United States - peaceonabike

July 5, 2020September 11, 2020

A Birthday Bonk

ALTOONA, PENNSYLVANIA

The heat had come to west-central Pennsylvania the past couple days at the temperatures were up in the 90s. My planned ride was a 65-mile ride around Altoona. It was already near 80º when I hoped to be rolling at 9:00 a.m. But my stomach told me to seek a pre-ride comfort break so I drove to a local Sheetz to use their restroom.

My actual roll-out time was 9:30 a.m. That meant I would be out in the heat 30 minutes later than I planned. I had two water bottles on the bike and hoped to find a Sheetz, other gas stations, or country stores for additional water. And then just as I started I got a warning my Di2 (electronic shift) was on low battery. I hoped it wouldn’t fail.

The climb to Horseshoe Curve went off as normal. I have a feeling with each passing year I am just a tad bit slower. Once through the tunnel under the Curve, the road turns up. And it sure is beautiful. Only four cars in four miles passed me. I’m surprised more locals don’t use this road but maybe it’s too steep.

The tunnel at Horseshoe Curve. There is a portal on the left to carry water – not traffic.

I thought of my friend, Scott Scudamore, who climbed this with me in 2010 with some friends. Across the top on Gallitzin Road, I passed through Tunnel Hill. I was glad to see the once-closed Country Store re-opened but it was too soon into the ride to stop. The ride down Sugar Run Road was great. Again, I thought of the two times Scott and I rode this in 2010. We had such fun on the descent.

In Duncansville, I passed a Sheetz. I checked my bottles and I was only down 1/2 of one. It didn’t make sense to stop for water. It was still too early to refill because there wasn’t anything to refill. I hoped I’d see another Sheetz.

In Hollidaysburg, I went off course when I saw a canal historic site. Here was the end of the Pennsylvania Canal and the beginning of the Allegheny Portage Railroad. I could spend more time here but needed to ride on.

I had mapped out the course for today’s ride and took off on Loop Road. I crossed Reservoir Road and turned on Locke Mountain Road (going down, not up). But up ahead I came to a Bridge Out sign. When I saw the sign I thought I would go down the road anyhow because most bridges that are out can be walked with a bike.

Not this bridge, It had a locked fence and there was nowhere to go. It looks like this bridge will never be repaired.

They really don’t want you crossing this bridge. Out of battery. Out of water. Out of road.

I saw a sign which stated Hollidaysburg-2, and Altoona-4. I was surprised I was so close to town because I knew I still had 25 miles to ride. And here I made a critical mistake because I needed water. I needed to find water and then readjust everything once I got hydrated. But I also wanted to finish the mapped course and I prioritized that above finding water, which was stupid.

I was suffering greatly when I arrived at Canoe Creek State Park. I went in their admin building and their fountain was there – an oasis that I would kill for. But it was covered up – Sorry, it was closed due to COVID-19 even though the transmission by touching objects had been ruled out by the CDC months ago. They had a restroom and I filled my water bottles there in the sink.

Lemonade and pulled port. And ice water.

After I left the church, I went back to the park and found the concession stand open. I wisely bought some food and drink and took 20 minutes to refuel. I had bonked. My body ran out of fuel. The heat, combined with running out of water, and I had no energy left.

I made some critical mistakes. I hadn’t researched the presence of stores or gas stations on the route. I used to believe that a Sheetz gas/store was everywhere near Altoona. Well, not on this route. I had some great products by Skratch Labs – sitting at home. I grabbed two Kind bars and had them in my pocket but they were a chocolate nut mess. At the intersection of US 22, I should have gone searching for water. Instead, I followed my planned route.

The Di2 low battery had already disabled my big gear so on the rolling roads I could not pedal in the big ring, I spun, if you call it that, on Scotch Valley Road back to Altoona. I would say I was going nowhere fast but more properly, I was going nowhere slowly.

Food at Canoe Creek. Pulled Pork was $2.50.

The heat really took its toll on me. Or heat combined with dehydrating because I ran out of water. And fuel. I did not carry the right fuel with me and I paid for it. Never did find another Sheetz until I was 0.5 mile from the mall where I started. And not having my big gears also hurt. It was a difficult ride but I am thankful to have finished it.

