getting higher than the low 50s.
Purple barn. Why Pennsylvania, why?
I wanted to ride 10 miles over to Friedens and surprise my parents but felt uncomfortable controlling the bike in the winds. Instead, I headed to US 30 and rode back to New Baltimore.
Bald Knob Summit – U.S. 30
I could not recommend this ride for anyone on a road bike. Yet a huge sense of accomplishment swelled over me. I even thought of recommending the route to my friends just so I could chide them knowing I did it and some of them couldn’t. But that would be foolish. Real foolish. I’ll find them another way over the mountain.
___ EPILOGUE (April 13, 2014) – I contacted Google and they have since corrected the hunting trail and the power line which showed as connecting to Imgrund Mountain Road. I still wouldn’t recommend it on a bike
A few hours after this ride and I must say that I’m happy. That wasn’t the case seven hours ago.
I was looking forward to riding with Ben Jones and Brian Moelk in their first century and wanted to set the example of fitness. Instead it was me who had difficulty. Following a cool spring, this was the first test of sweating on a bike and I failed the test.
Ben Jones
But, I am reminded by the picture that back of the pace line is still part of the pace line.
We pushed off seven minutes after the start of the ride for century riders depriving ourselves of riding in a pace line. Or in a large group. On a windy day that would have helped.
But we were treated to gorgeous riding skirting Richmond Battlefield Park. Tree covered roads would be the norm for the first 25 miles. We averaged 18 mph for those first 52 miles in windy conditions – mostly cross winds. At times we were on wet roads but not in the rain. We must have just missed some storms.
On the road while Ben changed his flat
At Mile 52 we crossed the high bridge over the Chickahominy River. On the climb I cramped briefly and eased up letting Brad and Brian to fly over the top. After a brief lunch at Chickahominy River Park we climbed back over the bridge.
Bridge over Chickahominy River
I announced I was going to use the trail instead of the shoulder so that I could stop at the top at take some pictures. While I was honest in stating that, I was also a little concerned that we would hit the climb up the bridge hard and I might cramp. I knew I could soft pedal in the bike lane. It was uneventful until the rest stop at Mile 62.
Chickahominy River
Once we left the rest stop we had a little bit of rise and I cramped. Big time. I had to dismount and stand. For the next 40 miles I would pedal and, at times, cramp. I was taking on a lot of water and Powerade as I rode but it wasn’t enough.
I had good moments though. Around Mile 90 we were following a guy for about two miles and I felt bad we were wheel sucking. Ben and Brian were content to let me follow their wheels but I came from 4th wheel to the front and pulled. Things worked well for a mile or so until we came to an overpass. It was just enough of a power demand that I cramped again.
I just needed to find my “happy place” where I could pedal without exerting too much effort. And at times, I did. After a brief stop long enough just to foot my feet down. I got back on and regrouped. I went by again and opened up a 100 yard gap as it was the most comfortable pace for me to ride. But eventually they caught me and eventually I cramped.
Ben Jones, Barry Sherry
The wind coming back was strong and mostly a head wind. Despite the relative flatness of the course the wind made it a big effort. But the rain which threatened all day, held off. At the end of the day, Ben and Brian finished their first century and we averaged just under 17 mph.
Ben, Brian, Barry
What was disappointing and painful for 40 miles ended up being a positive. I fought off quitting and continued on. It’s not the way I wanted to lead my friends but still I was part of the pace line.
After two days of driving from Key West to Baltimore then to Somerset, Pa., I was ready for a nice ride. Maybe not this one but it’s the ride I got.
I have driven the mountain up westbound on US Rte 30 from Shellsburg towards Stoystown probably more than 100 times and always wanted to bike up it. A nice little climb it’s a two-lane road with a little bit of a shoulder. Safe enough.
I left my parents’ place and rode into Somerset, fueling (eating) at Sheetz. Then I headed east on PA 31. The rode has narrow shoulders and lots of coal truck traffic. But generally the coal trucks gave me wide berth – it was the regular pickup truck drivers who made no attempt to go wide even when no cars were approaching.
