I was hoping to ride on Friday with my friend, Laura Snyder, but that did not quite work out. When that opportunity passed she suggested Sunday morning could work. I took her up on it.
Laura on the Creekside Trail
Laura and her husband, Chris, met me at the Creekside Trail in Beavercreek for a 7:00 a.m. rollout. A rail trail, it is wide with good pavement and few riders (at least compared to the W&OD in Virginia).
Xenia, Ohio
We headed east on the trail towards Xenia which was only seven miles away. We sort of lost “the scent” of the trail at the train station. Or maybe we didn’t. I was thinking we would connect with the Little Miami Scenic Trail which runs north to Springfield. And I see now we could have.
Chris and Barry (Credit: Laura)
Chris and Laura were time-pressed. Although normally it would have been for church, Chris was leaving town for a week on business so we had to turn around and get back to the start.
Barry and Laura
After saying goodbye, I rode more, this time to the west. Entering Montgomery County the trail got narrower and it wasn’t as good as it was in Greene Co. The trail may have also been older but there was a marked difference.Xenia, Ohio
I followed the trail to Eastwood Metropark in Dayton. I think I picked up the Mad River Trail. I ended up at Wright Patterson Air Force Base Museum. This brought back some pleasant memories. We lived near here in the mid-60s. Money was very tight and family activities meant to find things that were free.
Eastwood Metropark
The Air Force Museum was free. The first time we went we followed the signs and were directed to Gate 35c. My dad saw that and thought he needed 35 cents. And I’m not sure he had it. But when he approached the sentry he waved us on, and Dad was probably not the first person who thought that.Air Force Museum
I smiled as I thought of that memory then turned around. I needed to get back on the road to Virginia.
Barry, Chris, and Laura selfie (Credit: Laura)As I was going through a parking lot in the Eastwood Metropark, a car backed out of a space never seeing me. A man walking a dog yelled to the driver, “there’s a bike behind you.” I swerved and did a U-turn. The driver sped off, and I’m still not sure he ever saw me. As I left the walker said, “that was close, wasn’t it?” I told him as far as drivers go, it really wasn’t that bad.Beavercreek Station
Maybe it was the company I had for the first half. Or perhaps the enjoyment of exploration. Or maybe the gorgeous weather. But it was very enjoyable and I hope to get back to the Dayton area to ride again.
Friday was check-in. I biked the four miles between my hotel and the check-in site and there was informed that Saturday’s route would be changed. We were told that because of the heat that the ride would conclude at the lunch stop at Camp Kanesatake. From there the riders and their bikes would be transported to Penn State.
Ugh.
Start at Hollidaysburg High School
I ride in heat. I live in Virginia. I rode in Texas. Bring it on! I was very disappointed. This route change would also impact which bike I rode. I had my Trek Pilot (2006) with me and decided that would be a better choice than my Domane (2014) if it was going in a truck.
Rest Stop One
On Saturday I arrived at Hollidaysburg Senior High School and went looking for the write-on bibs. This is very important to me to be able to write and wear “I Ride For my Daughter.” For the second time in three years, there were none to be had. This was more disappointing than the route change.
Martinsburg, Pa.
We rolled out at 7:00 a.m. We largely stayed in a group. I missed my friends from Rooster Racing where we were comfortable riding in twos closely following the wheel in front of us. This group was very sketchy. There were riders in the “left lane” basically hugging the double yellow line. One had to pass into oncoming traffic or pass on the right. But the kicker was a woman (Bib 111) who while descending in a group sat on her top tube, in the Super Tuck position. This is very unsafe and I immediately backed way off then passed her never to see her again.
Lock (without an E) Mountain Road
I fell in with three brothers from Pittsburgh. We stayed together until the Ritchey’s Dairy rest stop (MP 17) and that was it working with other riders for the weekend. It was solo the next 133 miles. (They were good riders. I just didn’t impose myself waiting to ride with them after the first rest stop.)
Williamsburg, Pa.
In Martinsburg, I turned back to take a photo of a mural on a building. I figured if we were stopping short I would take my time. Heck, I might even be last to the lunch stop. Once on the road, I saw Lock Mountain Road. I turned and decided to ride up the road. But it went nowhere. Well, it went somewhere but not where I expected. I checked Maps on my phone and was very confused. And when confused just turn around. Only later did I figure out I wanted Locke Mountain Road. That damn E. Still I got some bonus miles.
Lunch stop with finishing arch in the background
Maybe the cool kids (or fast ones) were all in front of me. I was not passed from Williamsburg to the lunch stop. At lunch, I saw Bryan Caporuscio from Spokes N Skis. I asked him what the real deal was as I had seen some riders continue on. He said one could ride unsupported which I decided to do. A volunteer recorded my number and I set off.
Buses at Camp Kanesatake
I had been talking to two men and a woman. They took off about a minute before me but as I rode I could see them up the road. I figured I’d pass them but saw they dropped the woman. I think she was the wife of one. Ouch. I passed her too. After a few miles, I had the thought that we were riding unsupported and no one should ride alone. Later I did learn there was a skeleton crew of support still on the road.. I turned back until I caught her and told her we were unsupported and no one should ride alone. Except at that moment, the rear derailleur cable broke. I was stuck in my biggest gear.
Up the road from Camp Kanesatake
I started to pedal away from her and saw her two friends were waiting for her. I would never see them again. Riding became alternating standing and sitting. I felt I was stronger and faster because I had to use a bigger gear, that is, I didn’t have any bailout low gears. It would also tire me out.
