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September 22, 2013July 23, 2015

Ride of Silence

WOODBRIDGE, VIRGINIA

I never participated in a Ride of Silence before. But when I got a call on September 6 asking if I was OK because a cyclist was killed on Spriggs Road, I knew I needed to do something.

I first went looking to see if the Washington Area Bicycling Association or Potomac Pedalers had planned a Ride of Silence. I couldn’t find anything. Then I realized that this was something I would have to create. I contacted my friend, Brad Hancock, and asked what he thought, and he said go for it. We picked today’s date, put up an event page on Facebook, and posted in the Prince William Cycling Group’s Meetup page and on Potomac Pedalers.

We had no idea how many riders to expect. With wheels down at 9:00 a.m. I rode to Forest Park H.S. arriving around 8:40 a.m. I was very surprised what I saw as I pulled in. There was a good turnout.

Walking around was Carol Callahan. She is the widow of the cyclist, Joseph James Callahan, 66, who was struck and killed September 6, 2013 while riding on a bike path next to Spriggs Road. She was so appreciative of every rider who came out to honor her husband. Two of her sons, Jimmy and Josh, rode with us.

At 9:00 a.m. Carol took a group picture. I then went over the rules (no cell phones, no talking, riding 10-12 mph) and had a moment of silence for Joe Callahan.

We took the bike path, single file, along Rte 234 to Hoadly Road. I led the group and kept it mostly around 10 mph. Once we got to Spriggs Rd we rode on the shoulder. As we passed Coles Elementary School I saw Carol outside her car taking pictures of us. Clearly this day meant a lot to their family.

We turned on Spriggs Road. This road is a four lane road, curb to curb with no shoulder. Although there is a bike path next to it, it is the bike bath that Joe Callahan was on when he was killed. We took to the road and rode in twos.

About 250 yards from Hylton I could hear a bagpiper playing. This was a nice touch. We left the street and crossed over to the bike path, pulling up in front of the makeshift memorial at the school. The bagpiper was playing Amazing Grace. When finished, he stood at attention. We were, true to the ride, silent. He played another number. When he was finished we left.

Amazing Grace

It was only a couple more miles back to Forest Park HS. Even riding down Spriggs we feathered the brakes and kept the speed around 12 mph. Words cannot describe what it’s like to ride in silence. Maybe these words can:

The Ride of Silence

Tonight we number many but ride as one
In honor of those not with us, friends, mothers, fathers, sisters, sons
With helmets on tight and heads down low,
We ride in silence, cautious and slow
The wheels start spinning in the lead pack
But tonight we ride and no one attacks
The dark sunglasses cover our tears
Remembering those we held so dear
Tonight’s ride is to make others aware
The road is there for all to share
To those not with us or by our side,
May God be your partner on your final ride
– Mike Murgas

(Source: http://www.rideofsilence.org/ros_poem.htm)

It was one of the shorter rides I would do and certainly the slowest. But it truly was one of the most meaningful. May God Bless the Callahan family and it is my hope that this day brought a little more healing to their lives.

Barry, Jimmy, Josh, Brad

September 8, 2013July 23, 2015

What’s in a Jersey?

THURMONT, MARYLAND

Group rides that aren’t timed often lead to small talk on the road. My experience is when I wear a destination or event jersey someone will talk to me about it. Be it the Mt. Washington Auto Road Hillclimb or Alpe d’Huez, I will have people asking me about the event or sharing their own experiences.

I brought my Ride the Rockies and Spokes of Hope jerseys to wear today unsure of which I would go with. When I wear a cancer jersey very few people will say a word. But I had a feeling and decided to go with my newest kit. I wanted to display the first blue Spokes of Hope kit made (last week).

It was 52 degrees as I rolled out of Thurmont. My legs felt heavy. Very heavy. I refereed a soccer match last night. As the assignor, I had a late turnback of a game and rather than scramble to find someone to take the game I took it myself.

A Pretty Barn and Horse near Myersville, Md.

When I referee I am not one to stand in the center circle. I give the game the effort it deserves and I worked my butt off running with the U16s. I got home after 10:30 p.m. I showered and went to bed.

Now pedaling my legs felt very heavy. I was conscious not to go out too fast but still found myself passing people on the low part of the seven mile climb over the Catoctin Mountain which greets the riders on the Civil War Century.

