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).
It was a comfortable 60 degrees and getting warmer. A great day to ride. No warmers would be necessary today. I dedicated my ride to my friend Elaine B.
I was in Group 1 with Meg Shipman, Jae Slye, Paul Lemle, and Chris Zahlis. Except for Chris, all were cancer survivors but Chris may be the biggest survivor of all since he lost his 10 year old son, Dominic, to cancer five years ago. Unthinkable pain for a parent.
Barry, Chris, Jae, Meg, Paul
Arriving in Durham, we parked one mile away so we could at least give the appearance that we had biked in from somewhere. We did. Dunkin’ Donuts. We rode in from Dunkin’ Donuts.
Inside Relaxation Room at Duke
We were to visit the Duke Cancer Center. But this organization was not about giving hope to patients. This ride was loosely “modeled” after the Spokes of Hope ride from Indianapolis to Washington DC/Baltimore in 2012, but was more about relationships. With hospitals.
We were given a tour of the facility. We saw a relaxation room. And a store of wigs for chemo patients. Met hospital administrators. Yippee. But at the end Duke arranged for us to meet some patients and the organization warned us not to take any pictures due to HIPPA. Of course, the law applies to medical providers releasing patient information, not a bunch of cyclists. We called B.S.
The day at Duke spoiled a day of riding. Not that we didn’t have enjoyable riding. We did. We just weren’t able to complete our 50 miles which we were supposed to do.
On a gorgeous day our other groups rode by the U.S.S. North Carolina and took a ferry across the sound. Those were routes I would have preferred but I knew, if done right, our real mission was to bring hope to patients. Today I got to do that if only briefly.
Samantha, Paul, Meg, Chris, Kristy, Jae, Barry, Laura
Although disappointed that I could not ride more today, I was honored and humbled to have spent part of my day off the bike visiting patients at the Duke Medical Center. I can bike anytime. This was a special day.
We finally were “wheels down” in the early afternoon. As we rode we twice discovered the cue sheets weren’t that good. Sometimes they told us to go left when it should have been right. After twice going the wrong way we came to an intersection. Cue sheet right. Barry left.
My group challenged me but I told them to look at the sun. Key Wets was east and south. The cue sheet said to go west. That did not make sense. Although they started into the sun, eventually they turned around and followed me. We sort of blew up the cue sheets after that.
The group activity and dinner was at a firehouse in Myrtle Beach which we missed because we spent so much time at Duke. Three days in a row late for dinner. Once we arrived at our hotel, last, we went to Outback Steakhouse.
Campbell University
Chris, Barry, Meg, Paul, Jae
And at night in the hotel lobby as I was doing referee assigning, I was up so late that the night manager opened the restaurant for me to get some breakfast.
Photo Credits: Matt Brown (for most but I claim credit for the bike on top of the van photo)
A chill in the air greeted us outside the Best Western hotel in Zion Crossroads, Virginia. Like yesterday, it would be a day for leg warmers and long fingered gloves. After breakfast we got our group assignments and mine was Jimmy Kondisko and Jae Slye along with our drivers, Liz Kaplan and Vince Schiano.
At our dedication circle I dedicated my ride to Joe Petrucelli.
Meg, Patti, Barry, Paul
We drove south on U.S. 15 and then to a very remote location out in the woods. We didn’t know much about our route except our mileage today was supposed to be 60 and Liz had said we would end about five miles north of Farmville. Shortly before we turned off toward our country start location, I saw a sign that said Farmville 21 miles. Seemed to me we had 60 miles to go 16. We could do this!
Jimmy, Jae, Barry
Even though we had cue sheets we weren’t sure which direction we were to head. A local drove up in his pickup truck. While Liz was asking directions I saw the gun. Well, guns, handguns, on the floor in his truck. Welcome to rural Virginia.
Weather Barn which is actually painted vinyl siding
Once oriented, we pushed off with confidence. In the first couple of miles we were greeted by a 3-legged dog chasing us. Then a 4-legged one. Then two 4-legged ones. Repeat (except for the 3-legged dog). It was that kind of day.
A Couple Miles of Gravel Logging Road
Early on Liz, at least figuratively, went off cue and directed us down a gravel logging road. Two miles on gravel. It was that kind of day.
A Chalked Turn for us to Follow
Liz decided to go ahead and “chalk” the turns. Well, one turn. A very nice smiley with a left arrow. It would be the only turn she chalked.
When we came to US 460 the turn wasn’t far but it was a major highway, fast traffic, and no shoulders. We all discussed how best to ride “protected” from the traffic. As we discussed our plan a convoy of at least 50 army vehicles came by. We were wearing “camo” jerseys and many vehicles saluted us with a friendly horn tap as they passed by.
Thumbs Up to the Military
At one intersection Liz and Vince were waiting and directed us to turn right and informed us of a trail ahead. The trail was the High Bridge Trail. We rode for a few miles on the gravel rail bed which was quite enjoyable although the wheels didn’t roll as freely as on pavement.
We reached the end and saw we were getting closer to Appomattox and farther from Farmville. We turned around and headed towards Farmville, just enjoying a day on the bike. As we approached Farmville we noticed an upside down smiley chalked on the road. Jimmy pointed out we had passed this way before. We laughed. And laughed some more. We had just ridden a figure eight. It was that kind of day.