The Famous Cookie Stop
The famous Cookie Stop was still in place although we were told it wouldn’t be. One HAM radio operator offered to call a SAG but I said I would soldier on. The hills ahead were rolling but I would have been out of luck on the hills of U.S. Rte. 22. I pushed the gear as hard as I could but had to walk right out of the rest stop and on Airport Road. I was sure I would be swept up (passed) by other riders but never was. I am thinking my speed was up while I was pedaling. Or maybe everyone else was suffering.
The warning was late in the day, 3:15 p.m. When I finished it was 84°.
Arriving Penn State I went right to the Spokes N Skis repair tent. Troy told me he had passed me and thought “that guy doesn’t know how to ride a bike – he is in much too big of gear.” Then he said, “Now it makes sense.” A $4 cable repair and I was fixed and ready for Sunday.
Beaver Stadium, PSU
Dinner featured two young mothers with MS. Jennifer (sorry I didn’t get your last name) spoke about what it was to be living with MS. Diane Kramer, a nurse from State College, spoke about how Bike MS makes a difference. She gets treatment at the MS Center at Johns Hopkins and she stated that 15 years earlier her doctor’s medical education was paid for by the National MS Society. We make a difference.
Diane Kramer (Source: Diane Kramer’s Facebook)
Oh boy. At 3:45 a.m. an alarm went off in the building. We were all required to go outside until it was cleared, about 30 minutes later. It was a short night. After breakfast, I got my bike from the storage room. At 6:55 I wondered why there were only 5-10 riders in line waiting for the start. Then I saw volunteers telling riders to go anytime.
With a second day of heat and humidity, starting the ride early made perfect sense. Unfortunately, if that was communicated it did not get to me. I would have rolled out at 4:15 a.m., right after the fire alarm.
Start in State College – Where is Everybody?
The organization said there would be buses at Camp Kanesatake as well as lunch. The problem was this was less than 30 miles into the ride and arriving before 9:00 a.m., I imagine they did not find many people eating lunch. I did have some ice cream, served by the Huntington County Dairy Princess(es).
Diary Princess(es)
It was a day to ride (and not be on a bus). It got hotter as the day progressed but the stops were staged appropriately. My only response to the heat would have been to put a water-only stop in between each rest stop. That is why I am not an event director.
I arrived yesterday in Killeen, Texas. I assembled my bike and went for a 17-mile ride – until it was dark. Everything was working fine. Electronics (toys) were fully charged and I got a good night’s sleep. Not waiting for the hotel’s breakfast at 7:00 a.m., I grabbed a quick breakfast and drove to Lampasas. I arrived one hour before the start which allowed me to check-in and RELAX.
Lampasas
Lampasas is a pretty Texas town. Lots of old buildings and murals. I decided to ride around the town looking at the old buildings. It was the most prepared I have ever been before an event.
Bib 410
It dawned on me I had no one to ride with. No problem. I do 50-mile solo rides all the time. Plus this one had rest stops. I would do just fine.
Four women from the Rice University Cycling Team – Shannon, Gisele, Alix, Meike
At the start line, the 2019 Texas 4000 team rolled out followed by T4K alumni. Then VIP riders followed by the 50-milers then the 25-milers. I was taking photos of the roll-out, about 200 yards on-course, so I jumped in where I thought the 50-mile riders were because it was not clearly delineated as the riders rolled by.
Texas4000 2019 Riders first on course
It was a slow roll-out and I thought that I was in with the 25 milers. I eventually started passing people until I hit my pace. And then I found myself behind three women riders from Rice University. I had to jump in with them at least for a little bit. I am friends with their friend, Mary Natoli, and when I introduced myself, these riders remembered me from last year.
Rollout – Riders in the first mile
Last year was basically awful. I was two weeks removed from a severe concussion. I was out of shape and it was very hot, at least 10 degrees hotter than today, which was hot. I cramped severely the last 10 miles. I had also been on the front with the Rice U. team for a good part of the ride and that probably contributed to my cramping. Today I would take it easy.
Gisele, Shannon
I rode with three of the Rice team to the first rest stop. The fourth, Alix, had stopped for a saddle adjustment and her teammates were content to wait for her at the rest stop and regroup there.
Meike
Lactic acid is not my friend. Young people can take a long time at rest stops. I cannot. If I wait too long the lactic acid will build up and my legs will be shot for the next five minutes or so. Before they were ready to roll out I decided that I would go ahead and soft-pedal – let them catch me. They didn’t.
Fresh Oil – the sign was worse than the roadway
I came to a section with fresh oil. I had decided earlier that if I saw fresh oil I would turn around rather than subject my bike to those conditions. But I rode carefully and got the sense that the sign was up but construction had yet to begin. I got through the section at Mile 15. I turned back about a quarter-mile to see if I would intersect the Rice team. I did not.
And a little bit of gravel
But I noticed that I noticed my rear derailleur had stopped working. At all. I was stuck in one gear. I was riding a single speed. I kept going to the next stop. When the Rice riders arrived I told them that I was not being anti-social for riding ahead without them – I was riding a single speed and didn’t know if I could hang with them.
Four Women from Rice – Shannon, Gisele, Alix, Meike
We rolled out from the rest stop and were joined by a 2009 T4K alum – who happens to be married to one of the women I was riding with. We sat in behind two of the women, one was his wife, for a while until they insisted we pull. So we did and I was at the same point I was last year – working too hard. And on a single-speed.
Rest Stop #2
We got to the rest stop with 12 miles to go. We slow-rolled out of there and hit the rollers. I was fine. Feeling good actually. We stopped at five miles to go for Gatorade and a dog, a Boston Terrier named Copper.