Rest Stop at South Mountain

I was passing people and eventually realized that everyone I had been riding with were now behind me. I was going out too fast.

Not the bike I rode

At Mile Nine I felt a twinge in my quadriceps. I knew I was in trouble. I was cramping just nine miles into a 100 mile ride. I decided to back off and take it easy and hope to make the full route. It was a beautiful day for a ride warming up to the mid 80s.

Antietam National Battlefield

Navigating through Boonesboro, Md. was interesting. A quaint little town it apparently held a community yard sale on this day. Traffic was backed up or cars were simply double parked. It was a little bit sketchy at times getting through there safely.

A lasting image of the community came when I rounded a curve and saw three kids in the yard, probably 7-9 years old. I called out “Morning!” One of the kids yelled back “GET OFF THE ROAD!” It sort of reminded me of Gene Wilder in Blazing Saddles stating “the little bastard shot me in the ass.” I just thought these kids have already learned this from their parents. They don’t have a chance to grow up and be a compassionate member of society.

On the climb up South Mountain headed towards Blue Ridge Summit, Pa., I was passed by five riders. One said “I like that jersey.” Once over the top I caught the group (meaning they stopped) and stopped with them. There I met Kim Goldman and gave her my card. We talked about the jersey, the organization, and cancer. She invited me to ride with them.

Save for the last hill before Fairfield, Pa., I stayed with them but even then quickly caught back up to them. I generally felt good. After the rest stop we pedaled on to Gettysburg. Fighting off the cramps there were times when I felt good.

The moment of truth came while riding through the battlefield. I had dropped to sixth wheel (last) as we were required to ride single file through the park. There were even three volunteers with signs to remind us. Out of the blue came a loud pop. My front tire blew.

Help at Gettysburg (Josh Sayre)

This was the second time on the day. I never had a tire blow out on me before but earlier, as I was leaving the rest stop at Mile 50, I had a tire blow. Rather than change it on the side of the road I walked 200 meters back to the fire station where I changed the tire. Now just 20 miles later, it happened again.

Would my new friends keep going? Or would they stop and help this stranger? Without a spare tube (already used) I was screwed, But Josh Sayre, riding in front of me, heard my faint yell of “flat” or at least heard the tire blow. He stopped and gave me his tube. The SAG was right behind us so I could use their floor pump. This change was easy.

After a group photo we were rolling again. At Mile 85 we were riding along at a good pace when we came to the last rest stop. They indicated they were not going to stop but I was low on my fluids. Any thought about continuing with them immediately disappeared with a cramp. Our pace up the small climb to the rest stop was just enough to induce more cramps.

L-R: Ben Herbert, Josh Sayre, Kim Goldman, Ben Aiken, Mike Davis, Barry Sherry

I pulled over and could barely lift my leg over the frame. Looking for something, anything, with salt, I found Doritos (yes). I refilled with Gatorade. I drank five bottles on the day with seven bottles of water. I took off for the final 20 miles. And I was deep in the suitcase of pain.

I could find no rhythm in pedaling. When I did I would stay there. Sometimes it was a slow cadence. Other times it was faster. But then a cramp would come and I would have to change position, cadence, and twice, stop to stretch. To make matters worse, although it was all flat, there was mostly a headwind to contend with.

My Salty Snack

The ride was a struggle. Actually, from Mile 60 to 85 it was a breeze as I was talking with the group. But the last 20 miles, riding solo, was very difficult. My skin was white with salt deposits.

The irony is I like distances. I often do my best in the final quarter of a long ride. But I was ill-prepared. I even had a jar of Endurolytes which would fend off losing all the salt and electrolytes. At home. In a drawer.

It was a difficult ride. And while I did set a personal best on the climb up Catoctin Mountain, I will remember the difficulty of the day and how ill-prepared I was. But I will remember most meeting new friends on the ride. All because of what’s on the jersey.

September 1, 2013July 23, 2015

Spokes of Hope

TREXLERTOWN, PENNSYLVANIA

The father of cyclist Davis Phinney and grandfather of Taylor Phinney, Damon Phinney, created an organization called Cyclists Combating Cancer (CCC) before he died from prostate cancer. CCC historically has been the largest single group raising funds for the Livestrong Foundation.

Spokes of Hope has grown out of CCC as an action group visiting cancer patients and spreading hope. I first met some of the Spokes of Hope last year at RAGBRAI.