The weather was about 50 degrees and a mist from the fog hung over the area. The first 20 miles featured some nice rollers on the Allegheny Plateau. Crossing the Allegheny Mountain I pedaled hard trying to hit a good speed. Only when the road flattened out did I check to see my high speed — 50 mph.
Anytime I hit 50 mph it’s going to be a good day on the bike. I descended to the valley floor then navigated by feel. I knew where I could go to get to Shellsburg but took a chance on a road before Manns Choice. I guessed right.
In my mind I was going to go farther – over to Rte 96 and past Shawnee State Park to Shellsburg but I was also planning to meet my sister, Betsy, for lunch. So a 50+ mile ride made more sense than a 60+ mile ride. I found Buena Road which cuts over to Rte 30 near the Buffalo Farm.
Coming out on US 30 I turned left and started up the mountain. I always wanted to ride up US 30 but in better conditions. It was foggy and visibility was low. Winter dirt was still on the shoulders. Here they use a mix of of salt and black cinders to treat the roads. Combined with the mist and fog, it made for a wet mix on the bike.
I began the six mile climb and enjoyed every pedal stroke. I only wish I could see. Visibility was so poor near the summit I could hear a car approaching before I could see its head lights. I was hoping that no car would come flying up behind me. But none did. And over the six miles only 20 cars passed me on the climb.
On a clear day it is advertised that one can see three states and seven counties. But today I could barely see 100 yards. I passed the remains of the Ship Hotel, a travel icon in the 1930s.
I continued on “Seven Mile Stretch” and reflected that three days ago I was riding Seven Mile Bridge. What a difference. Unrelenting sunshine. Views that went forever. Here? Not so much.
I passed the entrance to the Flight 93 Memorial then continued to Stoystown before heading back to Friedens. It was a dirty, chilly and wet day but was still a good 54 mile day on the bike.
With a day to relax in Key West before heading home, I awoke to a beautiful day with nothing planned. Some of my teammates from the Key to Keys ride were flying home while others were sleeping in from a late night on the town. Still others had family members join them in Key West.
Me? I had my bike.
I started with no real plan. I began by riding back to the buoy that marks the Southernmost Point of the Continental United States and seeing many “Southernmost” landmarks including hotel, hotel on the beach, furniture store, and hockey rink.
I passed the Key West AIDS Memorial. I don’t like to think of “them” vs. “us” but it makes me wonder why no Cancer Memorial. I’m not suggesting less be done for AIDS but more needs to be done for cancer.
I left headed north – the only way one could head, and rode. As I rode I got to thinking about the Seven Mile Bridge which many teammates got to ride yesterday but we survivors, did not. And I rode.
The ride was a combination of shoulder on US 1, bike lane on US 1, and bike path separate from US 1. From the original highway which featured separate one lane bridges, many of the bridges are fully intact and are designated for riding down the middle and fishing from the sides. This is part of the Florida Keys Overseas Heritage Trail.
I had pictured mile after mile of bridges but most of the highway through the keys is actually on land. The big exception being the Seven Mile Bridge.
Not all bridges are intact
I knew it was near mile 50 and wasn’t concerned about riding 50 miles. But I was unsupported and to ride 50 north would require 100 miles total. I wasn’t sure how my body would react to the distance. Or the winds.
Railroad Bridge, then Highway Bridge, then Ruins
As I rode farther north, I decided that I would turn around at noon unless I was on the bridge. At noon I was a couple miles short. I lied. I kept going.
Just short of the bridge I stopped at a campground/gas station/food store. I bought a water and Gatorade but the water was too much to fit in my bottle. In the store I explained that I was coming back and wanted to leave my half-full water behind the counter and the woman offered to keep it in the Snapple cooler instead. So cool. Off I rode.
I rode across the Seven Mile Bridge greatly enjoying the trip. It seemed to be littered with GU packages and sponges and I thought damn cyclists. We have to do a better job and not drop our energy packets when empty.
I touched the sign to Marathon Keys then turned around and rode back. Stopping at the food store to pick up my water one woman wanted to know how many miles I had ridden. I wasn’t displaying mileage so I showed her the buttons to push on my Garmin so she could see it — but not tell me. I didn’t want to know. I was just enjoying the ride.