A Boston Terrier named Copper
Rolling out, Alix Macklin was left behind. I saw her back, way back, and decided to drop back and ride with her. I had hoped we could close the gap to the group but we simply maintained the gap. So Alix and I rode together the last five miles.
Other than the mechanical, it was a truly enjoyable day. We ended at the Atlas lunch and I never saw them again. But I had the best teammates for a ride where I didn’t think I knew anyone.
At lunch, I found two T4K riders for this year including Adelyn Yau from the Rockies team. I was looking for Keila Garcia, my pen pal for this year’s ride. I never introduced myself to Adelyn until after she made contact with Keila. When I told her my name was Barry she said “You are her pen pal” (and then said it’s a good thing I didn’t tell her earlier). We hooked up. Keila was surprised to see me and I was glad to meet her. She confessed she is not a cyclist but is on the trip for the mission. She has her head on straight. Godspeed Keila. You will make a difference.
EDIT/EPILOGUE
I left the Atlas ride and headed to my hotel in North Austin. I did a search for bike shops and found Bicycle Sport Shop on Palmer Lane. Late in the day, they told me to bring my bike in. Sam Legge ran some diagnostics and found the wire from the shifter to the junction box had been inadvertently tightened with the bar stem – so it worked for a while in Texas, about 35 miles, then was broken completely.
Sam Legge
Sam did not have the right size wire and called his other stores. We were looking at having it delivered on Sunday, actually, I volunteered to pick it up from one store and deliver it. But he put a longer one on there and got the bike working. He worked past closing and got my bike back on the road. I highly recommend this place.
Having ridden on St. Simons Island, I wanted to try a different island and chose Jekyll. I have never been here before and knew next to nothing about it. My first decision would normally be how far but a longer than planned trip from North Carolina helped me make my decision.
There is a causeway that leads to the island. I stopped at the welcome center on I-95 in Georgia and asked if one could bike on the causeway to the island. No one knew. There is a welcome center halfway there on the causeway and I had hoped to park there but parking is limited to one hour. So I drove all the way to the island.
As for the causeway, it was a non-starter. The turn off to the causeway offers no parking anywhere close. The causeway itself is two lanes, some of it 55 mph, much of it 45 mph. No shoulders. But would I ride it? The answer is yes. It is straight and flat with visible site lines. It’s not for the faint of heart but on a road bike, I would ride it.
But I drove to the island with a plan of where I would ride. Entering the island I turned right and looked for the first place to park. It was a water-slide park, not yet opened for summer.
I never created a map for my GPS and went by memory. I would ride around the island counter-clockwise. I stayed mostly on the road even though there were a number of bike paths. Some were best for the fat tire variety and not for this road bike.
I hadn’t checked the air pressure in my tires before I left. Perhaps because there was more sand on the streets, I thought it would be best to check the pressure. I found the one bike shop on the island.
Electric trike
The owner (or operator) had beach cruisers. I asked about an air pump and he looked at my tire with its Presta Valve. He said, “Sorry, I don’t have air for that type of tire.”
Had to turn around on this one
I found a trail at the north end of the island but was on it only for a couple of hundred feet when I saw it need fat tires. I turned around.
It was an enjoyable ride. Traffic was mostly slow and respectful. Comparing the two, I would go back to St. Simon’s Island before Jekyll Island but either one is a nice diversion from a long car ride.
Another edition of the Sea Gull Century. It was rainy on the drive in from Ocean City. I found parking at Asbury United Methodist Church although I thought I was still on campus at the time. It was only a problem after the ride when I saw a church and thought that looked like where I parked except I didn’t park at a church. Except I did.
Some riders waiting at the start line
I rolled out to get to the start line which was 3/4 of a mile away. The first group to start was supposed to be pace lines and “other fast riders” although there seemed to be a lot of people at the start waiting for a signal. Probably waiting for friends.
I moved on to the porta-johns, thanks to last night’s pasta loading. There was a loop recording playing stating this was a SHOW AND GO START so when I was done, I went.
The official start line
I decided not to join any pacelines today and just ride solo. I worked my way past some slow riders and within a couple of miles I was “sitting in” with three other guys. We weren’t tearing up the course; just riding sensibly. The route was safe but crowded. A squirrel could have jumped rider to rider for 10 miles and never touched the ground. It would have also been very tired.
One of the few intersections we did not get waved through by police (who were Great!)
We were passed by a couple of HUGE pacelines. They were flying, probably 30 mph, and must have had close to one hundred riders in each. It was too sketchy for me. I tried it last year for a mile and thought I didn’t know these riders, they’re not professional bike handlers, and one touch of wheels would be disaster. In addition, my knee has been hurting since the Jeremiah Bishop Gran Fondo on Sunday and I didn’t want to push it.
Just over that dune is – the Atlantic Ocean
I went by Rest Stop 1 and eventually was solo. The group I was in and was riding a sensible pace started to break up into ones and twos and was a little too slow for me. I started passing some people and came upon two riders side by side with one woman following. My pace was a bit faster and as I passed the woman I saw a jersey with Colorado climbs. I slowed to talk.
The jersey was from the Bicycle Tour of Colorado. The rider, Sandra, told me she was with two guys but they weren’t going to wait for her. She seemed mentally to be struggling with the thought of today’s century. And she would become my ride partner for the day although I didn’t know it at the time. We rode 3-4 miles to Rest Stop 2 (I had blown by Rest 1). She caught up with her friends at the stop and after I filled my water bottles I looked but she was already gone.
My bib for the day
I didn’t think too much of it. We hadn’t ridden together much and after meeting her friends I thought maybe they would pace her. Plus I had bigger problems. My Garmin showed 0.0 miles. Somehow it had reset. I didn’t know what happened to the data (44 miles) and was disappointed that my data might show 60 miles instead of 100.