Miles: 65
Temperature: 90°
Weight: 210

March 20, 2020January 21, 2023

Path of the Flood

JOHNSTOWN (FRANKLIN), PENNSYLVANIA

I was looking at the Winter 2020 edition of Rails to Trails magazine and saw a very brief article about the Allegheny Portage Railroad. I had seen the eastern end many times, it is well preserved as a National Park Historic Site but I had not been on the western end.

In 2010, on my first ride from Somerset to Punxsutawney, I had taken a wrong turn and ended up at the trailhead of the Path of the Flood Trail. I turned around when the pavement ended and the trail became crushed limestone.

First quarter-mile; the pavement turns to a gravel road

I wonder what adventure I would have had if I had stayed on the trail that day. Lost, that’s what adventure.

Path of the Flood Trail. The river is visible on the far left beyond the train tracks.

But today I decided I would do a loop by following the trail to South Fork then taking the road back to where I had parked. The forecast was for rain starting around 11:00 a.m. so I went early.

Path of the Flood Trail – the crushed limestone trail turned to mud and single-track

I drove to the trailhead but the park was closed. Not sure if it was the season (a weekday in March) or was in response to the Coronavirus. I went back into Franklin and parked on the street.

It started to rain as soon as I started to pedal. I was in it to win it and the rain would not stop me.

A bridge at the base of the Staple Bend Tunnel

This is an uphill section to the tunnel. As with most photos of hills, this does not capture the grade but it is steeper than it looks.

It was here the trail would have been a true “rail-trail” because in this section it followed the path of the Allegheny Portage Railroad. And the surface felt like it. There was the “climb” up to the tunnel. It was probably about 6-7% grade, and while I could ride it, it took me a few steps before I could get going.

Supposed to see light at the other end. This is the eastern portal of the Staple Bend Tunnel.

There was light at the end of the Staple Bend Tunnel

I decided to try it. I would ride deep into the tunnel and see if I could see. I had a helmet light and a small portable flashlight. I started pedaling and scanned the flashlight back and forth. I made noise, lots of noise. I was fearful there may be an animal or two in the tunnel. At some point, maybe halfway, I could begin to make out some daylight.

Staple Bend Tunnel westbound – much different portal than on the eastern end

On the left are the stones that were the original trackbed for Allegheny Portage Railroad

But I went, down and under the train tracks and across the bridge into Mineral Point. This town was virtually wiped out in the 1889 flood. Here I picked up the Path of the Flood Trail. The trail climbed on the north side of the river. It was never a hard climb but a gradual one.

The Pennsylvania Rail Road needed to get trains back in service and amazingly, had a new structure in place within two weeks! A permanent stone structure built in the early 1890s.

Path of the Flood Trail between Mineral Point and South Fork

I got into South Fork and planned on taking the road back. But first, I wanted to continue east towards the remnants of the dam, which I have seen many times. But then heavy rains came. I turned around and decided to head back to the car.

I had gone a little more than two miles when I pulled over to put on my glasses. I couldn’t find them. I had started the day wearing sunglasses, despite the absence of sun, to keep the rain out of my eyes. But they had fogged up and eventually, I tucked them away. They were in my back jacket pocket and now they weren’t. They had fallen out when I got my phone out at the tunnel and I thought they must have fallen out somewhere between the tunnel and South Fork.

At first, I decided to roll on without them. It was raining, and cold. The glasses served me many miles but they were old. My $50 investment would be gone. I went about half a mile farther and decided I would backtrack and I may find the glasses. I knew no one would be on the trail and if they fell out, I would find them. They had white frames, not black, so should be easy to spot. I made the decision I would trace my route to Mineral Point but not the final section through the tunnel as it was pretty rough riding.

On my way back, as I came to the viaduct, the morning fog had lifted and I went for a photo. Then I took the flashlight out of my jacket and put it in my jersey pocket. There wasn’t room. My glasses were in my jersey. Duh! I must have put them there after they fell out of my jacket. They were with me the entire time.

Path of the Flood Trail in Mineral Point

I rolled on to Mineral Point. As I crossed the bridge a geyser of sealant came gushing out of my front tire. I had a leak. I quickly turned around for a slight downhill section to go as fast as I could to rotate the wheel and get the sealant to seal it. It worked. I think.

