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Truly Horrible

CLERMONT, FLORIDA

The Horrible Hundred occurs over two days if you include the Saturday orientation rides. Those are delightful and, like group rides, occur under adult supervision. Not so the Sunday ride.

I stayed at the Fairfield Inn and Suites in Clermont, a four-mile ride from the hotel to start. With chilly temperatures (low 50s) I was unsure what to wear. I was also checking out of the hotel so I was a few minutes later leaving than I had planned to meet John Dockins at the start.

Rest Stop One

This would also be a test of the Wahoo Elemnt Bolt, a new bike computer I bought in Jacksonville on Friday. I decided to mount both computers as a test.

I downloaded directions to the start on my Garmin and followed those yesterday. I didn’t load the route today thinking I would retrace yesterday’s route by memory. I was wrong. Normally with a keen sense of direction, the fully gray skies gave me no directional bearing. I had gone three miles and was literally, just feet from the hotel where I started and never noticed that until viewing my route hours later.

I wasn’t getting closer to Waterfront Park. A message appeared on the Bolt. “Where are you?” It was from John Dockins. Messages on my bike computer, pretty cool.

I called him and told him I messed up. I was two miles away and would be there in eight minutes but he was raring to go. I realized I was on course and told him I’d ride back to meet him.

There was one problem with my plan. Although I was two miles from the start, the route would circumvent the lake first before climbing up the hill to our meeting location. I rode back. I waited. And waited. And waited some more.

Eventually, I was convinced John had ridden by and we missed one another. John had suggested meeting at Rest Stop One. At this point, I figured I had missed him so I rode ahead to Rest Stop One.

Our bikes at Rest Step One

As I approached the rest stop I thought back to the map I had looked at before the ride. Only then was I pretty sure they went around the lake. I had cut off eight miles. But it’s a ride, not a race, and I was adding four to and from the hotel to get the same mileage.

At the rest stop, I called John. He was five miles behind me. I told him I’d ride back for sure this time. And I did.

Rest Stop One

The first segment to Rest One was not fun. This is a big event and mob mentality takes over. At two red lights, I was the only cyclist to stop. Even with cross-traffic tens of cyclists went by me, sometimes flew by me, through the intersections. I thought I might be hit by someone flying by.

Cold Weather Gear

Another time I was on the shoulder – to the right of the lane line and a cyclist flew up the gutter passing me. This was unsafe and not fun. And another group came by so fast and so close I jumped on the parallel bike path to avoid them. I hadn’t remembered such aggression before but will now consider this my last Horrible Hundred.

Tour of Lancaster (County) Jersey

John and I stopped at Rest One. The stops were well stocked with food and big lines. Not a complaint, just an observation. And great volunteers.

VeloFix Guy at Rest Four

John and I stayed together mostly. I let him go ahead on Sugarloaf Road but caught him on the climb. I set a PR on Sugarloaf on a day I was determined not to try. And sometimes when we try we go into the red and blow up. Slow and steady set my PR. (And now am in 5200th place.) This was ironic because I was thinking this was my last hill climb of 2019 and to enjoy it, not go out to set a PR.

Rest Stop Four

As we came back into town we were on the last hill. It had probably a 12% grade. A few feet in front of me I thought a rider was doing a track stand (balancing the bike while stopped). I wondered, briefly, why he was showing off this skill. Then he stopped and fell over very hard. And yelled. Very loudly.

Rest Stop Four

He had cramped badly and could not pedal nor could he unclip from his pedals. I stopped along with a woman. We tried to get him help and a SAG ride for the final two miles but he said: “I must finish this.” It’s a man thing. I understand. After five minutes I helped him to his feet then rolled on. The Bolt had a message from John: “Are you OK?” If it can respond I don’t know how to do that so I ignored it. (Note: It can’t.)

It was a chilly day. We had some very light rain in the beginning but mostly it was cold (low 50s) and windy. The phone was in a jersey pocket under my vest. Using it meant stopping and unzipping the vest. Maybe removing a glove too. So I didn’t take pictures on the road or try to call or text John (using Siri).