I rolled out from the rest stop and was riding solo passing some riders and thought I should slow down, let a group pass me, then jump in. And I did that. A group of about 10 rolled by and I latched on. We soon caught Sandra who was up the road riding solo, and I told her that this group was her speed. She joined us. We rolled together to Assateague where she met her friends and introduced me to Greg and her other friend (who has no name).
Greg asked me if I was pacing her and I told her I was. Or he asked if I was waiting for her. So the four of us rolled out of Assateague together. Greg set a pace and when it got too fast for Sandra I would drop back with her. Eventually, a fast paceline came by and Greg jumped in with them. That left me to pace Sandra and soon, 10 others.
Stock photo from Internet; I was passed by one of these today.
I kept my eye on Sandra and when I got the pace too high, I would back it off. I thought someone, anyone, from the 10 riders on my wheel would come forward but none did. This is the Sea Gull Century where everyone wants a free ride. I’m not complaining, I did that for the first half of the ride. I even purposely slowed the pace thinking it would be too slow for someone and they would come up and pick up the pace. None did. So I towed them all the way to the Rest at MP 80.
When we left there we rode together. Again, Greg was with us then he went when he found a faster group to jump in with. Sandra and I rode sometimes side by side and she expressed amazement that I was just chatting and she said she was struggling. She asked me just to pull her, which I did. (Insinuating, just pull and shut up – LOL)
Sandra entering the finishing underground at Salisbury U.
We pulled into the finish line together. I showed her the “actual” finish and she said, “I’m good.” And then she left. No goodbyes. No thanking me for pacing her for most of the ride. It’s not like I wanted her phone number (she was my kids’ age) but no goodbye. It just seemed like an odd and disappointing way to end. I found the pie and ice cream and found my way back to my car.
The official finish line
I had a good ride. My knee, which had been hurting, wasn’t hurting too bad. Even backing off my pace to ensure Sandra would reach the finish, I was happy with my total time. And then I checked Garmin and saw the missing data was there, saved in a separate ride. I would go to a site called gotoes.org which could take two rides and put them together as one. I did. It worked. One long ride.
The rain in Ocean City at 6:00 a.m. had dried up by the start. It was overcast most of the day with just a brief bit of sunshine. Leaving Assateague we had a bit of “spitting” rain but nothing to make us wet. Occasionally the roads were wet but the overcast kept the temperature in the low 70s and made for a pleasant ride.
And while I may be playing the hero for helping Sandra, in truth, she helped me. I hadn’t done a ride longer than 80 miles this year and my rebuilt knee was hurting. Helping her was really helping me. And she helped me to a great ride.
And some things we talked about:
Ride the Rockies no longer has a lottery but is first-come-first-served
RAGBRAI is mostly a camping event
Trek Travel is a great touring company – go to France
I need to rethink the sleepover component of this event. I stayed at home and got up at 4:30 a.m. to drive to Harrisonburg. Four hours of sleep is not enough.
Bib 19 – pretty cool
I arrived at 7:20 a.m. thinking I had plenty of time. I did not. Registration was slower than expected (efficient but there were a lot of people checking in at 7:30 a.m.). Each time I was ready to roll out from the car I seemed to be missing something. Glasses. A spare rear light. Arm warmers.
We were given timing chips to attach to the fork. I took mine to the start then wrapped it around the fork. Around the fork and a spoke. I didn’t notice. There was two minutes before the start. A rider next to me said, “Do you know you have that wrapped around a spoke?” Damn. I had nail clippers to trim the zip ties and cut them off. I simply put the guy in my pocket and off we went through downtown Harrisonburg.
South Fork South Branch Potomac River (WV)
We circled the block then as the group was headed out of town I went back to start and picked up two new zip ties. I then headed through town and saw the tail of the group up the road. I quickly made my way to the end of the group and found Robert Hess. Once I caught Robert we pedaled a little faster and we moved up through the group.
Kathy Mitchell
I caught a woman wearing a Spokes of Hope cycling jacket. I told her my other kit was Spokes of Hope and asked her what she knew about Spokes of Hope. She told me the jacket belonged to her father-in-law and “we’re from Pittsburgh.” I asked her if her father-in-law was Dave Mitchell. She was blown away that I knew, or knew of, her father-in-law. We stopped for a photo before the routes would split.
Welcome to West Virginia
Robert and I rode ahead to the split (Mile 8) where he would turn left (35 miles route) and I would turn right (100 miles route). Because I had to ride to catch the back of the group I was pretty certain I was the last on the road headed to the century route. I wondered if I would catch anyone.
I did catch a few riders before U.S. 33 and the climb over the mountain. I still had not stopped to properly attach my timing chip and decided it wasn’t worth it.* I am still recovering fitness from my knee replacement surgery and I wasn’t going for any KOM (King of the Mountain) segments. Still, I moved the chip from my jersey pocket to the seam in my shorts just above the knee. Maybe it would work.
Looking back at the climb out of Virginia
The descent off the mountain was fast. I made up for my slow ride up with a quick descent. Still, I felt I was more cautious than I had been before May 16. The risk/reward of a couple extra MPH wasn’t worth it.
My shoe didn’t feel right and at the second rest stop, also the base of the Reddish Knob, Kelly, from Rocktown BIcycles in Harrisonburg, fixed my cleat the best she could. She also took a photo of me going up the 18% climb.
As I pulled out of the rest stop, I was side by side with a 15 year old, Ben, from Winchester. He asked me about the climb, having been told it’s not has hard as the climb we did on U.S. 33. I told him it was much harder. Someone lied to him.