I started the climb on the road out of Mineral Point. The tubeless tire seemed to have sealed. This road was steep. It was also about 3 1/2 miles. I got to the top, turned right, and began the coast home. I was worried about the tire but it appeared to be holding. I got back to the car and tried to wipe the bike down. I inflated the tire as it was down to 35 psi (from 80) I put it back to 80 and it appeared to hold. I drove through Johnstown on my way to a bike shop. Then I heard the tire. It was leaking again. A not so good ending to a wet and otherwise, perfect, day.

EDIT/EPILOGUE – The great tubeless experiment 2020 lasted little more than a month. I needed to get a repair fast and City Cycles in Johnstown was closed – forced closed by the governor. I called Paul McIntyre, in Pittsburgh. Paul had been my go-to mechanic in Reston before moving to Pittsburgh. Their bike shop was also forced to close but Paul met me in a dark alley in Pittsburgh and we repaired the tire so I could ride another day.

November 16, 2019September 6, 2020

A Thin Strip of Paint

CLERMONT, FLORIDA

I came to Florida to escape Virginia’s Fall temperatures and ended up with Virginia’s Fall temperatures. It was 55° when I rolled out of the hotel for Waterfront Park. I put on long-fingered gloves. There were three rides today and this was the last one scheduled.

We rolled out at 9:00 a.m. for a 42-mile ride, not including my hotel miles. The organization for the Horrible Hundred offered these “familiarization” rides the day before the event. Our group, about 14 riders, at first looked to be mostly equal in ability. But quickly, one noticeably overweight cyclist dropped back. I love riders riding, of all abilities. So I dropped back to talk with him.

He was from Winchester, Va. which made us practically neighbors. Really, he would have been fine except he kept talking about his domain is the mountains so he can’t go as fast as the flatlanders can on these flats. Saying nothing would have been fine. We’ve all been the slowest or fastest. No excuse is necessary.

The rubber band broke and he lost contact with us although one of the leaders stayed with him. There was a four-mile loop before a turn so we went ahead and when he arrived there he would turn and be in front of us on course.

At Mile 30 we stopped at a gas station. Ever mindful of lactic acid building up while standing around, I announced I would keep going and soft-pedal. The group could catch us. My friend came with me.

I had to soft-pedal and wait a little on some inclines but I was keeping us together. I saw a port-a-john at a boat ramp and pulled over. He did too.

Now with 10 miles to go, we pulled out onto the main road. Except he didn’t come. I pedaled slowly for 1/2 mile and never saw where he went. Then I decided just to ride.

I doubt I was the oldest in the group but was far from being the youngest. I was sure the group would catch me. But then I didn’t want to be caught.

It’s a funny thing, this sport. You tell the group you will ride ahead and they can catch you. And after a while, when they don’t, you become determined not to let them catch you.

I picked up my pace and occasionally looked back the road to see if they were coming. It was almost “time trial” mode for the last 10 miles although I don’t have aero bars on my bike. Some did though.

They never caught me. I was first in this group.

I went to registration and signed in for tomorrow’s ride. I left and backtracked 1/4 mile expecting to see my group. I never did.

I hope they did not suffer any mechanicals or accidents. I was sure the group would catch me but of course they didn’t know they were chasing. And maybe today I rode faster than the group behind.

______

My ride home took me on St. Rte 50. Six lanes of traffic and a designated “bike lane” on either side.

And there you see it. Cyclists’ deaths are up this year. The NTSB says cyclists should wear helmets. And be more visible. But this is infrastructure. A guardrail protects pedestrians from out of control cyclists but cyclists get to ride side by side with traffic that is signed for 50 mph (actual speeds usually higher) and we are protected by a four-inch strip of paint. Bigger vehicles. Smartphones. Crappy infrastructure. We get a strip of paint. That is why cyclists’ deaths are up.

November 15, 2019September 2, 2020

Hello Daytona

DAYTONA BEACH, FLORIDA

On my way to the Horrible Hundred in Clermont, I swung by Ormond Beach to ride to Daytona Beach. It wasn’t far but was just enough to stretch the legs.

I parked in Ormond Beach and crossed the Intracoastal Waterway over to the thin strip of land next to the beach. Temperatures were in the high 50s and it was a gray day.

State vehicle using the bike lane to park on the bridge. Sigh.

But there is always something special about ocean air. It refreshes the lungs.

I checked out the oceanfront then crossed back over the Intracoastal and headed north back to my car.

I wanted a few more miles and crossed the Intracoastal one more time (and back again). Then drove on to Clermont.