Liz wasn’t happy. She knew we were way off course and was worried that she would be in trouble. Why? I don’t know. We were having an enjoyable day on the bike even if pointed in the wrong direction. But we enjoyed the ride no matter where we were headed.
Jimmy and Vince
One of these guys is going the wrong way
We rolled into Farmville and met Liz and Vince. Aware that we were under time constraints to get to Durham, we still wanted to ride our assigned distance to “do our part for the team.” At that point we had given up on actually finding our way to the real route. Jimmy and I wanted to push forward, on the rail trail, just for fun, and go over High Bridge, a high trestle on the old Southside Railroad (later Norfolk Southern).
We urged Vince to grab Jae’s bike, even though it had a women’s designed seat. We had fun with him as he struggled to control it and its areobars but he loved riding eight miles with us.
Soldier
Normally a “roadie” I was glad that we found this rail trail. I doubt that I would travel here to ride it and it was definitely worth doing.
Barry, Soldier, Jimmy
High Bridge could have been called Long Bridge. It was high. And long. At the west end we found some reenactors, presumably Confederate, and stopped and talked with them.
It was also very windy. But it was a beautiful sunny day and a great day on the bike. In all we had ridden 20 miles on gravel.
High Bridge
We followed the trail and met Liz and Jae in Rice, Va., and then drove to Durham. Running late all day, after a quick shower we went to Raleigh Times restaurant for a group dinner. We were the last ones to arrive. It was that kind of day.
I began the day in Baltimore where we rode to Race Pace Bicycles on Key Highway. After a light breakfast of bagels we had a dedication circle on the sidewalk. I dedicated my ride to Jake The Hero Grecco.
Although the ride was billed as biking to Key West, in reality we would drive 3/4 of the way to Key West and bike one fourth of the way. We were formed into four groups with each group riding 1/4th of the day’s mileage. We rode over to the Inner Harbor where Groups 2, 3, and 4 would be transported to their starting locations. My group, Group 2 did the segment from Washington DC to Nokesville, Virginia.
Barry (L); Robert Della Vecchia (R)
We were transported by staff members Abby Ramirez and Vince Schiano. My riding group included Patti Jackson, John Beck, and Rob Keleher.
My group, Group 2, began in NE Washington, D.C. in front of a Catholic church. Two nuns came out and posed for our sendoff photo. We then followed the Metropolitan Branch Trail to Union Station, through and past the Mall and across the Memorial Bridge into Virginia.
Barry, Rob, Nun 1, Nun 2, John, Patti
Credit: Vince Schiano
On the Virginia side we rode up the Mount Vernon Trail to the Custis Trail and connected with the Washington and Old Dominion Trail out to the Virginia suburbs. In Vienna we stopped at Nottoway Park for a lunch of bagels. And peanut butter.
On the Mount Vernon Trail by the Memorial Bridge
Just out for a Saturday run
It was an uneventful but beautiful ride. It was sunny but the temperature struggled to reach 60 degrees. The day would be a day without cues because this was my domain. I have ridden every inch of this route many times and it was fun to just ride without worrying about turns.
Potomac River, Virginia side, looking at Memorial Bridge,
Lincoln Memorial and the Washington Monument
On the run in to Nokesville on Kettle Run Road, I caught a rider. I asked her how far she was going (a set up question to be sure) and she said “not far” or “just down this road.” Of course when she asked how far I was riding I told her “Key West” (always a good conversation starter).
Jan Roberts Stover
A brief discussion ensued. As we talked and I told her my name she told me my friends, Marty Cox and Acacia Ellis have talked about me. Small world.
John Beck on the Custis Trail
Cramping forced him to be shuttled
My team was astounded that I ran into a cyclist who knew who I was. They were astounded even more when arriving at Nokesville Park even the dog knew me. That was easily explainable since my son, Andrew, brought some items that I wanted to take with me but had forgotten. But Maggie was one that could not ride with us.
Barry, John, Rob, Patti
There’s also a story of the Gnome that traveled the world for years with Patti and somehow got smashed but that’s for Vince to tell.
Gnome. Before and After
We went to the restaurant, Positively 4th Street, in Charlottesville for dinner before driving to the hotel at Zions Crossroads.
At 11:00 p.m. I was visited by friends Scott and Margaret Scudamore for desert at the IHOP next door. At midnight it would be a late night but that was normal for me since it was the beginning of soccer season and, even on this trip, I had to burn the midnight oil to get the games assigned so the kids have refs.
What a strange weather month it was. And it resulted in my least amount of mileage in any month in two years. Less than December. Less than January. And fewer than February.
March came in windy and cold and went out windy and cold. In fact, on March 6 we had a snow storm so “severe” that the federal government in Washington, D.C. closed all offices for 1″ of snow. Weather wimps.
In between I was able to squeeze in at least one ride a week but seldom more. It was my last month at work and I hated to inconvenience my van riders by taking my bike to work to ride at lunch. So I didn’t.
Peter Bai
So it was good to get out today. I went to Columbia, Maryland and met up with some of the riders from the past and some riders for this year. It was chilly, high 40s going up to the 50s, and windy.
There may have been 20 or more riders and I was told to go with their A group. Thanks for pushing me, Kids!
Barry and Patrick
I rode again with Patrick Sheridan and Mike, a coach for the group. We had a good time.
I also ran into Peter Bai, who I last rode with on Mt. Tam in Marin Co., California. It wasn’t far. But it was good to ride with the young kids again.