Kelly from Rocktown Bicycles and a young volunteer
We kept talking and stayed together for much of the climb. Perhaps two-thirds of the way up I was going faster and did not want to stop. I didn’t know if he stopped or was going slower but eventually I did not see him any longer.
And I felt cramping coming on. This is where a lack of serious riding since my knee surgery was catching up to me. I shouldn’t be cramping and yet I was. When I reached the summit I looked down the road and so no one. There was another rider waiting and he asked if I knew about a scenic overlook. I did not but decided to go up a narrow access road that might lead to one. I had gone about 1/4 mile and was cramping worse. I turned around.
View from WV/VA state line
The descent off the mountain was sketchy, Soaked with sweat, I had nothing to clean my glasses. They were foggy and with the rough pavement, I took the descent cautiously.
Reaching the next rest stop, I had a decision to make. Head on home or do a 20-mile loop to finish the century ride. Cramping is a sign of body fatigue and I thought on a day I was cramping it would be dumb to add what was now an optional loop. If I had 40 miles to finish I would suffer but I was 20 miles from the finish and didn’t need to add the loop. Also, Ben was doing the 80 (or 75, whatever it was) and we would stay together.
Barry and Event Director, Erin Bishop
At the finish, we were greeted by cheerleaders from JMU. Katie Yates, one of my referees who attends JMU, came over and joined us for a post-ride meal. A real surprise was Robert called Ben up to the podium. He had won the KOM for his age group. Since I took him over the mountains I think he owes me one of his polka dots.
Youth KOM winner, Ben
After our dinner, I went to stand up. Ouch. The legs hurt. It was a hard day on the bike and without a good fitness base, I made the right decision not to finish the century. Next year!
With Katie Yates
*Perhaps not the exact measured climb but on RideWithGPS my time in the past has been 30 or 31 minutes. Yesterday it was 40 minutes. Reddish Knob I’ve done in 45 minutes, today was 1:02. I was right. It was not worth race timing.
Each year I look forward to my ride from Somerset to the family reunion near Punxsutawney (which is actually Winebark Park in Canoe Twp., near Rossiter). When my parents lived in Friedens, I barely had enough time to get there. But when they moved to Somerset I just didn’t have enough time to travel there safely before the noon meal. The road from Somerset to Friedens at 6:00 a.m. is just too sketchy.
Leaving Team Kia in Richland
Rather than leave in the dark, I checked with my nephew, Josh Reese, and parked at the Kia dealership in Richland. It was easy-off, easy-on for access from US Rte 219. When I arrived there was a heavy fog and I delayed my start until I felt safe enough.
Good morning Johnstown! The Inclined Plane.
Leaving the Kia parking lot is a little like riding the Thunderbolt roller coaster at Kennywood Park in Pittsburgh for the first time. Rather than start by pedaling, I almost could take a half pedal turn then coast for three and one-half miles.
The fog in Johnstown on Clinton Street
Of course, I didn’t do that. It was all downhill and I pedaled most of the way, only occasionally dropping into a tuck and coasting. What a great way to begin a trip. Rather than go through Johnstown as fast as I could I went sight-seeing, mainly taking some photos of the Inclined Plane.
Who doesn’t like a picture of a caboose? (Walnut Street at William Penn Ave.)
The road (Pa. Rte 271) out of Johnstown is through East Conemaugh and up a mountain. But it seems to be graded at a consistent grade, I would guess around 4%, and I always find it easy (although my climb data may disagree). Traffic was mostly good as I went through Mundy’s Corner, Nanty Glo and Twin Rocks up to US 422 at Belsano.
Ghost Town Trail
I was on US 422 for less than half a mile then turned on (and stayed on Rte 271). I was surprised about a mile in to pass a bike trail crossing. This was an extension of the Ghost Town Trail. It looks like a nice trail, very lightly traveled, but best for bigger tires and not this road bike. At least for long distances.
Rte 271 north of Belsano
This is always my favorite part of the trip – the 13 miles to Northern Cambria. Rte 271 has good pavement, little traffic, and is easy pedaling, with only one climb along the way (up to Nicktown). I could smell the corn in the field. And occasionally, manure.
Rte 271 near Duman Lake Park
I stopped at Duman Lake to use a porta-john and also for a photo op. There is a climb to Nicktown which I only later learned was a Strava Segment. I didn’t know I was racing. I will have to come back tomorrow and put up a decent time.*
Duman Lake County Park
At Nicktown is a four mile descent to Northern Cambria. On past rides, I have hit 49 mph but today only went to 44 mph and got in a tuck. That was fast enough (and was also the speed limit – 45 mph). I have found that since my crash in Ohio I am more cautious than I have been and I have never been careless.
On the climb up 271 (Blue Goose) towards Nicktown
I stopped in Northern Cambria and saw my cousins, Don and Nancy Lowmaster, and their daughter. I couldn’t stay long but enjoyed the short time we had.
Tracy and Barry
As I was leaving Northern Cambria, I was passed by a truck pulling a trailer with a small tractor on it. The driver got out and as I approached, motioned for me to pull over. This did not feel like an angry setup and I complied. Then he asked if I was “the Barry Sherry.” Well, I admitted as much. But who was that stranger?
Mike Perrone
The driver was Mike Peronne, the former postmaster in Cherry Tree, Pa. We had never met but we had talked and he knew once a year I rode through here. And he said “and I saw your hair and figured it was you.” LOL. We talked for about five minutes before we both headed up 219 towards Cherry Tree.
Bridge at Winebark Park
The rest of the trip I thought about that interaction with the stranger. Those last 20 miles are the hardest as the road turns heavy and there is a lot of climbing. Steep climbing and grades that don’t remain constant.