November 3, 2019November 6, 2020

Home Roads RVA

ASHLAND, VIRGINIA

Professional cyclist, Ben King, and his wife, Jenna, hosted a ride to benefit Qubecca, the bike project of Dimension Data. At a little more than one hour door to door to Ashland, I was all set to arrive one hour early. Today I planned to arrive one hour early and not be rushed.

The ride was scheduled for 10:00 a.m. I left my house at 8:15 a.m. My rear (car) tire was very low and I went looking for a service station to add air. The first one I came to did not have an air pump. The second one did. It was a slow pump and cost $1.50. Now it was 8:25 a.m.

I was on U.S Rte 1 and saw a McDonalds. I thought I’d get a Diet Coke in the drive-thru. Ultimately, that took 17 minutes and it was Diet Dr. Pepper. I dumped it out. It was 8:42 a.m.

I still had one hour to go on I-95. I stopped at the rest area near Ladysmith to change into my riding bib shorts. My ETA moved to 9:42 a.m. I arrived at 9:45 a.m. but there was no close-in parking. A policeman directed my 1/4 mile up the road.

I got the bike down from the roof, changed my shirt to a jersey, grabbed a vest, and hustled to registration. It was 9:55 a.m. I was handed a bib to pin on and the ride took off. It was 9:57 a.m. I’ve never been to a ride that left early. I put the bib in my vest pocket.

There were two routes – a full metric (62 miles) and a shorter 48-mile route. My granddaughters came to visit this weekend so I thought I would take the shorter route. I rolled out at the start, dead last. Kept an easy pace and saw the split up ahead with the cool kids picking up the pace.

At the split of routes I went short. I passed a few people and arrived second at the rest stop. A number of riders I passed all showed up as I made sure to thank each of the volunteers. So about six of us left together, I was on the front. Eventually, a couple passed me but I stayed 50-150 yards behind them for the next 20 miles.

And then I passed them, catching and passing the only two riders ahead of me. I was having a good day.

A car passed me followed by a motorbike who said, “keep right.” I was right and I thought it was a warning not to be all over the road. Instead, he should have said, “stay right, we’re passing.” But he probably didn’t have time. About 10 seconds later a small peloton of about 20 riders, led by Ben and Jeremiah Bishop, came flying by. Ben said, “keep up the good work.” They had caught me. They rode 15 (or more miles) farther and they passed me.

Oh well. I was only 2-3 minutes behind them arriving at the end. I saw Ben and Jeremiah briefly but went inside to pick up my ride swag which I did not have time to take to my car beforehand. When I came out they were gone. Maybe they just put their bikes away.

I had granddaughters at home. I was happy with my ride. I left.

The ride was a fun ride. It especially looked like it had a nice meal plus there were items to be auctioned for charity. I missed the social part as I rushed home. I don’t regret missing out but I hope Ben does this ride next year and I can bring some friends.

October 29, 2019September 8, 2020

California Dreamin

EL SEGUNDO, CALIFORNIA

Having just returned from California from the Phil Gaimon Cookie Gran Fondo weekend, I need to revisit my planning – for next time, you know.

What went right – what went wrong.

All in all, it was a great trip.

In 2019 I am celebrating my 10-year Cancversary and will ride 10 miles (at least) every day. That affected the flights that I could take. If I fly out early it has to be real early so I have time to ride when I arrive. Or I can ride in the morning and travel late – but that one isn’t for me.

I left home by 4:30 a.m. for Washington-Dulles. I parked in the long-term Economy lot and was still at my gate by 5:43 a.m. – two hours before scheduled take-off.

In Terminal B is a Five Guys that served breakfast sandwiches. I had the bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich. And it was good.

The flight arrived LAX on-time. My only checked bag was my bike and despite the luggage arriving at Terminal 6, mine was an Oversized bag and arrived in Terminal 4 at the Oversize Baggage.

I took the hotel shuttle to the Fairfield Inn and Suites – El Segundo. Arrived by noon. No room was ready but I built my bike in the pool area (only a few funny looks). I jumped on my bike and visited – In-N-Out Burger which was right next door. Then I rode west – towards the ocean.

I had texted Robert Hess and he offered to pick me up at the hotel for a ride. I told him I already found the bike path and could ride to meet him. That was better. We met close to Manhattan Beach then rode north towards (but not to) Venice Beach. We found a straight section used for KOMs and both went moderately fast.

RIGHT: By taking the hotel shuttle from the airport I avoided one day of car rental charges.