We went to lunch then said goodbye. I had to find my way back to the hotel. I noticed the mileage was different between the two computers: 73.0 and 72.9. I thought they would be perfectly equal. I have more testing to do.

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Everyone is Walking

CAMARILLO, CALIFORNIA

This was Phil’s Cookie Gran Fondo and I had decided to ride the 50-mile “Sugar Cookie” route. I was to meet Anthony Venida and waited at the starting chute with Robert Hess who was riding the family route which departed a little later.

Entrance between two hangers. Start/Finish is on the other side.

I didn’t see Anthony and let everyone roll through ahead of me before starting last. Once on course, I received a text from Anthony that he started with the “Chocolate Chip” route as some of his friends were riding the 80-mile route.

Start/Finish line


I rolled out, although I could not go fast, and the first seven miles were pancake flat. I was chatting with a rider wearing a Mont Ventoux jersey. Although much younger than me, I still had to secretly question his equipment when I saw it looked like his lowest gear was about a 17t cassette. I was running 32t.

“Are you OK?” – “Yes, just getting pictures of peppers”


The climb, which I remembered as a three-mile climb, had a much different profile than I remembered. The first 1/3 mile kicks up and then it appears to level off. It’s still a climb but much more gradual for the next two miles. And then, it whacks you in the face full force.

Cookies everywhere

My friend, with the Ventoux jersey, sat on my wheel and I didn’t mind. As we got to the wall, there were people pushing their bikes. And they were all over the place. The road kicked up – more than 15% (and maybe 20%). I was counting but lost track of the walkers but was over 100.

He had passed me on the climb – until he had to walk too

 

Part of me wanted to join them. And I wondered what I would have done had this been a normal Sunday ride with nobody watching. But they were watching. And I kept climbing although it was a real effort.

West Protero Road in Lake Sherwood


When I reached the summit, I turned around to look for Mr. Ventoux. He was nowhere to be found. It would have taken a super-human effort to push his gear up that climb. I don’t know when he got off to walk.

FAll horse farms up here – Lake Sherwood


There was a second intermediate climb of two miles which was also considerable. The Fondo made no mention of it, maybe because it wasn’t a timed KOM. It was also on Pretero Road, two miles after the summit of the first climb. At the bottom of the second hill, I stopped and visited the VeloFix mechanic who was finishing up changing a tire for a woman. We mentioned the climb on Pretero Road and he said, “everybody is walking up that hill.”

Mulholland Road

Although there was a rest stop at the base of the last climb, I did not stop because it was a rest stop at the base of a climb. The time off the bike would cause lactic acid to build up and my climbing would be crap. More crap than usual, that is.

Mulholland Road – this is nice!

I continued past and started up the climb of Westlake Blvd. This one was tough with sections of the lower portion pushing 20% grade. About one mile up it gets easier – 10-12% grade.

Westlake is particularly steep at the bottom portion and very windy. As we would discover, owners of fast cars love driving this road on Sunday mornings. It was almost a constant din of revved engines and occasional squealed tires.

PCH
Pacific Coast Highway (PCH)


At the top, we transitioned onto Mulholland Highway for a trip to the ocean. The road was closed to vehicles as much reconstruction is going on due to fires one year ago. Not having a big ring available because my front derailleur had failed yesterday meant that I gave up some speed here although it wouldn’t hurt me much. That would come later.

This woman, walking away, had stopped and I borrowed a floor pump from her to change my flat.
This woman had a floor pump which I could use

 

My recollection of Mulholland before today was that it was downhill the entire way. That is not true. There are some uphill sections even while the road trends downhill. Once on Pacific Coast Highway, I was treated to a delight – a tail wind. It was here that I would really miss my big ring.