Johnstown, Pa.
The last couple miles are on Porterfield/Canoe Ridge Road and pass a few Amish homes. A little girl in a blue dress excitedly waved to me. Of course, I waved back. As did a boy about 10-12 years old. And a man climbing a ladder. It is always enjoyable riding through this stretch because the Amish are always so friendly to me. I think they relate to cyclists as they ride bikes and we face the same dangers on the road they do whether it’s by bike or by horse. And I am the stranger to all of them.
_____ EDIT/EPILOGUE – I did go back on Sunday. Can’t believe a crappy time on Strava would bug me enough but I could not leave those two climbs (the other Station Road coming out of Twin Rocks) with such bad times. So on Sunday, I went hard, first on Station Road Climb. Since I started at Krispy Kream and basically went downhill to Twin Rocks, the “engine” wasn’t warmed up. Still, I lowered my time from 7:38 to 5:30, a reduction of 23%. When I got to Blue Goose Climb I was warmed up. I went hard and lowered my time from 8:26 to 7:10 which was only a reduction of 15%. Aaah. I’ll never get KOMs on these climbs but at least my name isn’t associated with sucky times anymore. And on my way back, I went through a new segment that I wasn’t aware of. My time sucked. Must go back again.
Krispy Kream in Belsano
At least I finished with a good recovery drink. In a cone.
I pulled into the parking lot at Hanna Springs Elementary school and got my bike from the truck of the Kia Optima I had rented. Not an ideal rental car but I could lower the two back seats and the trunk was roomy enough that the bike would fit, minus the front wheel.
Although I was at least 20 minutes early, I was in a hurry to find my “teammates” for the day. I did not anticipate meeting Vanessa and her friends because they were departing at 9:00 a.m. and not rolling out at 8:00 a.m., the start of the 50-mile ride. I got on my bike and went 20 yards before returning to the car. Lights.
I had brought a rear tail light for the bike and flashing helmet lights. I have found myself much more antsy on the bike since my crash, even though I was near no one. No riders. No walkers. And especially no cars but I found in the last week as I returned to riding that cars especially made me antsy. Those lights would do no good locked in the car for the day.
In honor of my cousin, Kay Walborn, fighting a good fight
Properly lit up, I rode down Hackberry Street and was directed to the Atlas start – I followed others via sidewalks or just cutting through the park’s grass. I wanted to get a look at the Mile of Silence, a mile (or quarter-mile) of signs dedicated to people fighting or have fought cancer. I found the sign dedicated to my cousin, Kay Walborn. To see the others would have to wait until we rode this stretch at the end of the ride.
Roll out at the start of the 50-mile group
I had two ride options today: a 25 mile loop or a 50 mile loop. I did not come to Texas to ride 25 miles. So I was committed to 50. While normally I can ride 50 with almost no effort, since knee surgery in February, I only had ridden 50 miles once. That was three weeks ago from Reston to Purcellville when I discovered Scott and Nichole had sold their bike shop and moved to France.
But after the crash and concussion, I was off the bike completely for 10 days and then allowed to slowly introduce “light activity.” I rode 10-12 miles three of four times although I rode 26 miles once. The day I rode 26 miles I cut it short and thought then about changing all my reservations from this weekend to the Livestrong Challenge in October instead. But I didn’t.
I looked for Mary. She is the president of the Rice University Cycling and Triathlon team and a friend of mine who I met five years ago. I saw the Rice jerseys lining up at the start and asked Cat, one of their riders, if she could hold my bike long enough so I could hug Mary. She obliged.
Mary, Barry Sherry
Mary introduced me to Cat and Caitlyn. And Brian, who was a 2009 alum of the T4K. She said we could ride together, they would probably go 16-18 mph and I thought I could handle that.
We rolled out and quickly Brian was off the front and Mary and I had to bridge up to his group. His fiancé (?) was with him as well as another rider. If they introduced me then I suck at remembering (which is true). This is especially true since my brain injury. My short-term memory, especially involving names, is lacking.
Rest Stop 1
I don’t know how it happened but we organized and Brian and I were on the front, setting a nice easy (so I thought) pace, although a couple of times we were asked to slow down.
The thought that “an easy 50 miles” would be my first effort since the concussion and that I should save myself did not exist. In reality, I was burning matches that I would need at the end, without even realizing it because the pace we were going is one I maintain when I am in “bike shape.” With Brian and me at the front, we averaged 17 mph over 13 miles, our fastest segment of the day.
At one point I even told Brian that I probably shouldn’t be up here setting the pace the entire time and should drop back and sit in. But I didn’t.
Brian (left), Mary farther up on right
There were four rest stops on this course which made for an easy day. My group stopped at all four. Because I anticipated getting a complimentary bottle from Mellow Johnny’s with my rental, I had brought just one water bottle. A sponsor, Bush’s Chicken, had some bottles, not necessarily for the bike, but I was offered one and put it on my bike.
Rest stop 3 – We were about to start the oil section
The roads were mostly “heavy” roads. Those are of the chip and seal variety and don’t present a smooth riding surface. They didn’t affect my ride or comfort, but I was working harder than if I was on smooth pavement.
At Mile 27 we had a rest stop just as we turned onto a newly surfaced road. By new I mean yesterday. Literally yesterday. Fresh oil. I was very glad I was not on my bike but was on a rental. Our group stayed together but after five miles or so I noticed that I had gapped Mary. I slowed a little for her to stay with me and we joined a teammate. We had 11 miles on that tar and chip mess.