I also found out that the litter on the bridge was from yesterday’s seven mile race across the bridge. Damn runners. I had a bit of a headwind riding the first 60 miles and was able to ride the final 44 miles at more than 20 mph. Tailwind. Nice. Real nice.
Pigeon Key
I felt good except for too much sun. Each day on the trip began with applying SPF 50 sunscreen and then halfway through I was always able to reapply at the team car. With no support today I only applied before I left. But the legs felt good. And I can cross the Seven Mile Bridge off my bucket list.
We left Baltimore eight days ago for a 1,300-mile trip to Key West. Today we arrived. Well, actually it was a 414-mile ride and an 886-mile drive trip. Yes, there were more than twice as many miles in a van than on a bike.
We are the Survivors!
The day began with the dedication circle. Imagine what a better place the world would be if 25 people held hands and dedicated a ride, or the day, to them. I have met some wonderful young people giving up a summer of their lives to participate in the 4K for Cancer or the Texas 4000 so I dedicated my day to them.
Each day began with the super-secret unveiling of the teams (groups) for the day. I had never ridden with the leader and it became apparent to me that his ego was threatened by strong riders. He liked to be the strong one in his group so today would be no different.
The groups were announced and Groups 1 and 2 would be comprised of cancer survivors. The names were called – all except for mine. I didn’t say anything but a couple of people quickly told him that he had forgotten me. So I was included with the cancer survivors.
Celebration time at roll-out
Thus the final dedication began with calling the names of six riders and two staffers — all of us being cancer survivors. We became the middle of the circle and the outer circle closed around us. It was very humbling.
The six of us would ride from Homestead. This was my first day to ride with Jessica Tanner. The rest of the team was Jae Slye, Paul Lemle, Meg Shipman, and Patti Jackson. Our drivers were Abby Ramirez and Samantha Powell.
We rolled out and just had fun while riding. We kept a very comfortable pace which allowed me to drop back or speed ahead. It was just a fun day to ride.
For Jacob
The top of the Keys is pretty boring on a bike. Or maybe more realistically, the entrance to Keys. It’s a divided highway with aqua-blue jersey barriers, 45-55 mph traffic, and a narrow shoulder. This is not for everyone. But we had great company and even a flat by Jae didn’t bother us today. Even the 30 minutes it took to change it because she was riding deep-rim wheels. Nope, we were relaxed.
My expectation before the ride was to ride the entire length of the Keys on this day. I don’t know if that is any longer a bucket list option for me. It was fun today to ride with my teammates.
Twenty miles from Homestead we jumped in the Tundra and began our drive to rendezvous with the rest of our teammates. We first stopped in Key Largo for a quick restroom break. Then, on schedule, once back in the car we decided we needed lunch. One of the staffers reminded us we didn’t have time but we were survivors. We said screw it. This was a day of celebration. Our celebration.
We stopped at The Beach Cafe at Morada Bay in Islamorada. Great location and great food. We got back in and swore, on a day no group had time to stop to eat, that we would never tell. And we haven’t.
As we went through Marathon we saw it out ahead. The Seven Mile Bridge. We were amazed at this structure and disappointed. To a person, this was the section of the Keys that we most wanted to ride. That would have to wait for another day.
But our group leaders kept this for themselves to ride. “Cancer survivors, we honor you by letting you lead us out today and ride past Walmart and Wawa. And we will ride the fun part in the Keys.”
We arrived about seven miles north of Key West. This is where we met the other riders who were hungry and maybe a little concerned about our whereabouts. We then rode into Key West together. The first mile in Baltimore from Race Pace Bicycles to the Inner Harbor and the last miles into Key West were the only times we rode together.
We blocked an entire lane and most people were celebrating with us. The people of Key West were very welcoming. While riding I was talking to a couple on a motor scooter and both were cancer survivors. I invited them to ride with us but they got caught at a light. The celebration was on.
We arrived the famous buoy and were greeted by a number of family members of riders who had made the trip.
Dinner was celebrated at Fort Zach on the beach with evening activities in town.