This does and does not lend itself to a Top Ten list. I like to do a Top “Ten” because 10 is such a nice number. But for a year that began hoping I’d go to Italy or Ride the Rockies, I had to settle for something less. At least that’s what I thought. A year in which I rode more than any year before (6,500 miles) there are too many memories to narrow them to just 10.
It was a year in which I did not have a week without a ride. As for what defines a “ride,” I do not count the miles running “errands” including 0.5 mile to the Mall in D.C. at lunchtime to play Ultimate Frisbee. I define a “ride” as just that — it has to be a minimum of 10 miles to make my count. But I did count one ride of less than 10 miles – the 7.6 miles up Mount Washington. Was that wrong?
In all I had 10 days of more than 100 miles in the saddle.
My Top Ten (or 11)
1. Mt. Washington Auto Road Bicycle Hillclimb – When I first started dreaming about climbing the big mountains in Europe, I discovered Mount Washington. I wanted to do it once and now have ridden it five straight years. This year was crazy because I had all but decided not to go then changed my mind, drove up Friday morning, arrived late Friday, did the race on Saturday, then drove home Saturday night, arriving just after midnight. I remember this one most for the uber nice Gabinksi family who gave me a ride down the mountain: Vic, Alison, Alexa, and Lucas.
The Last 50 Yards
The 50 yards before the last 50 yards
2. Bike Virginia – I looked forward to Bike Virginia for a chance to ride with my cousin, Kay Walborn. We didn’t ride much, mainly because she was on course each day before I could ride to the course since I elected to stay at Bethany’s and Ashley’s places. But we rode some. I also rode with a former work colleague, John Dockins. But mostly I remember being struck by a car. That hurt. But I survived.
Barry with cousin Kay
(Don’t know the dork in the background)
John Dockins, Barry Sherry
3. Pedal Pal – Let me be clear – I wish I didn’t know what it was to have cancer. But I am a survivor and that has opened some new opportunities for me including being a Pedal Pal for Patrick Sheridan. I rode out on Day 1 with Team San Francisco from Baltimore to Alexandria and rode in with them on Day 70 from Mill Valley, Ca. to San Francisco. But it was mostly about Team Portland and Chey Hillsgrove supporting Jake the Hero Grecco.
Chris, Lauren, Patrick, Jeff
Patrick Sheridan, Barry Sherry
4. Mt. Tam – My friend, Eric Scharf, always said “you have to ride Mt. Tam.” And so I finally did. I was on a rental bike and missed my Trek Pilot. I really missed my bike. This bike didn’t have the climbing gears my bike did and I was suffering. But the best “compliment” may have been made by Kevin Barnett, when he asked what we did with Peter (Bai) who rode with Rodrigo Garcia Brito and me that day. Kevin said Peter came in immediately after the ride and crashed.
Peter Bai
View from Mt. Tam
5. Mt. Shasta Summit Century – While on the west coast I found the Mt. Shasta Summit Summit Century. Like Mt. Tam, I wasn’t on my own bike but a steel touring bike lent to me by Deron Cutright, a friend from our Trek Travel trip to France two years ago. Beautiful scenery and some pretty long climbs.
View of Mount Shasta
Early morning at the ride start
6. 24 Hours of Booty – My first Booty and it won’t be my last one. While I joined Team BootyStrong, in Columbia, Md., I rode in memory of Jake and established a team for 2013 – Jake’s Snazzy Pistols.
7. RAGBRAI – Every cyclist must ride across Iowa once and this was the year it worked out for me. I can’t say it is my kind of event because it is much too crowded but I enjoyed the point to point riding each day. And I killed the mileage knocking out 700 miles in a week of riding from South Dakota to Illinois.
Tractor at a road side Farm stand
8. Jeremiah Bishop’s Alpine Loop Gran Fondo– This is a fund raiser for some local charities including the Prostate Cancer Awareness Project. I invited Chey Hillsgrove to join me and we had a great ride until he crashed out.
Barry, Chey
9. Riding with Dad – I never went for a ride with my dad until he turned 82. Memorial Day weekend we rode on the Great Allegheny Passage between Frostburg, Md. and Meyersdale, Pa.
11. Livestrong Gala and Challenge — Given the 1,000 page report by the USADA outlining systematic doping at U.S. Postal and Lance Armstrong, I am still sorting out my thoughts. But thousands of cancer fighters not named Lance support and are served by Livestrong. It was fun being among them, and Lance, for a weekend in Austin.
Always ride for Jake
With 6,500 miles on my butt for 2012, I now have surpassed 10,000 miles for two years and 15,000 for three years. Cancer-free. I can’t predict where 2013 will take me although I would like to do Bike Across Kansas if the route is right and Ride the Rockies. A trip to Europe would be nice. And maybe a repeat of Bike Virginia. As for the Mt. Washington Hillclimb, I just received my private registration code since I have ridden it five consecutive years but don’t know if I will do that one again (I said I wouldn’t and I mean maybe).
The best rides are just following the road ahead and I’ll go where the road leads as long as my health permits.
One thing about distance riding is that you have plenty of time to let your mind take over and absolutely enjoy the peace and solitude on a bike. But when things aren’t going so well it can be too much time fighting the cycling demons.