Lunch inside an airport hanger
Lunch inside an airport hanger


I was quickly out pedaling my gears. Oh how I needed the big ring to take advantage of the wind. Instead, I was spinning and getting passed by others. And then I flatted. As it happened, I pulled over on the Pacific Coast Highway next to a woman who was running SAG for her family. She had a floor pump which made it easier to change. And asked for my used tube so her husband could repair it. Deal.

Barry Sherry, Phil Gaimon, Anthony Venida


Anthony texted me. Although he had finished 30 minutes (or more) earlier, he had come back to an intersection to ride in with me. Robert met us and we all enjoyed a delicious gourmet cycling lunch.

This is not just your typical cycling lunch. There were chefs from L.A. competing with their dishes. This is the best ever. Superb.

Robert Hess, Barry Sherry, Phil Gaimon, and Anthony Venida

 



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Phil’s Sugar Cookie

THOUSAND OAKS, CALIFORNIA

Last year I came for the weekend and rode the longer route (Chocolate Chip Cookie) on Saturday. Having done that route, it made sense to try the other route this year, the Sugar Cookie.

The official car of the Cookie Gran Fondo

I stayed at a Homewood Suites in Thousand Oak and mapped out a route to bike to registration. It was 10 miles door-to-door so I would be adding 20 miles to the “40-mile” Sugar Cookie route. I think 55 miles the day before the Gran Fondo would be enough.

Phil Gaimon as Cookie Monster

The temperature was great but there was one issue. I was riding into a low rising sun. At times I had to shield my eyes to see. That was not a problem for me but I also worried that there may be drivers fighting the sun and may not see me on the road. I was nervous.

Barry and Phil’s Mom

Phil Gaimon met me at registration and have me a warm greeting. He made it a point to introduce me to his mother.

Barry and Susan Walters

After Phil’s group rolled out, we had 30 minutes before our group was ready to depart. I heard a voice – that voice – and I recognized it from Seinfeld. It was Susan Walters, who played the girlfriend that Jerry never knew her name – DOLORES! Susan was trying to take a selfie with friends and I offered to take a photo for her. And then I got a selfie (not really, one of her friends took our photo).

Barry and Anthony Venida

Before we rolled out, Anthony Venida, came in with some friends of his. They would be riding tomorrow. But I have known Anthony for six years and it was good to see him again. He also was recovering from a traumatic brain injury earlier in the year. But instead of being found unconscious next to a river, he went all-canyon and went over a cliff. He truly is a lucky young man.

Cookies on the ride

I thought I might ride with Susan’s group but they rolled out about 10 minutes before our official time. I never saw them on the road.

The views…

Once on the road, the route started out similar to what I rode last year. Out a canyon road and then an eight-mile climb up a pretty tough mountain. There is 4600′ of climb in just 37 miles. This is not an easy ride. After the climb, it was a short loop and back to start.

Phil Gaimon and Barry

On my descent, I tried to get in the big ring and get some real speed going. But the bike did not want to shift. My computer told me I was in the big ring but my eyes and my legs told me I wasn’t. I stopped and determined that a piece in the derailleur that lifts the chain had sheared off. I figured, and confirmed this with the VeloFix van, this is not a simple fix but a part replacement would be necessary. But not for this weekend. I would be out of luck for the rest of the weekend.

Frankie Andreu

On my return trip I never could get some good speed going. I was a slow-poke going back.

Frankie Andreu and Barry

Back at the site, we had a great lunch. I also chatted a little bit with Frankie Andreu, who also doubled as Phil’s race announcer.

At the evening Gala

I bought some items at the merchandise tent, left the items (on purpose) and my wallet (not on purpose) to be picked up later this evening at the VIP Gala. There’s a bigger ride tomorrow.

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The Bacon Ride

LEBANON, INDIANA

The ride begins with the stay the night before. Trying to bump my status with Marriott, I was just looking at their properties. The Courtyard by Marriott is a nice hotel and was about $20 less than Fairfield Inn. The only difference for me was Courtyard did not offer a free breakfast.