Valley Preferred Cycling Center

I was invited to Trexlertown to ride on the Velodrome during the last Friday night races of the season at the velodrome. This was a UCI (International Cycling Union) event with an international field.

The day kept unfolding with surprises and kept getting better as the day grew older.

Pros Warming Up on the Track

I arrived at the velodrome around 3:45 p.m. for a practice session on the track. Riding on the velodrome is unlike the normal riding we do. This was a 333 meter track with 28 degree banked curves.

Pediatric Cancer Survivors

We joined seven pediatric cancer survivors including Duncan Micheltree who was being honored. Cindi Hart gave us a quick lesson in terminology and track riding and we all rode off practicing on the track. The kids stayed down on the apron and Cindi took us newbies (me?) in a pace line up on the track.

Paceline on the track

Wild. The bike of choice is a “fixie” which is a fixed geared bike with one speed. When you pedal it goes forward. When it goes forward the pedals rotate. There is no coasting. And there are no brakes.

My very limited experience tells me these bikes are actually safer than a typical road bike. Once on the track if I crept up on the rider in front of me in the pace line my options were to overlap wheels or brake. Braking was out of the question so I overlapped wheels which can be very dangerous on those 28 degree curves. Riding a fixie one can just slow down the pedals.

As I went on to the track I heard my name being called. Very strange because I knew no one here. I did a double take and heard my name again. I saw a woman and went over to her. “I’m Andrea Mitcheltree,” she said. “I’m friends with Stacey and Gary (Gravina).”

Barry with Duncan Mitcheltree

Then I remembered. I met Andrea last year in New Jersey at Jake’s funeral. I am guessing that Trexlertown is less than 30 miles from Phillipsburg, NJ.

And it was Andrea’s son, Duncan, who was the feature of the night. This was so cool.

Duncan with his parents, Andrea and Eric Mitcheltree

After our practice sessions we left the track. I then sent Stacey a message to “come see Duncan and me ride tonight.” She was confused.

Three Colors of Spokes of Hope

I left the velodrome and went across the street to the “track.” They have a one mile cycling track which is very cool. This is not an oval but a meandering road with three lanes – one for fast cycles, one for rollerbladers, and one for everyone else. What a great park.

The Track at Rodale Park

The people started coming in to watch the races. Once the events started I took a position at the top of the boards on Curve 1. I was shocked when Stacey tapped me on the shoulder. Although I had called her it certainly sounded like they would not be able to make it on this special night.

The Fast Lane

Before the last (feature) race of the night, we were introduced. Spokes of Hope with the pediatric cancer survivors. The crowd cheered heavily and for a minute I inhaled it all but I know it was for the kids – not me. I rode high on the wall and in the back stretch a number of kids held out their hands for me to “Low 5” them. I did.

Pros at the Start of their Race

The last event was the 120 lap “Madison.” Teams of two riders would tag team. The “resting” rider would sweep down from one of the high curves and catch his partner from behind. As he did the front riding would grab his hand/arm then pull him ahead — a sling shot move, really. Then he would safely maneuver up to the wall and wait for the next lap to change places.

Keep in mind there’s no coasting or stopping with these bikes. So if one wants a rest they have to pedal farther during their rest period so they have longer in between their shift at riding all out. Stacey, Gary, and I stayed for all 120 laps. It was an exciting event.

Riding in the Countryside

On Saturday our Spokes of Hope group met at the velodrome and went for a 25 mile ride out to Topton and back. It was a great day for a ride and I think I saw more cyclists on the road than I did cars. This was a special weekend of riding and am looking forward to next year.

Spokes of Hope at a barn in Mertztown

Trexlertown

_______________________________

Ride in the Country

August 29, 2013August 18, 2015

Boys and Girls Club

CROZET, VIRGINIA

My good friend, Scott Scudamore, moved from Montclair to near Charlottesville a couple of years ago. We don’t get a chance to ride together much because Scott’s passion is mountain biking and mine is road. But a few weeks ago Scott asked me to come down and ride with him with the kids from the Boys and Girls Club.

The Boys & Girls Club of Charlottesville has a program to get kids on bikes. Any kid who signs up and completes the program gets to keep the bike. A pretty nice road bike. Depending on their age, they had goals all the way up to completing a century.