While it sometimes felt that I have made this 70-80 mile ride a hundred times, in truth I have made it less than 15 times. The distance is nice but it’s also a dangerous ride with up to 10 miles on some hi-speed two-lane roads with no shoulder. It’s a matter of pick your poison depending on which of two major routes to take.
Having a family gathering at Bethany’s, it was a perfect day to bike. It was 32 degrees when I left the house. I was kitted up and was toasty warm. I rolled out of the house towards Manassas. I wasn’t concerned about time and thought it was a good thing because in the first 10 miles I seemed a little sluggish.
In Manassas I came to a road closure for their annual Christmas Parade. It took me down to Wellington and then over to Ashton Ave. I hadn’t gone this way, even in a car, but realized I was parallel to the very busy Sudley Road and was thankful that even though it was a mile or two longer, I have found a safer way through Manassas.
After a stop at the visitor center at the Manassas Battlefield Park, I headed west on Sudley Road. This is a dangerous two-lane road with no shoulder. Coming to the Aldie Market, I stopped and bought two Snickers bars. I was sluggish.
After crossing US 15, I stared ahead at Bull Run Mountain. I got on Mountain Road but was thankful this road was parallel to the ridge and I would mostly be going around the mountain and not over it. At Mile 40 in the town of Aldie, I stopped at the country store and bought a king size Snickers. I was sluggish.
Snickersville Turnpike, aptly named today, is an unmarked two-lane country road which is a beautiful ride. As it approaches the Blue Ridge it may trend slightly uphill but is mostly rollers, some of them pretty steep. It is a continuous ride of up and down.
After 15 miles you reach Bluemont at the base of the Blue Ridge Mountain. And here the road goes straight up. I was worried. I wasn’t feeling it. I was sluggish.
On November 9 I had ridden 50 miles but it wasn’t really a 50 mile ride. I rode to a doctor’s appointment and back and added a little more. That is important because the last long ride I had was on October 21 in Austin at the Livestrong Challenge. I had plenty of short rides but nothing more than 30 miles since.
I felt great that day. After 80 miles in Austin I pedaled faster — I averaged more than 21 mph over the last 20 miles. Solo. Not drafting in a group of riders. And I know that when the body is trained it knows how to release fat stores so that you can ride as fast, or faster, after 80 miles. Today, I was sluggish. And it was always on my mind.
Even the flattest section, Sudley Road, I struggled to average a pedestrian 15 mph. Actually, I didn’t average 15 mph.
Time dragged on. Every pedal stroke reminded me how unfit I am. The cell phone taunted me. Use it! Call ahead and tell them you can’t do it and come pick you up.
Every mile. Every mile I fought that temptation. I got to the top of Snickers Gap (US 7) and knew it was all downhill. Well, downhill to the Shenandoah River then flat, with rollers, the rest of the way.
Turning on Shepherds Mill Road every little rise in the road gave me trouble. As I passed Moose Apple Christmas Tree farm I pulled in and looked at maybe more than 50 cars parked. Although there was a big line waiting to pay for a tree, I went to the front “just to say hello” to the owner.
Moose Apple Christmas Tree Farm
I told him I was there during Bike Virginia and he told me he remembered. He said I was from Woodbridge and worked for the Postal Service. I must be memorable. That good feeling was enough to power me the next five or six miles.
My thought was my next goal – Sheetz. Even though it was two miles from Bethany’s I knew I couldn’t make the last two miles with a food stop.
I stopped at Sheetz. I ordered food. After paying and standing while waiting for my food I didn’t see any seats in the store. I felt too tired to stand and looked for a place to sit on the floor. But I didn’t. I was sluggish.
After eating and resting I got ready for the last two miles. Crossing US 340 there is a slight hill and I struggled to get up it then celebrated as I knew that was the last hill to climb on the day. One mile later I arrived.
I went in the house to a number of concerned family because I was so late. I explained I was sluggish. Although it has been six weeks since my last long ride I explained how quickly one can lose fitness. I blamed the cold as one burns more calories, I think, keeping warm. And pedaling with tights I figured must slow me down some too.
I was almost too tired to put the bike away but I knew I would have to before I could shower and shave the Movember mustache. I had leaned the bike against my parents’ car and now walked it down the driveway. I didn’t think much that it didn’t seem to roll freely. In fact, I had to coax it down the small hill on their driveway.
At the car I went to remove the wheels. Since I had been pedaling in low gear the chain was on the top sprocket and it’s easier to remove and replace the wheels if one moves the chain to the lowest sprocket. I lifted the bike and turned the crank with my hand and shifted gears. The wheel spun. Then stopped. Crap!
I looked at the rear brake and it had somehow been misaligned. The left brake shoe was solid against the wheel. I had just ridden 78 miles with the brake on.
Left pad was snug against the wheel
Stupid!
Of the thousands of miles I have ridden one thing I don’t normally do is check to see if the brakes are misaligned. But they can get pushed or knocked out of alignment and it’s an easy fix to put them back. One thing you don’t want to do is to ride 77 miles with the brake on.
PROLOGUE – How I got here began at Christmas. My wife wanted to find me a book about a cyclist who battled health problems so naturally found The Happiness of Pursuit by Davis Phinney. The book follows Davis’ life and career and is part about his cycling career and part about his battle with early-onset Parkinson’s disease. Davis also wrote about his father, Damon Phinney, who died from prostate cancer. Damon founded a group called Cyclists Combating Cancer (CCC) and I was intrigued.