RIGHT: By renting in El Segundo, I avoided the LAX fees on rental cars. In addition, a much higher rate.

I drove to Thousand Oaks where I stayed at the TownePlace Suites by Marriott. I was going to stay at the official hotel of the Fondo, the Hyatt, but the rooms were $60/night more.

TownePlace Suites by Marriott, Thousand Oaks. The pool wasn’t so nice.

I was 10 miles from the venue on Saturday and decided to ride there instead of drive. That also made my decision to choose the 40-mile ride over the 50-mile ride.

One problem was I was riding directly into a low sun on Thousand Oaks Blvd. Even with two rear lights, I was worried about the traffic seeing me.

The hotel was only about 15 miles from Sunday’s venue so I could not complain. Plus it was very close to an In-N-Out Burger and a Chili’s.

I was initially going to ride in Santa Barbara on Monday but decided to ride again in Manhattan Beach. I did not explore the southern end of the trail before and I could save a day’s rental charge.

RIGHT: By getting the car back before 11 a.m. I would have three days’ rental and not four.

One problem was there were wildfires including one I went by one Hwy 101. Waze found a better way but that meant hundreds of drivers all used the same side streets. I got in a little late but within tolerance.

Once packed, their driver took me back over to the Fairfield Suites where I boarded the Fairfield airport shuttle, the one that dropped me there four days earlier. I don’t know if this was cool or not but when I checked out on Friday I asked Scott Trexler at the hotel and he said it would be no problem. Of course, he wasn’t working when I returned.

I rode south to Redondo Beach then one last time to In-N-Out Burger. I went back to the car rental location where I had left my luggage. I think they were more bemused than annoyed that I tore down the bike in their office and packed it in the case.

At the airport, I found a restaurant and watched the Steelers-Dolphins on Monday Night Football (Steelers won 27-14). About one hour later I boarded the redeye flight to Dulles.

Arriving Dulles, I had to figure out where my bike would arrive. It came in on the Oversize Baggage belt. It has come down the regular belt before (ugh) so I have to figure out by airport where it will arrive.

I went back to my car in the Economy lot then to Chick-Fil-A, Ashburn, for breakfast before getting the Trek Pilot out for a ride on the W&OD. I had packed the Domane for California but also brought the Pilot and left it in the car. It was on its side covered by a blanket in the car. Then when arriving back, rather than trying to rebuild my Domane, I could just jump on the Pilot and ride.

After riding and dropping the Domane at the bike shop (broken front derailleur), I found myself fighting drowsiness on the 30-mile trip home. That redeye took it out of me but was necessary if I was to ride today. The other option on American was 10:30 a.m. arriving at 6:30 p.m. It would be hard to ride in the morning, tear down the bike, and get to the airport on time. And it arrived too late for an evening ride.

I am comfortable with almost all the decisions I made for this trip. I like the hotel shuttle and the first night near the airport. It worked out renting off-site. And getting back to the hotel. Keep this in mind if I do this one again.

October 15, 2019August 31, 2020

Cap to Cap

RICHMOND, VIRGINIA

The goal: Park in Richmond, take a train to Williamsburg and ride back on the Virginia Capital Trail.

I was thinking Union Station in D.C. with its six-level parking garage. In Richmond, I found nothing other than a mostly vacant lot near the train station which needed a parking app. I drove a few blocks away and found on-street parking. After all, I was riding a bike today so it really didn’t matter how far away I parked.

The area where I parked seemed a little sketchy. Next time: I will park at the trailhead at the bottom of Pear St. then bike to the station.

Like so many U.S. train stations, the Richmond Main Station is a treasure. What a beautiful building. It was, however, lacking in signage. I had no idea which track my train was arriving on or how late it would be. It was scheduled at 10:03 a.m. but had not arrived by then.

I had made a bike reservation so someone should have known that I was boarding with a bike. The baggage car was at the front of the train. There was one boarding area, in the middle, where the conductor checked our tickets.

I had to enter the middle of the train. When I asked the conductor where I should put my bike he said “anywhere.” I was expecting two hooks per car but found none. One we got rolling he walked it through two cars to the baggage car and hung it on a hook.

The train ride could have been enjoyable The windows were filthy dirty and it seemed the engineer loved blowing that train whistle. Seems to me that there should be better ways in 2019 to warn people of an oncoming train rather than a whistle. I’m not sure I ever heard a train in Switzerland use one.