At Flap Jacks in Lebanon

Now, was it worth $20 for a free breakfast of powdered scrambled eggs and concentrated orange juice? I decided it wasn’t. I took the Courtyard, left early, and ate at Flap Jacks in Lebanon. Ordered the three-pancake breakfast. That was $6.27 so I came out $13 to the plus. (less tip, of course)

Lebanon, Ind.

Ken Hart greeted me at registration and said “I thought we might see you here since you were in Piqua, Ohio yesterday (posted on Facebook). Cindi Hart did a little better – a big hug. Always a big hug from Cindi.

Lebanon, Ind.

I went for a four-mile warmup ride in preparation for the 100-mile ride. Arriving back, cancer survivors (or warriors or veterans) were staged separately. Alexis Overbeek came over to meet me. We had been friends on FB for five years but had yet to meet in person. Today we did, She and her husband, Pierce, had come, at my request, to volunteer with Spokes of Hope. It was great meeting both of them.

Alexis and Barry

While a bagpiper played Amazing Grace while we were at the start line, I removed my helmet out of respect – and the riders took off. I was caught without a helmet. I put it on, tightened the strap, and found myself 100 places down in the roll-out. Without being too much of a jerk I passed 98 people and caught Cindi and Rena Smock at the front. The three of us set the pace until Cindi went ahead for some video. Then Rena and I led it out about 19-20 mph for the first five miles. We discussed we were probably burning too many matches and decided to let some others pull through.

At the start

 

It was another 15 miles to Rest 1. I just sat in and was pretty much amazed that it seemed the entire ride stayed together. That wasn’t completely the case as a shorter route had broken off but we were a controlled group to Rest 1.

Cindi Hart with instructions to newbies – “Eat more bacon”

It was there I would get – bacon. This is the Bacon and Smoothie Century. In fact, Pierce was dishing it out and overloaded (overdosed) me on bacon. Never thought I could eat too much bacon until today.

Can one eat too much bacon? Yes, yes one can. Pierce loading up the bacon.

 

We rolled out of Rest 1 pretty much as a group. I sat further back and the yo-yo-ing got pretty bad, especially when turns were involved. It was constant accelerating to catch up after each turn. Eventually, perhaps halfway to Rest 2, I let my group go.

Cancer Warriors

Now solo, I dropped back, got passed by a small group then two Spokes of Hope riders went by. Rena said “grab a wheel” and I did. In short order, we caught the small group. Then we started a true rotating pace line which was the best riding of the day. Rena and Tim Wozniak seemed to have organized the line and it was some of the best riding I did all year.

Paceline

With one solo rider ahead of us, we almost caught him two or three times. There must be something about the predator-prey instinct that cyclists have not to be caught even when it benefits them. When he was 100 meters up the road I said I was going to catch him and have him join us. I took off, caught him in no time, and told him he would be better off to soft-pedal and join us. He did. And we would have been better off too although in less than five minutes we were at Rest 2.

Rest stop

The sky turned black. Ken looked at his radar app and said we would get wet but no thunder or lightning. Ken would be wrong. We left out of the stop, had an overpass to cross (an Indiana hill) and I had the usual lactic acid after a stop. One group went ahead and I joined the second. We rode. We had probably five women and five men, all about equal ability.

Ken Hart assuring us we won’t get wet

 

Up ahead was a big dog and he (or she) did not want us on the road. It came at us in the opposite direction, misjudged our speed but then did a U-turn. He (or she) was fast. With people yelling I reached for my water bottle. I squirted him (or her) in the face and he (or she) backed off. I heard a woman say,’ “Wow, he just squirted him away.”

Rain pouring down

 

But then the rain came. It was gradual. At first, it was light and was a cooling rain. I thought we could ride like this all day. But then it was harder. Then thunder. Then lightning. We pulled into Rest 3 at MP 50 and the winds picked up. We helped move the pop up tents so they didn’t get destroyed or blown away.

Getting directions back to start (Pierce and Alexis)

We talked about cutting it short. We were given directions but when we left one rider thought we were finishing the route. And it felt like we were as we were following markings on the road. There was still thunder and lightning and I decided I would drop off the group and find my way on my own. I did not want to ride in a storm.