It was hard to find an Internet presence for Cyclists Combating Cancer but I did. I got on an email thread for CCC and they were looking to purchase a table for ten at the 15th Anniversary of Livestrong. They had nine and needed a tenth. I replied that I would attend “in a pinch” but preferred they still look for a 10th. I’m not sure if they tried to find a 10th or just informed me that I was in. So I flew to Austin for the LIvestrong Anniversary Gala.
It’s not about the bike — is both a Lance Armstrong book title and a frequent comment of cyclists. But it’s not about the cyclist either. Arriving Friday for the Livestrong Gala was a bit weird. With a damning USADA report just released outlining years of doping and Lance electing not to defend himself, this would be his first public appearance since the report. But nowhere would people be more supportive than at the 15th Anniversary Gala. If Lance had friends then he was among friends.
Yellow Carpet Entrance at the Gala
I was conflicted as I knew I would be. Lance, the founder of Livestrong deserved the benefit of the doubt. But fresh in my mind was the report detailing 15 years of cheating. Of lying. And yet I knew.
Two years ago I celebrated being cancer-free by flying to France to ride in France and to see the last week of the Tour de France. I flew my daughter, Ashley, over to meet me. She was in Business or First Class on American Airlines from Dalles to Paris. She was with a Vice-President for Amgen and the VP turned the conversation to doping. And then she asked rhetorically “Who do you think supplied Lance with his EPO?” That was strange for this person to offer such a statement unsolicited and I never told anyone else this information. But the truth would eventually surface.
With all of Lance’s teammates lining up to take admit their part, the time was right for him to take responsibility. But he seemingly never addressed any of the allegations other than to rely on the tired statement that he passed 500 drug tests.
Minimum Bid for Lance’s Seven Podium Jerseys: $10,000
From backstage Lance appeared and the crowd stood. I wanted to remain seated but also wanted to see so I stood too. It was weird for me. During his prepared remarks, he only talked about Livestrong. But there was a technical glitch so he and Matthew McConaughey appeared together and Matthew referred to the past few weeks. Lance said he has had better days – but he’s also had worse. That seemed sincere until …
Twelve minutes before the Gala
…This morning I was in line with the 100-mile group to roll out of the Palmer Event Center for the Livestrong Challenge. I couldn’t quite see the stage but I could hear Lance. And he told the crowd that he has had better days – but he’s also had worse. It left me wondering if it was just a line that his PR people came up with.
In Memory of Jake the Hero Grecco,
But it’s not about the bike. And it’s not about the cyclist either. Livestrong is about the 28 million people with cancer (or is that fake too?).
Memory and Honor Bibs at the Livestrong Village
Yesterday I made a “bib” in Memory of Jake the Hero and promptly hung it at Livestrong. I made another. I hung it there too. I made one in my hotel room and the wind tore it off. I made a fourth.
None of my bibs survived the strong winds
We rolled out of Austin on a warm morning. The temperature was already in the mid-70s. I never felt comfortable in a pace line and did very little riding on others’ wheels. If I was going to I was scared off around Mile 22 when some guys started to pass me and when one got right beside me to went down hard and took out three riders with him. He just missed taking me down.
I think every farm in Texas is a ranch
The wind was quite strong but never so much that I complained. I love riding with the wind in my face — maybe not quite this much, but it was fun.
Big flags. Big wind.
The elevation was listed as only 2,200′ for 100 miles which seems like almost any flat ride would have that. I expected more and believe that was off by at least half.
At Mile 48 we were riding on the flat plains when I could see cyclists ahead climbing a “wall.” My initial thought was “What in the hell is this?” followed by “Alright!, finally a real hill.”
I’m not that good. But I like to climb. And this one was formidable. It wasn’t overly lengthy, maybe 3/4 mile, but it went from the valley floor to what must be a butte summit and rose quickly. I had not used my granny gear and never thought I would but seeing this hill up ahead knew that I would.
Only about 200-300 yards in they had painted “16% grade” on the road and I’m sure it was. I would estimate that fully 2/3 of the riders I saw were walking at some point. I passed many — slowly, but I passed. I would not let a hill beat me.
At the top was a rest stop manned by the Texas 4000 — the University of Texas group that bikes 4,000 miles from Austin to Anchorage. I had met some of the kids yesterday at check-in and a couple even called out my name. That was pretty cool actually.
Texas 4000 Rest Stop
The Livestrong Challenge is well-supported with a rest stop about every 10 miles. And I stopped at every one to fill my water bottles. At each stop, I’m sure stronger riders kept on going so I may have lost my place in line with faster riders. Actually, when I lined up at the start I was at the end of the 100-mile group anyhow so basically anyone faster than me I probably never caught. I was here for a relaxing and reflective ride.
Some of the Texas 4000
These students were doing community service for their 2013 team
Around Mile 70 we pulled into Blanco Vista, a new suburban community. While 3,999 riders stayed on the street, I took to the path/sidewalk which was about 20 feet wide. I curved back and forth making for a fun ride. Riders looked at me leaning into the curves of the empty path. I told them this was lots more fun. I was feeling great!
Bike on stand at rest stop. The back wheel never felt right.