This was an amazing journey. I take back friendships and memories. For every person who donated and/or help me up in prayer or good thoughts, words cannot describe what that means to me.
This was also a week of transformation. For three and a half years I have been a cancer survivor. And yet, until my name was called to enter the “Circle of Survivors” (it wasn’t really called that) most people on the ride did not know I was a survivor.
What they heard me talk about were the many other people fighting cancer that I rode for each day. And that’s what it really is about. This wasn’t a ride for me. It was a ride for all people who are battling cancer and to remember those who have lost the battle. And I’d rather be an advocate than a survivor.
As our journey makes its way down the east coast, pedaling and driving, but mostly driving, today was my only day to ride in Group 4. Group 4 gets to drive first and then ride — all the way to our destination. Our destination was Homestead, Florida, south of Miami and the gateway to the Everglades and to the Keys. My teammates were Andy Veliuona and Meg Shipman. Our driver was Laura S.
Chris Kiesel, Barry Sherry
At the dedication circle, I was met by Chris Keisel, my cousin, Mary Kay Sherry’s boyfriend. I appreciated that he came over but was disappointed that Mary Kay didn’t make an effort. We were just a few miles from her home in Vero Beach.
Riding for Jack Morton
Today I rode for Jack Morton. It was a random act of kindness that almost went viral among his followers on Facebook. Just knowing someone is thinking of you and dedicating their day means so much. And every day our riders and drivers dedicated their days to one, two, or many people battling cancer.
Riding for Jack Morton
As we drove Laura said we could stop anywhere for lunch before riding. I saw a Chick-fil-A and offered that. She got angry and said she would take us anywhere but there. Seriously? I understand some people make political statements with their shopping choices but they don’t make them for me. Especially when I am a client for your silly organization. I raised more than $5000, in part so you can have a job, and this is how the organization treats its people once they have your money? Ok, understood. I should have ended my trip and association with this group right then and there.
Before we put wheels down at Hollywood North Beach Park, Andy laid down the gauntlet. “I hear you have quite a reputation at giving out the cards. Well, today, you’re going down.” (His words may have been embellished slightly to the enjoyment of the reader.)
Andy and Meg
And that was all it took. Andy handed out the first card to a person walking by but I would give a lesson today.
The cards were simply business cards with the name of the organization. And we were proselytizing missionaries, raising money for this organization.
But to get underway I took out a pump from the car and checked the pressure in my tires. The pump sucked. It let air out of both tires. So we do this trip down the coast and the organization didn’t even have a working floor pump in every vehicle. I almost abandoned today’s ride right there but decided to ride on on low tires and try to find a bike shop.
Lesson learned: Check air at the hotel before all groups roll out so if the one pump in your car is defective you can find one that works. It was also indicative of the lack of attention to detail this trip had. All their air pumps did not work.
The cue sheet today was hand written without mile markers. We would simply follow US 1. The farther south we went the more obvious it became that planning was, again, very disorganized. In fact, the only good day with cues was Day 1 in which I had volunteered to do all the cue sheets, and we didn’t use any on Leg 2 (Group 2) since I knew all the turns. By now they were making things up as we went. There was no real planning ahead of this trip.
Barry and Meg
Most of our riding was urban riding. Lots of traffic lights. And lots of opportunities to show Andy how it’s done. Cards, that is. I stopped and talked to people on sidewalks. I caught a couple at a light in their convertible and talked to them. As a man on a motorbike prepared to pass I matched his speed and handed him a card. Each time I looked at Andy. He gave up. I handed out 40 cards today. It netted the organization $0.
Tepig – for Josh
As soon as I could find one, we stopped at a local bike shop. For air. The bike shop was great to let me get some air in my tires. It was hard to believe we didn’t have a working pump in the car.
Nearing lunchtime, I decided to ask a local for directions. As we rode by, the guy yelled out “I’m not homeless!” I asked “local?” and asked where to eat. He recommended a place so we went in the opposite direction. But I still gave him a card to show him what the ride was about. And Andy deducted points from me for giving a card to a homeless guy.