Cindi Hart with inspirational words

I dropped back, fiddled with Garmin’s Back to Start feature and it looked like we were headed back the right way. Except I had let the group go up the road. No worries. Today would be the day that I went over 60,000 miles cancer-free. I was happy being by myself for a bit.

Ken Hart welcoming riders

I got back to Lebanon, in the rain. I stopped at the bell for cancer survivors to ring. I rang. No response. But I didn’t expect any. The 100-mile ride became a 100 km ride. Spokes of Hope had closed the course due to the weather. It was a prudent and safe thing to do.

Lebanon, Ind.

I saw old friends, in the case of Alexis, met a friend, finally, for the first time, and went over 60,000 miles. It was a good day despite the rain.



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Piqua Redux

PIQUA, OHIO

This was simple enough. I came to Piqua to rid myself of ghosts. Or demons.

Great Miami River Trail, Piqua

I woke up here in May 2018. I had no clue I was in Ohio. At that time I was riding on the Great Miami River Trail. Retired Piqua police officer, Paul Sullenberger, found me unconscious and called 911.

 

Great Miami River Trail, Piqua

I came back today to ride with Paul. I parked by the mall in Piqua and rode towards Troy. It was surreal going through the area where I crashed. I don’t remember the area but, strangely, I could feel it.

 

The Atomic City, Piqua

Going south I made it through the crash area. I turned around in Troy and met a young woman named Kristy (sp?). She rode with me back to Piqua. Although she’s from Troy she had never been there (on her bike) and I showed her the trail which she hadn’t seen before.

 

An area similar to where I was found

We rode back to Troy and she went home as I went back to Piqua to Buffalo Wings and Rings for lunch. Paul was working a funeral and we would meet at 1:00 p.m.

 

Between Troy and Piqua, over the Great Miami River

At 1:00 we met in front of the library and rolled through town. We took Lockington Road to Lockington. As Paul turned on Kirkwood Road, I had him turn around so I could show him the Lockington I knew from 50 years ago.

Paul Sullenberger riding through Piqua

After the very quick tour, we headed north towards Sidney. Not all the way, just some country roads which made for a nice tour of southern Shelby County.

Paul Sullenberger, Barry Sherry

Back to the restaurant where I parked. Paul showed me the display on the pole which honors his family that served in the military. We had a good ride and it was nice to meet and thank the man for which I had no memory. (I heard a voice but did not remember him – or the EMTs.)



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Four-Country Ride

MONDORF-LES-BAINES, LUXEMBOURG

Our last day, and our biggest day. The preparation for this ride started on Wednesday at our team meeting. Fränk Schleck stated that he was going to offer two rides: The planned 155 km four-country ride and a shorter (100 km) ride that would only be able to take in three countries.

Sign of the roosters

To do a second ride, he would offer a guide, probably Glen Leven who is a mechanic for Trek-Segafredo, but no other support, i.e., no motorbikes. But he would need at least three volunteers.

Barry and Jens Voigt

Fränk asked us to think about what we were ready for after a week of riding. Two riders were consistently sagged throughout the week when we had time limits. I think Fränk was looking at those two as “volunteers.”

Glen Leven (and Martine Schleck in the shadows)

Even after the rest day, I wasn’t feeling much better. I was better but I wasn’t much better. The decision time was last night at the team meeting. I would love to go long and say I did a four-country ride but my body was telling me to volunteer for the shorter group. And I came to terms with that.

Jens Voigt

But then…

Fränk Schleck, Stephanie Voigt, Jens Voigt

In walked Jens Voigt to our team meeting. “Shut up legs.” And Jens is going to ride with the long group. That conflicted me as I wanted to ride with Jens but wasn’t sure I could keep with the group. But that option was quickly off the table. Fränk announced there would only be one ride. Everyone would start but if he felt someone was holding back the team he would tell them to get in the van, no arguing, no discussion. Having that decision out of my hand, I had to go long.