At Mile 78, I decided I could lift the pace a little bit. Once I hit the road I started pulling back people for the next 20 miles. Not once did I get passed by anyone. As I approached an intersection a policeman slowed me down to let out opposing traffic but told me not to stop and lose my momentum. Once traffic cleared he waived me on. I popped out of the saddle for an extra burst and he said “Wow! You look like you just started riding.” I told him I felt good.
Texas 4000 Information Stand
And I thought about that. Maybe all the fast riders started before me and were gone but this is the place where lots of distance riding kicks in. For those riders who were pushing themselves beyond a typical 20 or 30-mile distance, the body simply isn’t used to it. And I actually felt better at Mile 80 than at Mile 10. For him to recognize that meant a lot.
I stopped to help this deaf rider at Mile 69
For the next 10 miles, I just pulled people back until I came to an intersection with about 30 cyclists waiting. Once we got the green I moved past them all except one rider, Mark from Irvine, California. He came with me and sat on my wheel. He told me he was glad I came along. He said he just wanted to follow me (in my draft) as long as he possibly could. I obliged. I don’t really know if it costs me anything in terms of energy doing all the pulling. Usually, we would swap off but I felt that strong I did all the pulling. I even backed off at a couple of rises in the road so I did not drop him.
Riders on Course
With one mile to go in city traffic, we were in with other riders we caught. And after feeling good all day with no signs of cramping — it hit. A severe cramp in my right hamstring. I could not pedal. We were going downhill and I unclipped but any position hurt. I thought I might have to be sagged back with a mile to go. But I would crawl to the finish line first.
Austin
We came to the last light before entering the riverside park at the Palmer Center where the finish was. I unclipped, and put both feet down. When the light turned green the cramp was gone and that was that. Mark and I rolled into the finish, I stayed to the right for survivors.
Still selling Livestrong gear
At the Philly Challenge, the survivors’ finish was a separate chute to the right. And that was special. In Austin, it was just staying to the right. Still, the announcer called out my name and I was handed a yellow rose.
Stay to the right
My friend, Vanessa, came down to meet me at the finish. And that was special. It was the first Challenge where I had someone at the finish.
I don’t know the future of Livestrong. But I hope it remains a vibrant cancer-supporting organization. At the heart of the fundraising are the challenges. They are wonderful events – to ride – to reflect – to remember.
At the finish in Austin
As for Lance, I had a great day on the bike. When people passed me I didn’t feel challenged that I had to beat them. And over the last 20 miles, I averaged more than 20 miles an hour – solo — which is the best I think I ever have done at distance by myself (wind-aided). But it never was about beating every person I passed. It was simply me having fun. I hope that someday Lance can ride a bike for fun. Maybe Lance can find peace on a bike.
With a feeling that I left something unfinished, today was the perfect day to return and finish the Civil War Century. On September 8 I had begun the climb of South Mountain when severe storms hit. I cut the route short electing to return to the safety of the van.
Library at Blue Ridge Summit, Pa.
A chilly morning, it was 48 degrees when I left home with a forecast of temperatures in the 70s. Arriving Thurmont, I discovered it was something called Colorfest Days and there was no free parking to be had anywhere in Thurmont. I drove up Catoctin Mountain Road about two miles and decided I would pull over next to the stream, completely off the road.
Covered Bridge near Fairfield, Pa.
I decided to leave the jacket and long finger gloves behind, believing in the forecast. A mistake.
Tunnel in Md. near Blue Ridge Summit, Pa.
I climbed over South Mountain, partly knowing where I was going and partly just exploring. I was surprised when I entered Pennsylvania that I was immediately in Blue Ridge Summit, a small town I had ridden through before on three occasions. And it made sense to me that this was the bailout route for the Civil War Century should someone on the full century route decide after 65-70 miles they wanted to go back to Thurmont. It really is all downhill back to Thurmont from here.
Sabillsville Rd aka Catoktin Mt Route
I had hoped the road markings from the CWC were still in place and they were. Except when they weren’t. At one intersection there was new asphalt down and my marking was gone. I went part on memory and part of feel. And I was right. Mostly.
A painted over marking on the road
Gettysburg, Pa.
Leaving Fairfield, Pa. I came to an intersection and did not see any markings and assumed no turn was necessary. After a few hundred yards I knew it felt wrong but I kept going. I sensed where Gettysburg was and figured I could still get there even though I missed the actual turn.
Fairfield Inn, Fairfield, Pa.
Arriving at the battlefield I got back on course. I found one of the markers and it had been covered in black. I wonder if the Park Service did that but wouldn’t be surprised if the CWC staff did that after the event out of respect for the battlefield.
Gettysburg National Park
Leaving Gettysburg I lost the trail, or so I thought, but picked it up again. The winds picked up and were in my face the rest of the day. And I was cold. Until about the final 10 miles, the temperatures held steady in the 50s and I didn’t have a jacket.
I wasn’t feeling well. Only a 50-mile ride I had four packets of gels/GUs and ate them all hoping it would help. I was a bit light headed but managed to stay on my bike. Unlike most rides, a sense of relief came over me when I arrived back at the car. Fifty (miles) was enough. But five weeks after I started, I can now say I finished the ride.
EPILOGUE – As a testament to how crappy I felt or how strong the wind was, I averaged a higher speed the first hour which included the 7-mile climb from the start than I did the last hour when it was flat.