I arrived at Crozet, met up with Scott, and met the kids from the club. Most of the kids riding were older and Melissa asked Scott to ride with Eli, a pretty big 12-year old, on a different route from the other kids.

Scott had invited me down to ride Afton Mountain. The older kids were going with two other adults over Afton Mountain but Scott and Eli were given a 30-mile route that didn’t go over the mountain. Scott encouraged me to ride with the older kids. I chose to ride with Scott and Eli.

Eli is strong. The three of us headed out into the mountains. We had a great ride on a beautiful day. We stopped at Chiles Peach Orchard, looking for a rest room (closed) and enjoyed the aroma of the orchard.

We arrived back about the same time as the kids in the older group. There was a cooler of frozen snacks. The frozen lemonade pops were the bomb.

It was great riding with the kids, especially Eli. They will all meet their goal on September 15. I wish I could join them but have other plans that day.

EPILOGUE (October 15, 2013) – I am hoping this was not my last ride with Scott. Just one week after Scott rode with the kids on their challenge, he was mountain biking at Bryce Mountain Ski Resort. A crash broke his C1 and C2 vertebrae. As I update this he is paralyzed from the neck down.

What I remember most about August 29 was Scott was insistent that I ride with the older kids on Afton Mountain. He invited me down to ride Afton Mountain but didn’t understand that it wasn’t where you rode but who you were with. I was much more interested in riding with Scott than riding over Afton Mountain.


Scott, at the start line of the Boys and Girls Challenge, Sept. 15

Please keep Scott in your prayers and good thoughts.

August 17, 2013July 23, 2015

Following the Dirt

BRATTLEBORO, NEW HAMPSHIRE

I enjoy mapping out cycling routes using RideWithGPS.com then following the route I created. I stayed overnight in Brattleboro and wanted to ride in Vermont, even if it really was New Hampshire, before making the three hour drive to North Conway.

Twin Bridges in Hwy 9. The Bridge on the Left is for Bikes. Or People.

The Connecticut River divides Vermont and New Hampshire and any good ride needed a river crossing, thus the reason I would be riding mostly in New Hampshire.

Brattleboro, Vermont

I started out in
Vermont then crossed the river. After turning off Highway 9 I turned
onto a dirt road. I hadn’t even thought about being on dirt and briefly
thought about turning back and just following pavement. But this dirt
was great. It was so hard packed that it was almost as good as being on
pavement and was better than some asphalt I have ridden on.

As the road went
deeper into the forest the only sounds were from the water running next
to the road and the whirl of a lumber mill somewhere through the woods.
It was perfect.

Railroad Bridge in Brattleboro

But perfect would
come to an end. At a turn on Merrifield Road, the road became rough.
There was a washboard quality to it with gravel. And when I crested a
hill and had to descend I was very nervous.

Dirt so perfect

I was trusting my route when the dirt ran out and I was back on asphalt. After a half mile a cyclist came from the other direction. He was on a mountain bike and I did a quick U-turn to follow him. We had a great chat as we rode.

It turned out that following the advice found in Mother Earth magazine, he ended up relocating to Bedford, Pa. where he owned a cafe for seven years. We talked about Bedford, Altoona, and Somerset.

Barn on Merrifield Road

He also told me that we were riding through a very poor area in New Hampshire but that Brattleboro was a “hippie town.” He said they call it the “nuts and granola” town and warned me that it legal to walk around naked and that I might see some folks in the nude. I didn’t.

This car matches my bike

I would not take a road bike on the Merrifield Road portion of this ride again but thoroughly enjoyed the discovery of a new area. Back at the hotel, I took my morning shower at 11:30 a.m. and checked out which was in great contrast to my usual 6:30 – 7:30 a.m. checkout. It was nice being last.

August 12, 2013July 23, 2015

Prostate Cancer Pony Express

WASHINGTON, D.C.

The Prostate Cancer Awareness Project
sponsors an annual motorcycle ride called the PCAP Prostate Cancer Pony
Express. It ended today by the U.S. Capitol. And I joined them. On my
bike.

Barry Sherry, Robert Hess

They were late arriving so I did lots of circles in a traffic circle. I discovered that is the perfect place to ride. Once you’re in a traffic circle you always have the right of way as long as you stay in. So don’t leave.

Eventually I found Robert Hess, posed for a few photos, then called it a day as I was on my way home from Pennsylvania. I felt sorry for my friends. They had to ride motorcycles while I was on my bike.