Jens Voigt – surprise guest at our Thursday meeting

We rolled out of Mondorf-les-Bains and a gap quickly developed back to the two riders. After 20 km (12 miles) just outside of Peppange we stopped as Fränk had gone back to help pace them. When they reached our group they stopped and got in the van.

My goal today was to finish. My strategy was simple. I thought I could stay with Jambo as we had ridden together quite a bit this week. We could form a grupetto of two if we had to as Fränk would not force Jambo, one of the organizers, off the course. But I didn’t have to resort to such a strategy.

Our first border was Belgium. We stopped at a non-descript border next to a farmhouse. The occupants were not thrilled we were there. They opened the door and their house smelled like a thousand ashtrays.

Belgium border

We rolled through a very scenic wooded section in Belgium, but only for 6.5 km (4 miles) and crossed back into Luxembourg. On another wooded scenic road, Fränk had us go from riding side by side (in twos) to one long paceline. And I was on Jens Voigt’s wheel. The speed ramped up as we kept this going for 10 km or more.

Luxembourg-Belgium border

We stayed in Luxembourg and crossed the country, west to east, traveling 64 km (40 miles). We crossed the Moselle River at Wormeldange to enter Germany and pulled over just inside the border. Next to the river in Germany was a bike trail with lost of users on this Friday afternoon. As I was taking a photo a German man (or maybe a Luxembourger on the wrong side of the river) started speaking to me in German. I think. When he saw I didn’t comprehend he asked, “what language?” He switched to English.

“But why no German?”, he asked. “You’re wearing the Luxembourg colors. I told him we were riding with Fränk Schleck. And Jens Voigt.

Source: Dan McDonough (Facebook, 22 Jun 2019)
Sitting: Barry Sherry – Keeling: Jambo (Jim Ray)
Crouched: Paul Lewandowsky
L-R: Carl, Frank, xxx, Dac Mcd, Scott Ireland, Gusty, Bryan Huneycutt, Will Swetnam, Jens Voigt, Margaret O’Rourke, Svetlana Martynova, Julie Trimble, Bob Pane, Scott Hesford

“Jens Vote?”, he exclaimed. I told him to come over and meet them. He said no and kept riding.

Moselle River from German side

We got on the bike path and hammered it for 19 km (12 miles). As we reached France, we stopped and one of our sagged riders joined us for the final push to home. Fränk made sure we rode at the pace of the slowest rider and we would finish the week riding together.

Newly AUTOGRAPHED phone case (by Jens Voigt)

As for me, I pushed through and maybe I shouldn’t have. But I had to, no? I was fearful all day that Fränk would say “you’re holding us back,” and secretly wished he did, but he never came my way. Jens only passed me going up one climb because he was ahead of me on all the others. As crappy as I felt, I never was last on a climb or even second to last.

Frank’s bike

It was a challenging day. I was just hanging on at times. I was breaking the ride into five-mile segments, just trying to get to the next one. There were times I wanted to cry out “I’m done.” But I kept going. And ultimately, I ended the day with the satisfaction of completing the day, and the week, that I set out to do. At the team meeting, I was recognized for powering through and never quitting.

We must be in France

What a week it was. Riding with the Brothers Schleck and Jens Voigt. Separate days in Holland, Luxembourg, France, and Germany and a four-country ride that included Belgium.



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Luxembourg American Cemetery

This was a rest day so we would only ride 28 miles. Tell that to your friends who can’t imagine riding 28 miles – on our rest day that’s what we did. And it was easy.

Fränk Schleck, Barry Sherry, Andy Schleck

Fränk Schleck met us in the morning at the bike room at the hotel. Once we were ready, his brother, Andy, the 2010 Tour de France winner, showed up to lead the ride. Like Fränk, he also lives in Mondorf-les-Bains. Can’t lead the ride? Have your little brother, the TdF champion, fill in.