I don’t know if it’s me. Or if it’s men in general. But offer me help and I’ll probably turn you down. Maybe if I accept assistance it indicates a sign of weakness I’m not ready to admit to. So when Greg, and his daughter Sam (Samantha), from Rocky Mount, NC, saw me changing a flat and offered me a ride in their truck, my first instinct was to say no. But then I thought about I had one CO2 cartridge and if I messed that up, I’d have to walk 3.5 miles back to where I parked. And I had wedding to get to.
Greg and his daughter Sam
I was here for the wedding of friends David Vito and Kelley Noonan. I came down a couple of hours early to be able to ride. I parked in Nags Head and headed south on S. Virginia Dare Trail, the road parallel to the main highway. No shoulders but a reduced speed limit. Still, one “local” (I assume, he had North Carolina plates) gave me an ear full of horn even though I was all the way to the right and there was a wide open lane to the left. I gave him a friendly (true) wave.
David, Barry, Kelley
But what’s up with the road rage in North Carolina? David and Alistair Hastings had a couple incidents yesterday and Pierce Schmerge said he was yelled at also today. Hey North Carolina: Bike Belong.
At the south end of Nags Head is Cape Hatteras National Seashore. I headed south on the main road, Rte 12, Cape Hatteras National Park Road. Although the speed limit was 55, there was a decent sized shoulder. I went into Bodie Island to see the lighthouse and was disappointed to see that it was covered by scaffolding.
Bodie Island Lighthouse. Closed for Remodeling.
Heading south again, I wanted to cross the sound but only went about 200 yards on the Oregon Inlet bridge. No shoulder. None. And 55 mph. I turned around.
Oregon Inlet Bridge
I headed back to explore a little more of Nags Head and thought I might try to make it up to Kill Devil Hills and photograph the Wright Brothers’ Memorial. But on my way I flatted. I’m not sure what it was that I pulled out of the tire. Possibly a sand spur, which I pulled out of my skin. Ouch!
Pier at Nags Head
My track record with CO2 cartridges is about 50%. If I was in a group ride and messed it up I could always borrow another tube or cartridge. But if I messed it up it now it would be walking time. So Greg and Sam offered and I accepted. And I’m glad I did.
One Property is Footloose. The next is Fancy Free.
I got to the wedding with plenty of time to spare plus I was able to change my flat in my room with a floor pump. Thanks to Greg and Sam and for once I knew when to say yes.
I was very pleased that Chey Hillsgrove could join me for Jeremiah Bishop’s Alpine Loop Gran Fondo Presented by the Prostate Cancer Awareness Project. Chey was Jake Grecco’s Pedal Pal and while I had met him in Baltimore before his cross country trip, I had never ridden with him. So today would be the first day.
Barry Sherry, Chey Hillsgrove
Last night we checked in then went next door to Dave’s Downtown Taverna. By luck, we ran into Erin Bishop, the event director, who invited us to the Gala. That solved our issue of where we would eat. After the ceremonies, we met Robert Hess and his sister, Jodi, as well as Jeremiah Bishop. Robert presented me with a cycling jacket from the Prostate Cancer Foundation Project. My friend, Scott Scudamore was the emcee so we got to see him and his wife, Margaret, as well.
Barry Sherry, Jeremiah Bishop
Today in the parking lot, my cousin, Krissy Harlan, came over from JMU to say hello. When we got called up to the line they called fundraisers followed by cancer survivors. I was the only survivor who went to the front. Strange, I thought. There are more of us.
Krissy Harlan, Barry Sherry
I found myself on the front row with Ben King, racer for Radio Shack-Nissan-Trek. Ben was U.S. National road race champ in 2010. We chatted briefly and had a photo op.
Ben King, Barry Sherry, Robert Hess
As we rolled out I went just one block then pulled over waiting for Chey. As he rolled by I jumped in, moved up and caught him.
Chey was on his new Lightspeed bike and hadn’t yet been fit to it. After 18 miles as we came to the base of the first time climb, we pulled over to adjust his seat. There were probably 15-20 people at this point who had also pulled over. It appeared to be a woodsy-bathroom break too, but not for us. Although we had discussed doing the climbs at your own pace, and I thought he’d pull away from me, I pulled away from him. Chey hadn’t been on a bike since the 4K ended August 4 and his bike was stolen in Tacoma. So it was understandable enough that he had lost his bike fitness.
Barry climbing Shenandoah Mountain
Last year I did this five-mile climb in 48 minutes, just riding at a comfortable pace. And I was passed early by a number of riders. Today was different. Although I was passed by one rider, I pulled back 10 riders on the climb. My time was 35:05. It’s not going to win me any prize but I love seeing the 13-minute improvement over last year. And it was rated eighth out of 18 in my age group so it was above the line.
Top of first climb, Shenandoah Mountain, Virginia-West Virginia border
At the top, I waited for Chey. Then we bombed the descent on US 33. I pulled back another 10 riders on the descent, at one point passing a motorcycle as we both cornered. I was flying. My top speed was 46.7 mph.
After the first rest stop, we came to the Medio/Gran Fondo split, off the main road and up a three-mile dirt/gravel road with 15-18% grades. Rough. Last year I, along with everyone else, walked most of the way as this section was all mud. Today it was dry and while I made it most of the way, there were two sections that had so much gravel I simply dismounted and walked for 100 yards. And I’m not ashamed.