Draw bridge in Miami
After lunch we iPhoned our way out of Miami. I deferred to Meg and Andy on this. I just wanted to ride so I didn’t care where we went. On South Miami Avenue we were stopped for a drawbridge opening on the Intercoastal Waterway. I handed a card to Juan Londono, a local originally from Colombia. He was gracious enough to lead us on our way through Miami.
Juan Londono
I appreciated Juan riding with us. I have been in similar situations many times where I have met cyclists and have ridden with them as well. Today I received.
Meg and Andy checking out some new bikes while I was getting free air
Our route today was supposed to be 48 miles. Once we reached that, Laura said she was ready to transport our group to the hotel even though we did not ride to the destination. Meg and Andy agreed to stop and get in the SAG but we were only eight miles from the hotel. I told them I was going to ride the rest of the way.
As Meg and Andy loaded their bikes, I rode on to the hotel. I arrived at the hotel at the same time they had arrived.
Dinner was at the hotel. John JJ Beck had found a local BBQ joint and brought dinner in. We sat around the pool and talked about riding in Altoona. It was real strange having Craig Babst mention the small town of Gipsy, Pa.
I was offered (or selected) the chance to ride a century (100 miles) today along with my teammates, Jimmy Kondisko, Chris Zahlis, and Meg Shipman. It appeared to me, and my teammates, that we were selected as the strongest riders and most likely to be able to complete a century ride. But logistically it was doomed from the start.
Saint Marys, Georgia before sunrise
We left the hotel and faced a two-hour drive. From day to day we never knew who we would be riding with or where we would start, or finish, so to ask us to ride a mystery 100 miles was a bit of a stretch. Especially so when we learned it would take a two-hour drive to get there. Or more importantly, how about telling us the day before so we could fuel, and sleep, properly?
Saint Marys, Georgia
This would be the start of a very special day because I was wearing Tepig. Chey Hillsgrove carried Pikachu across the country on his cancer ride to Portland last year to give to Jake the Hero. Instead, Jake’s big brother, Alex Grecco, got Pikachu. Jake’s mother, Stacey Gravina, had Tepig to arrive and he would be carried to Key West and presented to Jake’s younger brother, Josh Grecco. The mileage would not be important as long as Tepig made the trip.
Barry with Pikachu (hitching a free ride)
We arrived at Ormond-On-The-Beach and pushed off into a heavy southerly wind. It would be strong in our face the entire day. The high buildings of Daytona Beach offered some respite from the wind but once out of the protection of the buildings we were being whipped around.
We had a six-hour limit because we needed to be off the course in time for another shuttle ride in a car, this time to our destination, Vero Beach. It wouldn’t happen. The first 18 miles we went through at a 16.5 mph clip which was pretty astonishing given the massive headwinds.
Chris, Meg, Jimmy, Barry
Even at 16.5 mph we were below the 16.7 average we would need. Without stops. But then the group began to falter.
Meg, of slight build, was getting shredded in the wind. We encouraged her to ride third wheel while we took turns up front in the wind. Jimmy was of slight build too so I always looked to latch onto Chris’ wheel.
Barry, arriving Titusville
At New Smyrna Beach we tried to follow the beach route, 1A, and stopped at a 7-Eleven. I started talking to a young couple which led to a discussion that you can’t get there from here. We turned around.
Directions were generally awful on this trip. There was little planning ahead of time. The routes were not communicated to the team ahead of time so no one could load those on their bike computers. And they consisted of wrong turns. And we found one mainly because our route had not been communicated to us.
Back on route we followed U.S. Route 1, a most dangerous road with small shoulders and 60 mph traffic. Unlike two days earlier, we had no one behind us “blocking” for us. It was open season on cyclists for the cars that blew by as one intentionally flew by within 12 inches or so.
Our support driver, Liz Kaplan, had left us to drive back to Jacksonville to pick up the CEO, who was at the Mayo Clinic. We had no support (other than the 7-Eleven). So there were four of us to ride with no support and to bring in the CEO mid-ride so he could go for a bike ride. It was a clown show.
Ultimately, the CEO was able to join as at Mile 53. But he had to wait for him.