I did not plan on being at the front of our group as we rolled out from Mondorf but found myself there with Andy Schleck. I was at the front for two kilometers until I moved over to give someone else a chance to chat.

Andy asked me how I liked Luxembourg. I loved it I told him and that Frank undersells it. He agreed. It is a beautiful country. Andy asked where I was from and then added he gets to the States a lot, mostly California.

 

A TdF champion serving espresso. Jambo on the left.

We rolled to his bike shop. It is very clean (Frank says “too clean”). There is a cafe in the back and the former TdF champion was making and serving espresso for those who wanted some.

The shop could have been any American bike shop. That is any clean American bike shop. Andy is a Trek dealer, along with other brands. Shimano, Camelbak, and Bontrager products are on the shelves as are Cliff Bars and Power Bars.

But there is one difference. There is a lot of memorabilia from Andy’s career and also from some of his teammates.

I have a lion

 

I have a lion

We had decided as a group to add another 4 km, uphill, to our ride. The Luxembourg American Cemetery was only 2.4 miles away. It was very moving. General George S. Patton is buried here. We presumed to be buried with his troops.

Only 39% of the original soldiers that were buried here remain. The other 61% have been repatriated and are buried on American soil in the U.S. And here the rain came, but only for a short time.

When we left we were in rain but by the time we got back to Andy’s shop (retracing our route) it was dry. Although it looked like we would be in rain for a while, this was the only time we were in rain and it lasted no more than 10 minutes, It was a very moving and very meaningful day.

EDIT/EPILOGUE – This post was originally titled “Team Andy” because when you get to ride with a Tour de France winner (2010), why not? But from a week of riding in Luxembourg and four other countries, our visit to the Luxembourg American Cemetery was among my best memories. After moving hosting for this site and losing some post which had to be restored manually, the name Luxembourg American Cemetery just resonated. Almost forgot that I rode with a Tour de France champion that day. Sorry Andy. 🙂

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Luxembourg the Country

MONDORF, LUXEMBOURG

Another beautiful day in Luxembourg. We looked forward to another brilliant ride. One problem. My illness, and I think it’s a cold, got worse. I had a bad headache last night and was feeling like crap. I thought about sitting this one out. But I hoped a bike ride would make it better.

Glen Leven’s bike. Glen is a mechanic for Trek-Segafredo.

You see, I have a history with this. About 10 years ago to the day (actually June 6, 2009) I was sick. Very sick. I should have been in the hospital. Instead I went for a bike ride. A long, hard, bike ride. It did not make it better. But I knew then to call the doctor.

 

Glen Leven (pro mechanic), Will Swetnam, Frank Schleck

Before rollout, Frank and Andy Scheck‘s dad, Johny, came to meet us. He is the father of the two Brothers Schleck and the unknown brother, Steve. He had also ridden in the Tour de France, from 1965-1973 less 1969. It was a nice gesture and most of our group knew him from last year.

 

Stadtbredimus – Next to the Moselle River

We followed the beautiful Moselle River and onto some streets and roads. We had a little nasty climb ahead, and it started to rain. It wasn’t heavy, and it didn’t leave the roads a mess, it just refreshing, actually.

 

Will, escaping the rain (which would last about 3 minutes)

We would follow the route of the Medio Schleck Gran Fondo with one diversion. Gusty, our guide and friend, wanted us to visit his place, a place that Frank, and Gusty, call Gustyland.

 

Flaxweiler

We stopped and had a 45-minute snack. Martine Schleck had brought some delicious bread and cake. Gusty’s wife, Donny (sorry about the spelling), served some meats and cheeses. There is always laughing when you are around Gusty and today was no exception. He proudly showed off how he hunts pigs (wild boar) with knives.

 

Gusty demonstrating his knife skills

The views kept getting better. We were on the switchback of the “last” climb, well, except Frank lies. He doesn’t do it intentionally, he just doesn’t realize that what is a bump in the road for the former winner on Alpe d’Huez during the Tour de France, is a climb for us mortals.

 

Chillin in Gustyland. One of our moto drivers is standing on the right.