Meadow in the gravel section in West Virginia
As I waited at the top I talked to Richard Canlas, from Texas, who made his way up. He was waiting for his buddy, Ronald “Zeke” Smith, from D.C. Zeke tried the route last year but couldn’t finish so he had his friend from Texas join him. While Richard expressed concern we might miss a cutoff point, I told him whatever happens, happens.
It’s a bit of a fixer-upper
After Chey crossed the top we hit a dangerously steep two-mile descent then pulled into the second rest stop. The other two riders pulled in after us but rolled out one minute ahead of us. And then we were last. The last riders on the Gran Fondo course.
As we started to climb, Chey was struggling with his bike. It may have a bottom bracket issue but being set up with a 39 tooth small front ring, the bike was slowing him down. He needed a compact. Still, we rode together and could see the two riders in front of us. I went ahead and caught Zeke who by then was alone. I think minutes before he told Richard to go ahead and make the cutoff without him.
One tough gravel climb
Arriving at the cutoff intersection we were told we had missed the time and would be rerouted over to the Medio climb to get us back on course. No problem. Although Zeke took off, I quickly hit the descent, passing him going 40 mph. When I got through all the sharp curves I sat up and let Zeke catch and pass me. I looked back but didn’t see Chey. At the bottom, I soft-pedaled for Chey to catch up but he didn’t. I was only three miles from the top and I stopped at the rest stop. And waited. After about 10 minutes and asking about Chey we heard he had crashed hard. I was sick.
Some riders think gravel is pretty
Chey’s lack of riding for six weeks plus learning his new bike left him tired. At the Medio/Gran split I should have taken the Medio route. Instead, being macho, we turned up that awful gravel road and Chey started walking almost immediately. That should have been my clue. And now, he crashed. Damn me! I thought I killed Chey.
A few minutes later the SAG van came in and Chey was in it. I saw a smile on his face which was a relief. I hadn’t seen a smile since he began the climb on gravel. He got out and stood up gingerly. He was bleeding and his shorts were ripped up.
The guy running the rest stop was packed up and ready to go. He already had his son in the front seat and could take two passengers and two bikes. The quickest way back to get Chey treatment was to get him back to Harrisonburg. Maybe that was even quicker than calling for an ambulance here in a remote part of West Virginia. And Zeke decided he had had enough. So the two of them took the car back to Harrisonburg.
I headed up the 7.5-mile climb. This was the second climb on the Medio route. It was paved now but last year was dirt. Unlike last year, there was no timing station setup.
Riding in memory of Jake
Jake loved blue butterflies and we are left to wonder about some mysteries in life. I have never seen a blue butterfly in my life. But since Jake left us these blue butterflies seem to appear at the strangest times.
I knew I was last on the course. I had the climb all by myself. As I started off without Chey I became very emotional. I felt that I had pushed Chey to ride the long route. Maybe he even crashed because he was tired. And here I was all alone on this climb. Just as I was to start to cry a blue butterfly fluttered by. What the hell?! I had never seen a blue butterfly before. But I thought of Jake. And I knew that Jake’s Pedal Pal, Chey, would be OK.
My mind turned to the climb. After a mile or so the SAG van passed me then went about 1/4 mile ahead and waited. I passed and the van leapfrogged me. And so it went. I believed the driver was watching the clock and at some point was going to tell me I was beyond the cutoff and to jump in the van. Sometimes he walked down the road looking for me. But I kept the pace and kept going.
I was so sure he was going to pull me off course that I had my speech ready to go. He can’t make me get off the road. He could have my timing chip and my race number but I have the right to the road. I was going to finish the ride for Jake and that was bigger than his cutoff time. In fact, I probably had an hour in the bank. But nothing was going to stop me.
Chey getting in the van
Then I started thinking about taking the lanterne rouge award for being the last finisher. Reaching the summit I flew across the top of Reddish Knob and began my descent. I was flying and got halfway down the mountain when I saw a number of riders. I caught the last guy going about 35 mph then tagged him. “You’re last,” I told him. He looked at me not knowing what I was talking about. Then I drifted back – to last – and waited for the SAG van. “I thought you said I could be last.” He laughed at me.
I pedaled ahead and came to a rest stop with lots of cyclists. I wasn’t going to be last.
Just 18 miles to go and the roads in this section were rollers — undulating ups and downs with some flat sections. On a gravel road, I passed a farmhouse with the name Wenger on the mailbox. Then about 100 yards away I passed another farmhouse. A Mennonite woman waved to me. I stopped.
Her three young daughters were watching from the door and I asked if their name was Wenger. It was. I told them my great-great-great-grandmother was Mary Wenger. There was a pretty good chance we were distantly related. (This from my knowledge of Wenger genealogy) The girls, dressed in their plain long dresses came to see me. I gave them my business card. We were so different. They in their very conservative dress and me outfitted in blue/black spandex. With FUCANCER on the jersey. They must have wondered where I went so wrong.
I pedaled to the finish. Crossing the line the announcer called my name and said I was on a hot list. Then he found it to read that I was a survivor. I would have preferred him to say what I wrote — I was riding in memory of Jake Grecco – the toughest superhero I know.
Finisher’s Medal for Alpine Loop Gran Fondo
Chey was waiting at the finish. He was banged up and bandaged up a little. Nothing broke, he didn’t go for X-rays. Lots of road rash and some mechanical issues with the bike that will have to be fixed. But hopefully, we can do this another day. And I didn’t kill him.
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