With the sign for Cousin Kay
At our last stop, Mile 38, the star seemed to be this 9-week old German Shepherd puppy named Murphy. Everyone wanted to pet him and he only wanted relief on the ground under a table in the shade. I was hoping his owner was getting him enough water as I was finding my own.
This is a supported ride and at every stop they had bags of ice. One did not have to settle for lukewarm water in your bottle but always could add ice and make it ice old. I refilled my bottle (the second one stayed on my bike with 100 degree water in it) and went to tell Mary that I couldn’t wait for everyone to finish eating fruit and filling bottles before rolling out.
I could feel my body shutting down and I didn’t want to spend more time at this stop than necessary. But Mary’s group didn’t linger and we were soon on the road. We were off that new chip and seal road but it looked like we had a half-mile climb right out of our stop.
Brian and his couple of riders went. Mary hadn’t yet clipped in so I went at a slower pace determined to let her catch me. I looked back and could see her but also saw a couple gaining on me. First the man passed me then his wife passed me. And I felt a twinge.
Strangely enough, whether the road got steeper or leveled out a bit I couldn’t tell you, but I found myself passing this couple. We were all riding at our own pace.
About a quarter-mile later, Mary caught up, along with a friend. We had talked for most of 38 miles but said nothing the last 10. It was a sign to me that I was beat.
There was a strong headwind. A strong, hot headwind. It seemed every time I looked up the road was going up. There were no major climbs just a gradual slog into the winds.
The twinge was a warning. My body was shutting down. I carried a bottle of Hot Shot designed to eliminate cramping. I had never needed it before but was able to unseal it and drink about 1/3 of it at once. And just like that, the cramping went away.
Hot Shot to eliminate cramps
We continued on, without talking. As the road turned up again Mary pulled away. Earlier in the day I would have gone with her but I knew better than to try. I was light-headed. And I was watching my heart rate monitor. It seemed to record a higher than believable rate. I was pushing 170 bpm yet I wasn’t breathing heavy.
I also thought, in no particular order, that maybe my blood pressure was way off. I couldn’t feel my heartbeat at 170 bpm but maybe I was ready to have a stroke. I saw one SAG vehicle go by and lamented they had room for three bikes on the back and they had three bikes on the back. I thought maybe I would pull over and call for a SAG but sitting on the side of a shade-less road seemed more punishment than moving forward.
In Memory of Alex Shepherd
With Mary up the road, I was keeping pace with her friend, neither of us saying a word. I changed my Garmin screen and could see I had 5.2 miles left. Then 4.5. Then 4.0. Mary’s friend seemed to be struggling and it was all I could do to tell her “3 miles to go – we got this.” I counted down 2.5 then 2. Then we passed a couple of riders coming in from their 25-mile ride which unconsciously may have given us a boost. And we saw Mary.
With one mile to go, we caught Mary and soon turned down the street to make the Mile of Silence. I asked Mary to stop with me so I could get a picture of Kay’s sign. And then I sought out signs for Jake and Alex (Jacob Grecco and Alex Shepherd).
In memory of Jake Grecco. I repositioned his sign to a better location.
Mary and I rode the last half mile together, with Mary, not me, wanting to stop and take some pictures of the old downtown. Another sign I wasn’t thinking straight.
Lampasas, Texas – the town of murals
We parked our bikes and I called Vanessa. She had texted and wondered if I was there and I wasn’t going to mess around with texts. She asked if I was OK and told me I didn’t sound good. Her group was in the food line and allowed me to cut in. I was so cramped and tired that social norms (not cutting line) were not going to be obeyed.
I met her friend, Kevin Hellgren, and then a big surprise to me, Kristina Schommer. She was my bicycle buddy (pen pal) four years ago with the Ozarks team in 2014. It was great to finally meet her.
We found someone who found this year’s bicycle buddy, Grant McFarlin. After meeting we talked about the day’s ride. He had done the 25-mile route. I am a big supporter of the T4K program including their safety and training. They have a required metric that all riders must meet – a 10-hour century ride. Grant told me one of the riders had crashed at Mile 90 in April and never finished his requirement.
Grant McFarlin, Barry Sherry
So on Thursday, the day before they were to leave, Grant and two other riders, joined this rider so he would finish his test and ride the T4K. Grant had ridden a century on Thursday, 70 mile roll out yesterday, so he was to be excused for a 25-mile ride today.
Grant couldn’t stay and talk much as they were getting ready to present. After this year’s T4K teams presented, music started playing and everyone sort of scattered. I was told that Grant walked “that way.” And pointed to the horizon.
Although I had cramped even while sitting and eating under the big tent, I needed 1.5 miles to make 50. I would have quit at 49.99 two hours earlier but thought I would take “the long way” back to my car. As I arrived, there were just two cars left in the lot. Mine and a pickup truck next to mine. And Grant was talking to the driver.
Grant and his girlfriend, Lizzie Hill, had walked over to the school and I was able to see him before they would depart. That warmed my heart I could say goodbye.
They walked back to the event and I drove off into the horizon. Or sunset. Or to the nearest In-N-Out Burger for dinner. Yea, I think that was it.
EDIT/EPILOGUE – I still had the effects of my concussion and should not have traveled to Texas for this ride. My body was not in shape (see photos) and certainly could not handle a 50-mile ride in Texas heat. But the next night, in Houston, was the last night that I had headaches from the crash so I was healing. Slowly.
I opened my eyes. I was slow to wake and remember seeing a river. Strange. Where was I?
After at least six surgeries in the last 15 years plus another 2-3 “procedures,” I was used to waking up from anesthesia. There’s a bit of grogginess followed by a desire to go back to sleep. Each time I knew I was in a hospital and would be going home in one or two hours. I felt like I was coming out of anesthesia.