Frank calls out “Last climb! Last climb! Give it your all. Leave nothing here.” One problem was I couldn’t see how far the climb went. Still, I did my best and did leave the small group I was with. It was a small victory.

 

Gustyland

We came to the overlook at Stadtbredimus. Vineyards and a river view. And Gustyland somewhere in the distance.

 

Stadtbredimus

Frank said he had good news and bad news. The good news is we were about 10-15 km from the end (his distance measures were off too – LOL). The “bad news” was he was willing to take some riders and go an extra distance.

 

Stadtbredimus – Overlooking Moselle River. Germany is on the left of the river.

Normally I would be all over that but I wasn’t feeling well. I needed to finish in the pack and call it a day. Frank ended up with perhaps the two strongest riders for the week, both named Scott. As we rolled back towards home, they turned left. I could see a vineyard, a steep farm road, and hear Frank let out the best “Dr. Evil. laugh you will hear.

 

Ellange

I was glad with my decision. We rolled on through some beautiful paths and farm roads back to the hotel. The boys came in an hour later looking pretty beat. And today, the ride did make it better.

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Germany

MONDORF, LUXEMBOURG

Today’s ride started in Luxembourg but in just 10 km (six miles) we came to Schengen and the Moselle River where German, France, and Luxembourg come together. We crossed the river and had a 100 km day in Germany.

Schengen – Moselle River, Germany on other side

We were on farm roads when my eyes starting tearing. Or crying. I didn’t know what was happening. I thought it was hay allergies. But it would be a harbinger of things to come.

We were coming into Mettlach. We were on a downhill on a busy street. I was 7th or 8th wheel when one of our riders passed me. Fair enough. One problem was the road flattened out and he lost contact with the group upfront. So I was now in the second group; missing out on the first group and their fun. Maybe.

 

Our moto – Each ride had two men on motorbikes who kept us safe

There were four of us. We were trending downhill, next to the Moselle River, for 20 km (12 miles). It was glorious. At first only Gusty was doing the pulling or pace-setting and we were riding into the wind. I went up front to help. Our other two riders did not.

 

All together in Saarburg

Will Swetnam, who started the trip without his bike because of Condor Flugdienst Airlines, finally had his bike delivered to the hotel and he was now on his bike instead of Frank’s. But there was one problem. The battery that controls shifting (Shimano Di2) was dangerously low. He started with 10% life remaining and it dropped to 5%. He could no longer use the big ring up front for power and he dropped off the front group. We came rolling by and picked him up. So Gusty, Will, and I took turns at the front while the other two enjoyed the fruits of our labors.

 

Saarburg

(Note: I am not complaining. I enjoyed more fruit this week than I deserved but it is nice when one can contribute so others can rest. I did not want Will to help, but he did.)

We came to Saarburg which is a beautiful city. But riding in a paceline we had no chance to take photos. We stopped at a Biergarten where we were served these huge pieces of cake. We were rewarded after a 45-minute break by starting on a climb. Ugh. Lactic acid. And it was an eight-mile climb at that.

 

Saarburg – Biergarten

Still, we were together for most of the ride but I dropped back to take a photo of three other riders. After the photo, the support van followed them as well as a car with an “L” on its plate. It was from Luxembourg.

 

Saarburg – The Famous Cake

Surely, I thought, with a Schleck van in front of us clearly marked, this driver would be excited to see Frank Schleck. I was wrong. He was impatient and the horn blaring as he went by should be discredited to Luxembourg and not Germany. Maybe he thought we didn’t notice.

 

Frank, Margaret, Scott I – Merzkirchen

But once he got by then I was able to pass the follow van and join back up with the group. When asked where I was I said simply I was caught up in the caravan of cars. Like a pro.

We reentered Luxembourg at Remich, again crossing the Moselle River. We had an easy roll in back to Mondorf. It was a 100 km day on the bike. It felt good except for those watering eyes would lead to a sore throat at dinner. This was not going well.

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