August 11, 2013July 23, 2015

Punxsutawney Redeux

PUNXSUTAWNEY, PENNSYLVANIA

It’s reunion time! First the States reunion followed by the Lowmaster reunion the first two Saturdays in August. It gives me the opportunity to ride from my parents’ place near Somerset to the reunion site near Punxsutawney.

One hour photo – Top of Summit Hill out of Johnstown

I just can’t seem to leave early enough (daylight) to make it on time and decided to do something different today. Planning to drive to Pittsburgh to see the Steelers v. Giants with my father, I asked him to drive my car to Punxsutawney after dropping me at Davidsville, Pa.

This would knock the first hour off my trip but it also took 30 minutes or more driving there so it really only saved me 30 minutes. It also took 17 miles of the easiest riding out of the trip.

Two Hour Photo – Duman Lake, Cambria Co.

Grey and overcast, I wore arm warmers when I took off. Coming out of Johnstown, it started to rain, lightly. I just couldn’t escape the rain on these trips. Like last week, I felt good on the climb but managed a higher descending speed because the roads were mainly dry on this trip.

In Northern Cambria I stopped briefly at my cousins, Don & Nancy Lowmaster, for a water break but they weren’t home. No worries. I pushed on.

Three Hour Photo

In Cherry Tree I stopped for about 15 minutes and talked to the young clerk in the post office. I am friends with the postmaster, Michael Perrone, and was surprised to learn that he had recently retired.

I took the usual back roads through Banks and Canoe Townships in Indiana Co. At one point I came to some barking dogs, one unleashed. Not my friend. I like dogs and I was able to make friends with this one. He licked me. Although he wanted to chase me when I left.

Not quite my Four Hour Photo

I told my dad it would be 4 1/2 hours and I pulled in 4:40 minutes later — it was those extra 10 minutes in Cherry Tree.

I like this route. Route 271 between US 422 at Belsano and US 219 in Northern Cambria is especially nice. Great pavement and very little traffic plus a real nice four mile downhill from Nicktown to Northern Cambria. I’m ready for more reunions.

August 10, 2013July 23, 2015

Blue Knob in the Rain

ALTOONA, PENNSYLVANIA

Despite breaking my collarbone last month, I am currently on the second longest consecutive streak of daily rides with 42. I define a “ride” of at least 10 miles although I could make exceptions in special cases like the climb up Mount Washington which is 7.6 miles but is more intense than most 100 mile rides.

With rain forecast all day it looked like it was a good day for a rest. But after spending a morning in Johnstown at the library the rain broke and I decided to go to Altoona to ride Horseshoe Curve. On my way there I decided to try something different – the climb up to Blue Knob Ski Resort.

I parked at the park entrance then went down to Pavia which I would consider the start of the five mile climb. I got about three miles up and I knew I was caught. The skies turned black and within a few minutes I was soaked. The rain was coming very hard.

Not much to do except ride through it. I made it to the top and looked for a place for water or someone who had water. I found none. The climb was harder than I thought. Despite the consecutive days of riding, none had been intense or had been hill climbs because of my injury.

Still raining hard, I started down the road. Normally loving descents, I did not like this. Not one bit. Visibility was poor. Braking was difficult. And I was very scared about a crash that could shatter my still-healing collarbone.

But I made it safely to my car. I checked and recorded 10.1 miles. It would count. (Although I’d be OK counting less than 10 today given the conditions. This was a bike ride.)

August 4, 2013September 26, 2016

A Second Ride With Dad

MEYERSDALE, PENNSYLVANIA

Last year’s “First Ride With Dad” was such a success that my sister, Betsy, and I decided to do it again. She rode the Great Allegheny Passage trail from Frostburg, Maryland and I parked in Rockwood and rode to Meyersdale where we told our father to meet us.

I screwed it up last year thinking Frostburg was at a higher elevation than Frostburg. So we left Frostburg and rode much of our planned route uphill. I could not do that to Dad again.

I chose today’s route, this time fully aware of the elevation change between Meyersdale and Rockwood (trending downhill). And I wanted my dad to ride across the great Salisbury Trestle, a 2,000 foot span that crosses the Cassleman River and US Rte 219.

We were high up on the trestle. It is about 200 feet above the valley below. It was windy and I was afraid my dad might clip his handlebars on the side of the bridge. But we made it through safely.