We had a strong team. But we weren’t properly notified ahead of time, needed to leave before the dedication circle to have enough time, needed proper directions and support that would stay with us. But it was typical of the way the ride director handled this trip.
Chris, Barry, Jimmy, Meg
As we approached Titusville I saw a high bridge and told the group we would cross the bridge and finish there. You would think that our support or the CEO would be time-aware and know how far to go yet I had to make the call for them. We had a fixed finish time which we would not meet and the park offered stunning vistas. And it looked like a fun bridge to cross so we went.
At the golf club
We put out bikes on the truck and hurried down to Vero Beach to Bent Pine Golf Club where we were guests for the evening. Dinner was hosted by one of our rider’s parents at the golf club. Of course it wasn’t just dinner. It was a fundraiser. We were instructed to sit among members of club and maybe they could get $10,000 of out these folks.
Today I rode with Craig Babst and Paul Lemle. Alex Wright was our driver so I was hoping for good things from him.
L-R: Craig, Barry, Paul, Alex
In our dedication circle I dedicated the day to Abigail “Happy Abby” Bolenbaugh, a soon to be six year old who recently celebrated her five year Cancerversary.
Meg Shipman inking my legs
Too early to get ready to ride, we jumped in the Suburban and headed to Richmond Hill, Georgia, to ride our portion of today’s route. Forgetfulness would plague me today. We were in a parking lot with a CVS and just ready to roll out. Then I remembered I didn’t have on my heart rate monitor. Except that I was wearing it.
Barry, somewhere in Georgia
No longer using cue sheets we simply followed our instructions to ride on US 17. I don’t like 17 in Virginia, I didn’t like it in South Carolina, and I didn’t like it in Georgia.
Alex Wright
The morning was quite pleasant with temperatures near 70. Expected to reach the low 80s I was an hour into the ride when I remembered that I had forgotten to apply Chamois Butt’r.
US 17 is a four lane road but in this section it wasn’t heavily traveled. Craig, Paul, and I had been riding in a pace lane, loosely, and Alex was following blocking one lane of traffic for us. With no traffic behind I told the guys to keep pedaling and I’d catch up. I dropped back to the “team car” and told Alex I had forgotten to use Chamois Butt’r.
Rolling on US 17, he reached for the tube. I extended my hand. He squeezed. Nothing came out. “Uh, Alex” I said, “You need to first remove the foil from under the cap.”
Alex removed the cap, then the foil, and replaced the cap. Reaching out the window he squeezed a sliver of Butt’r on my finger. I looked at him. “Dude, I need a dollop. A dollop” Alex then squeezed out a blob of the stuff on my fingers. I thanked him and rode ahead.
Now what? I was rolling down the highway about 50 meters behind Craig and Paul with a dollop of Chamois Butt’r in my hand. This would be harder than I expected. But I got out of the saddle and was able to apply it to the chamois and keep rolling.
Catching Craig and Paul they asked where I went. “Chamois Butt’r,” I said.
Barry, Paul, Craig
Alex had looked at the route and found a longer but safer alternative. Thankfully. Our first turn was at Mile 25 near South Newport. We first passed The World’s Smallest Church* and then I asked the group to stop. We did and offered up The World’s Biggest Prayer for Meg Shipman’s friend, Kristen.
Once we were off US 17 we could ride more freely. Out in the country I was shocked to see a runner approaching us. It was that remote. But I reached for a Key to Keys card and rode over to his side of the road. I held the card for him to reach and made a perfect hand off. This was that start of something big.
We had business cards about the ride and we were challenged to hand them out. And I took it to a new level. It was easy for me because I believed in the mission. On this day I saw a woman on the side of the road and I stopped and handed her a card and told her what we were doing. And so I would all the way to Key West.
We had a nice ride in to Darien, Georgia, riding on moss covered streets, passing beautiful houses and mileage signs including one to Key West.
Almost Equidistant between Key West and Upyours WV
(There is no Upyours, WV)
Hoping aboard our magic transporter we were taken to Saint Marys, Georgia, which was my first day arriving well before dinner. Saint Marys is a quaint town located on the Cumberland Island National Seashore. It begged of exploration by bike, of which I had time, but I found the one washing machine next door in a small store. I opted to wash clothes instead. I’m sure my teammates were thankful.