With the glare of the sun hitting those windows, it was hard to see any scenery. But mostly it was a forested area from Richmond to Williamsburg.

The seats were much better than the last time I rode a train. Only the constant whistle kept it from being truly enjoyable.

At the Williamsburg station, I had to exit from the middle of the train then walk back up to the front to pick up my bike. Seems the two cyclists would have been better served to exit with their bikes.

I had no clue where I was but then – I was in Colonial Williamsburg. I rode the traffic-free streets for a few minutes then found Rte. 5 towards Jamestown.

Arriving at Jamestown Settlement, I met Terry Moran. We would ride together the first 13 miles of the Virginia Capital Trail before he would turn around and go back to his Williamsburg home.

The trail begins here and is a 51-mile bike trail from Richmond to Jamestown. It is 98% trail with two small portions at Charles City diverted to the street as well as one section of about 1/4 mile near Richmond.

If you love wooden boardwalks this is the trail for you. Every mile it seems you cross one of the bridges. All are in great shape now but wonder if they will hold up in 10-15 years. But enjoy them now. They are great!

The eastern section is pancake flat. It is situated in the Middle Peninsula section. It is wooded with its share of wooden bridges as it follows Rte 5.

At MP 6 (or 7) the trail crosses the Chickahominy River. There is a separate bike lane on either side or the cool kids can ride on the shoulder on the highway.

Once over the bridge, the trail continues with Charles City being the next landmark. Charles City Courthouse is at MP 21. There are little to no amenities on the trail so grab them when you see them.

Terry had turned around at MP 13. He suggested to me that I stop at the Citgo service station at Charles City – for their fried chicken. I came to Haupt’s Country Store and at first, kept going. But then I smelled the chicken and went inside. Chicken by the piece was $2.65 for a breast and roll. It was good but there was no seating area, not even a bench outside.

At Charles City, the trail disappeared into the street for a couple hundred yards. I passed Cut’s Courthouse Grille and saw some bicycles parked outside. That is your restaurant option if you want sit-down. At the Citgo Station, I stood next to a trash can.

After Charles City, I entered the plantation area. Shirley. Berkeley. Sherwood Forest.

Once in Henrico County, the trail went from flat to rolling. The rustle of dried leaves cracked beneath my tires. It was still wooded in many sections and the Fall leaves were covering the trail.

Fueled by my piece of chicken, I averaged 17 mph from Charles City to Richmond. My time at either end, Williamsburg and Richmond, slowed my average speed as I was site-seeing in Williamsburg and climbing Libby Hill in Richmond.

As I got closer to Richmond the trail became familiar to me. I stopped here in April and had ridden part of this before.

The trail goes under I-295 and is the only place there is considerable road noise.

As I got close to Richmond, I remembered some of this trail from having ridden it four years ago when I volunteered at the UCI World Championships. But some of it was also new to me.

Rather than finish the last quarter-mile of the trail, I turned off it to go up Libby Hill and find where I was parked. At Libby Hill, there was a chain across the entrance. After 10-15 seconds of thought, I decided that was for automobiles. There was an opening for a bike and I rode up the famous Libby Hill – as I did three times last month.

At the top I needed to find my way to my car. I was on Richmond Hill and the street where I parked, Grace Street, did not continue because of a cliff.

sN. 23rd St is a cobbled street that looks to be 12% grade going down. I decided not to ride down it, afraid of my traction while bouncing on the cobbles. The sidewalk presented a good option and I carefully went down the sidewalk. However, at the bottom, it becomes steps.

It was a 60-mile day. It was a beautiful day. I would recommend this again although I would think I would like to add the Jamestown Ferry as an option and ride on the south side of the James to Rte 156.

October 5, 2019September 11, 2020

Dear Andrew and Staci

SALISBURY, MARYLAND

I arrived at 2:30 yesterday as walk-in registration for the Sea Gull Century began at 3:00 p.m. I registered and picked up my rider packet. There was a $15 difference between early registration and walk-in. The $15 is essentially insurance should the event be canceled (as it was in 2015). But I think next year I will just register online and avoid check-in (although you still have to appear to go pick up your T-shirt).