Betsy and Dad taking a break

There are a couple of cuts in rock croppings but for sheer beauty the section between Meyersdale and Rockwood doesn’t quite compare to some of the other sections.

Just three weeks earlier my father had three stents placed in his heart and at age 84, was riding on the GAP. Not too shabby. He wanted to stop three or four times to rest and it was no problem.

When we finished at Rockwood we met a dad with two kids. He and his daughter agreed to take our picture.

Sculpture and his daughter, Rockwood, Pa.

There are a couple of bike sculptures in Rockwood. Turns out this man was the creator. He offered to take our picture by them but we didn’t. In retrospect, since he was the creator, we should have, but he didn’t tell us until after we said we didn’t want to walk to them.

Barry Sherry, Betsy Sherry, Harry Sherry

July 4, 2013July 31, 2021

Now That Hurt

ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA

It was supposed to be a simple ride along the Mount Vernon Trail and across the bridges that span the Potomac River into Washington, D.C. But this one hurt.

I parked at Gravelly Point. It had rained much of the morning although the rain had mostly stopped. Everything was wet and as I set off there were still raindrops falling although the sun would soon come out and make it steamy in a way that only D.C. can be after a summer rain.

Just a mile into the ride the rain subsided. After the Memorial Bridge, I slowed to a crawl as a gaggle of geese were blocking the trail. A runner from the other direction slowed to a walk and I remarked that the geese weren’t in any hurry. He agreed. These geese were not afraid of people. Or bikes.

Once underway I came to the boardwalk section which is an elevated trail for about 200 yards. At the end one must zig-zag to stay on the trail. Technically, it was built as a 90 degree left which comes to a T. To the left is the trail to the Teddy Roosevelt Bridge. To the right is the trail which continues into Rosslyn and one can cross the Key Bridge into Georgetown. But for riders on the Mt. Vernon Trail, this is really just a zig-zag nuisance.

But the wooden intersection is wide enough that one can simply cut the corners and keep most of their speed. I did.

These boards were wet and in this section they are painted too. Why in the world they would be painted I don’t know because that only makes them slicker. I cut through the apex of the corner ending up near the left side of the boardwalk trail as I came through the intersection.

As I exited the turn I saw a rider coming at me. And in a millisecond my wheels slipped out from under me as they continued through the curve. My bike was suspended mid-air horizontally as the wheels slammed up against the sideboards.

It happened quickly. My last crash I knew was coming a second before I hit and I instinctively braced my fall with my hand and broke my wrist. There was no warning this time.

One second I was upright and the next second I was hitting the deck hard. I landed on my shoulder and my head whipped against the deck. My thought was shock at how hard my head hit and then thinking I’m so glad I am wearing a helmet.

I heard the cyclist coming towards me crash and I felt bad that my crash apparently caused his also. Unlike me who was riding on road tires he had mountain bike tires and he still went down. It was like ice out there.

But he was also the first on the scene to check on me. I stayed down for maybe 20-30 seconds but he was quick to help me up which was not a good thing to do. Check to see if something is broken.

He reached for my hand and one wasn’t enough. With both hands he dragged me up. He asked if I was OK and I managed a manly response of “yes.” I briefly started to sit on the trail then thought that wasn’t too convincing that I was OK. So I thanked him and started pushing my bike to the end of the boardwalk trail.

Upon reaching the end, no more than 50 yards and probably a lot less, I thought again about sitting but decided to get on and ride. My body wanted to sit down. But I ignored the warning signs and remounted. Clearly, I wasn’t right and after crossing the Key Bridge into D.C. I decided to make my way back to the car and head to the E.R.

I was in pain. Lots of pain. But I rode an additional eight miles after the crash before reaching the car. Had I turned around immediately I would have been 2.8 miles back to start. But I wasn’t thinking straight.

At the E.R. I had little mobility in my arm and shoulder. Still, I was surprised when I was told that I broken my collarbone. I sort of expected that I would have heard a snap or crack which I didn’t. Of course, I heard my bike crashing up against the wall and me hitting hard. But the pain is enough to believe him because now that hurt.

UPDATE JULY 8, 2013: It does hurt. I have withdrawn from RAIN – Ride Across Indiana which is on July 13 and the Mt. Washington Auto Road Hillclimb on August 17.