The evening dinner was Brunswick Stew presented by a local cycling club. One of the riders warned us to eat towards the picnic area or else the “noseeums” would eat us up. Tiny gnats, biting midges, impossible to see but you could sure feel them. The evening was beautiful but one didn’t want to spend time outside.
Vince presenting a new Gnome to Patti Jackson
I was very pleased that my cousins, whom I had only met online before, Brad and Mindy Lawmaster, drove in from Jacksonville to meet me. I was touched and honored.
L-R with the Lawmaster Family
Hannah, Sam, Mindy, Emma, Brad, Jack, Barry
Next door in a bar the owner made it Karaoke night. It was a throw down of talent between Vince Schiano and Rob Keleher. Everyone else sang for fun but these two sang for keeps. I was explaining to one of the patrons and pointing out each person and why they had no reason to smile or laugh. Everyone’s lives had been changed by cancer but here we were, one group, laughing like we may not have laughed in years.
It was another pleasant morning. My group consisted of Meg Shipman, Jae Slye, Gwyn Reece, and me. We were Group 1 and this time we could roll out of the hotel after the dedication circle.
Atlantic Ocean
With cue sheets showing left turns when they should be right turns andvice versa, the cue sheets have become a thing of the past. We just followed our driver, Alex Wright. Each day was special and this would be a special day.
It was yellow jersey and I wore a yellow jersey. My Team Fight jersey was dirty and smelly so I wore my CCC jersey as the back was a tribute to Jake the Hero Grecco.
Alex, Meg, Jae, Barry, Gwyn
Alex drove ahead and would wait for us at the turns. While we would pass he would be jumping up and down and waving the Team Fight flag. LSU must have lost a hell of a good cheerleader when he left.
Alex Wright
As we meandered down the coast we occasionally had to go inland on US 17. That is not a fun road to cycle on.
Ferris Wheel, North Myrtle Beach
Twenty eight miles in we missed a turn as he wanted us to turn on 16th Street. Instead we went to 15th Street then turned back one block. As we passed the First Baptist Church of Surfside Alex spotted a playground full of kids. He had an idea – the right idea – and we all doubled back for a photo op. Alex first asked the teachers if the kids would pose with the flag but they suggested we be in the picture as well. And we did. Yep, we used this kids for a photo op.
The Kids of the First Baptist Church of Surfside
It was very meaningful meeting those kids and their teachers. I wonder if they went home and told their parents about these cyclists riding by.
One teacher told us about a pediatric cancer center at the Medical University of South Carolina and told us to contact Jacqueline Kraveka. And we would. Well, we would try.
It was fun, and more relaxing, riding on the coastal road. But eventually the coastal road ran out and we had to ride on US 17.
I don’t like Rte 17 in Virginia and I don’t like it in South Carolina. Four lanes, no shoulder, and heavy traffic. But Alex followed right behind us for more than 20 miles which gave us a protective barrier. Because cars were coming at speed on a large vehicle and not four cyclists, they had to move over. But many saw “honk if you hate cancer” written on the van and gave courteous honks as they passed.
Gwyn and Meg coming over a high bridge near Georgetown
Our moment of truth came when three sheriffs’ cars went by and none stopped to warn us not to block traffic. That made the rest of the ride even better.
We had a good ride. At 63 miles it was a personal best for Meg.
Jae, Barry, Gwyn, Meg
On the drive to Hilton Head I called three numbers to reach Dr. Kraveka. We wanted to come by and visit their cancer center. When I reached someone who seemed to know what I was talking about I was informed they were having an open house today at 4:00 and it would be a bad time to swing by. I was disappointed and I think my colleagues were too.
We had located one of the other groups and could have had two groups visit the cancer center. I have a personal interest in pediatric cancer and count this failed visit, even though it was not planned, as my one disappointment in the trip.
Andy Veliuona and Rob Keleher at Sonic in Charleston SC
As we drove the two groups met up at Sonic in Charleston. Rob Keleher had never seen car hops on roller blades so this was a treat. Then we motored on to Hilton Head.