After registration I went to Fenwick Island, Delaware for Fishers Popcorn, a required stop for this trip or I would not be welcomed home. With temperatures in low 70s, it was too nice not to ride. I saw, felt, the wind and knew it was coming from the north. I headed north and it was tough riding. I only rode five miles to Bethany Beach before turning around to enjoy the great tailwind back to Fishers.

The original course map. It differed from what they actually used.

When I arrived at Division Street, no one was there. No one. I knew I was early but with 5,000 riders on course surely I could not be the first. I wasn’t. I eventually (4 1/2 miles) found the course. They had come down Old Pokomoke Road. I joined the ride there.

Two and three years ago I rode with riders from the Blair Cycling Club (Pa.). Last year I met a woman, Sandra, and two of her friends, and we rode together for 60 miles. Today I met nobody until eight miles to go. Here the Assateague Century and Princess Ann Metric routes come back together.

Approaching Verrazano Bridge, Assateague Island

I can find my own porta-a-johns; this one at Snow Hill

Arriving back at the college is always neat. The route goes under US13 through a pedestrian underpass. Coming out the other side you are at the finish with people congratulating you including the Salisbury University cheerleaders. The event is well supported by the University. The track and field team were the volunteers at Rest 2 (and maybe Rest 4). Apple pie and vanilla ice cream were offered at the end (or cherry pie and chocolate ice cream).

Staci asked me if I rode this before and then stated I probably do these all the time. So Staci, here is the answer.

Dear Andrew and Staci,

I used to do century rides all the time. Or I feel like I used to. But I had knee replacement surgery 18 months ago. If that didn’t slow me, I had a memory-loss accident a couple of months later. The only century ride I completed in 2018 was this one. The Alpine Loop Gran Fondo last September I cut short and the Horrible Hundred last November in Florida I also cut short. The latter was because I was with friends who weren’t riding the full 100. I even competed in the World Hillclimb Championships in Santa Barbara and earned the title as Worst Cyclist in the World.

This year we did a planned 95-mile four-country ride in Luxembourg but I was sick so no need to add five miles to call it 100 although some in my group did. In Indiana in August, the Spokes of Hope Century Ride was cut short (65 miles) by thunderstorms. At the Alpine Loop Gran Fondo in Harrisonburg, Va. six days ago, I stopped at 78 miles.

I hope the two of you keep riding. Cycling is healthy, especially when you avoid crashing. For the minutes or hours you are on the bike you are in a different world. Maybe next year you will want to ride the full Century route. If you do, let me know, and I’ll try to ride it with you. But above all, keep riding, and I wish for you Peace on a Bike. – Barry

September 22, 2019November 6, 2020

Climb to Conquer Cancer

RICHMOND, VIRGINIA

A new ride to me. A cancer ride sponsored by Amy’s Army of Cancer Warriors benefitting the VCU- Massey Cancer Center.

Logistically, I decided I would park at Stone Brewery, a huge lot about a mile from Libby Hill Park. There were only a handful of cars there and the parking space I was looking at (near a tree) had lots of broken auto glass – the sign of a break-in earlier. Ugh.

I had to check-in and pick up my timing chip before the ride. I rode up Williamsburg Avenue and turned on Libby Hill. Our route would take us up this climb twice on our ride. I decided to make it three. There was as much grass as there were cobbles. It was actually an easy climb. Not steep. Not long. And the stones weren’t that annoying.

Throwing some numbers at it – the best I can tell the climb is about 220 meters with an average or steep grade of 9%. While we did two climbs, the pro men in 2015 for the UCI World Championships did 16 climbs up the hill.

Riding in Memory of
Jacob Grecco
Alex Shepherd
Janice Lowmaster
Kay Walborn

I positioned myself at the back of the group for rollout. When we were ready to go they announced that I was at the front. Oh well. I turned my bike around and rolled up behind the police cruiser who would escort us for a four-mile urban loop before bringing us back to Libby Hill where we would climb the hill, for the “first’ time. This one was timed.

At the start line. Little did I know we would turn around to start and I would be in the front, not back.

Waiting for an ambulance for our riders who went down

Volunteers at Rest Stop 1 – They make the event happen

Sharon MacLean Maggie Hopkins Barton, Leary Jessica Conley, Dixie Newsome, Erin Silliman Wittwer, Marion Palme, Ashley Gibbs.. Source: Maggie Hopkins Barton Facebook Post shared by Amy’s Army of Cancer Warriors (Sept. 23, 2019)

We skipped Rest 2 and rode 30 miles to Rest 3. We averaged 18.2 mph with most, but not all, taking pulls. I did. Some of the non-Sweet Spot riders never came to the front. The last 10 miles we averaged another 18 mph. I backed off before the climb just so it wasn’t so crowded. Once I hit the climb my legs knew it. The first two times were easy. The last one was not – it’s what having 60 miles in your legs will do.

Alongside the James River returning to Richmond

Riding “partners” from Sweet Spot Cycling

September 22, 2019September 1, 2021

Alpine Loop Grand Fondo

HARRISONBURG, VIRGINIA

The weekend began yesterday with an invitation-only ride out of Harrisonburg with Jeremiah Bishop and The Vegan Cyclist. Jeremiah took us off-road where he may have been the only one comfortable going down dirt roads. But no one fell and we made it back to registration at Craft Brothers Brewing in one piece.

In summarizing today, one only needs to look at last year’s post. I sucked on the first mountain climb. I sucked more on Reddish Knob. Cramped. I decided it was best not to do the 20-mile loop making a century ride.

Three prostate cancer survivors: Mike, Robert, Barry

Of my eight times doing this event, this started out the most perfect. The temperature was just right (mid 60s). I was at the start line plenty early to say hello to friends.

Rollout thru Harrisonburg
Barry is front and center in yellow
Source: Alpine Loop Gran Fondo Facebook Page (Erin Bishop)

One thing I did not do was to pick up a timing chip to be timed on the climbs. I finished dead last in the WORLD last year at the World Hillclimbs Championship so who am I fooling thinking I would win anything? Plus, without a chip, I may be free to stop and take pictures.

Passing the Amish. She asked us if we were all local.

At the start line, we were called out or recognized. As a prostate cancer survivor, I am always recognized. I’m sort of like a mascot. A big cancer-surviving mascot.

At 8:00 a.m. we rolled out. I was in the front row and stayed there for the first couple of miles. When we turned off the road I dropped back four or five places. But we were often doing 20-25 mph in tight quarters. Except for Jeremiah Bishop, these are not professionals. I am not a professional. I am just uncomfortable riding that close to that many strangers. I pulled off at a Mennonite Church and let 100-150 riders go by before jumping back in.

A century ride should be ridden as easy; medium; hard. That is, ride the first third easy. And I wasn’t. Maybe they were riding easy but it was more effort than I wanted to use at that point. It was foolish for me to ride hard to stay with the group. I backed off.

Top of the Shenandoah – Camera lens blurred with sweat

I was seemingly passed by everyone on the road. Many times I thought I was dead last but often 4-5 minutes later someone else would pass me. Sometimes groups of 3-4 riders went flying by. Where were they hiding?

We got to the first mountain climb, Shenandoah Mountain on U.S. Rte. 33. I was passed by 22 riders and passed no one. I was having a bad day. I briefly talked to 16-year-old Ben, who I helped last year. He had passed me but then I caught him and asked him if he was going for another jersey. He told me he was but didn’t think he had a chance. I hope he made it. We both stopped briefly at the summit but I had a good fast descent and didn’t see him after that.

At Reddish Knob Road I started the climb. It is tough. It begins with a one-mile climb followed by a one-mile descent. Then the fun begins. It’s a five-mile climb with 1,635′ of gain. That averages to 6.2% but that is skewed by the last half mile or so which flattens out. By contrast, the seven-mile climb at Horseshoe Curve (Altoona, Pa.) averages about 4%. That one does have a very tough section of 20% though. But Reddish Knob is harder.

I was passed by five riders going up Reddish. But three of those I eventually passed back as they were pushing their bikes. It is tough. One guy was paperboying all over the road and still passed me. Until he walked.

It took everything I had not to stop. Not to walk. I dug deep then went deeper. My right knee was hurting. I made the decision to do the 80-mile route and forgo the century. I also tried to make plans for dinner with the granddaughters in Martinsburg and I couldn’t do both.

The last 20 miles went fine. The last 40 may not have. Occasionally I was passed by a rider or two. I was always amazed at the pop they still had in their pedals while I struggled.

And like last year, Katie Yates came over from JMU to meet me. Unlike last year, a storm moved in which would have caught me on course had I not ended early.

Barry at finish (holding an ice-cold towel)

This ride gets harder every year. I have to either get younger or lose weight. I am carrying too much weight up these mountains (although the downhill portion is fun).