The left side of my body hurt. My leg was bleeding from road rash. My left shoulder hurt. I thought I may have broken my collarbone. But mostly, I wanted to go back to sleep.
The high bridge in Piqua
I heard a voice. I don’t remember a face with the voice and the only words I recall were “I’ve called 911 and I’ve answered that question seven times now.“*
I had no clue where I was or what I was doing. This was much different than 15 minutes earlier.
Somehow an ambulance made its way onto the trail and paramedics were talking with me. I don’t remember any of the conversations with one exception. I asked where I was. The response was “Ohio.”
Paramedics at the trail head
What? How was I in Ohio? Or why? I had no clue why I was here. My memory from earlier in the day was gone. I had my bike. I was wearing cycling clothes and it was obvious that I was on a bike ride but where and why?
A park ranger arrived in a pickup truck. At first, I didn’t know where I was so I certainly didn’t know how I got there and where I was parked. Or if I was parked. But my memory slowly was coming back and they asked me if I was parked at the trailhead about a mile south of here. They had seen my car and I told them I was parked there. The paramedics wanted me to jump in the ambulance but I just wanted to go back to my car. I did not try to ride my bike. They put it in the back of the truck and the only act of clarity I had was to turn off the Garmin so it did not record more miles than I actually earned. I rode with the ranger.
Some of my memory was coming back to me. We traveled almost one mile when we came to a trailhead which is where I had parked. The ranger asked me if that was my car and I told him it was.
The paramedics stopped and checked me one more time. I was parked right across from the highway from a hospital. They encouraged me to go to the E.R. to get cleaned up. I was pretty bloodied and my shoulder hurt, reminiscent of my broken collarbone five years ago.
The parking lot at the hospital was crowded. I saw one empty space up front for handicapped parking. I took it. I had a handicapped parking placard still in effect from my knee replacement surgery and on this day I needed to be close. I was still in a fog and forgot to hang the placard but wasn’t ticketed.
I was wearing cycling shoes. My cycling jersey was ripped. They asked me if I had been biking. And that was sort of the highlight of the exam. They cleaned my leg wounds (mostly) and X-rayed my shoulder (negative). The nurse told me she was going to take my blood pressure again. I said to her “again, but you haven’t taken it yet.” She responded, “Don’t you remember? I took it when you first came in here about 30 minutes ago.”
Have I been biking?
Despite this exchange, this was not enough to suggest they should examine me for a head injury. And while it’s possible they did a full exam on my head which I don’t remember, there was nothing on the discharge paperwork stating they had checked me for a concussion. Not only don’t I remember them ever checking me for a head injury, the discharge paperwork did not list it either.
I would not have been happy but they should not have discharged me and let me drive. But I left and went back to the trail. I was going to ride some more (this was the primary indication I had a head injury). I went to get on the bike and saw the rear derailleur was messed up. The hanger was broken. I could not ride.
Broken hanger
Slowly my memory started coming back. It was a cool and cloudy day. It looked like it might rain at any moment. And I wanted to ride near Piqua.
The Sherry family in front of the Lockington church/parsonage in 1966. L-R: Brenda, Bernie, Naomi (holding Betsy), Brad, Rev. Harry, Barry
This was to be a pre-ride before the Ride of Silence in Dayton at 7:00 p.m. I had parked in Troy at a trailhead of the Great Miami River Trail and ridden north to Piqua. There was some mud on the trail and I passed a worker sweeping and I thought he was spreading the mud around.
Worker spreading the mud around on the trail
I chose to ride this morning’s route as my own journey back in time. We had moved to the small village of Lockington in 1964 when I was almost nine years old and lived here for three years. The small parsonage is now an extension of the church.
Lockington Kirkwood Bridge
From Piqua, I rode to the Kirkwood bridge which was a covered bridge when I lived here. As a kid, I could ride my bike all over and this one was tough because in an otherwise pancake-flat topography, there was an actual hill to ride down from Lockington and then back up. The bridge burned in 1989 and was replaced with just a bridge. Looks like a roadway.
Kirkwood Bridge today
As a kid, I rode my bike to deliver newspapers (Piqua Daily Call – I made 2 cents per paper), to the Piqua Country Club to golf, and to Piqua to Echo Hills Golf Club where a youth season pass cost $5 for the year. No helmets and I don’t remember ever carrying water.
The former parsonage in Lockington, Ohio
We would use our bikes to rid litter off the roads. A soda (or pop) bottle was made of glass and carried a 2-cent deposit. These were like gold to kids. Find five, and it wasn’t that hard, and we would take them to Forsythe’s Frozen Locker in Lockington. We could trade five of them in for a cold Mountain Dew (10 cents) that we would drink there. A bonus would be to buy a frozen Zero candy bar for another five cents. While history will tell us the 1960s were a turbulent time for a kid growing up, actually they were pretty good.
It was a nice trip back in time. I found myself a bit fearful on some of the roads with the cars going by too close for comfort. And I think back to 50 years earlier when I was a kid. I rode on these roads and either those drivers were much more careful than today’s drivers, or probably, as a kid, I just did not perceive the risk of riding my bike on a highway – as a 12-year-old.
Piqua is such a beautiful city and I rode through it twice. The trail passes the nuclear reactor which made Piqua the first nuclear-powered city in the U.S.
Lockington Locks
I made my way south on the trail and remember crossing the Great Miami River where four people were walking and taking up the entire width of the trail. I rang a bell and politely announced “passing” and thought it was a bit strange that three moved to the right and one moved to the left. I went right through them. And my memory ended right there.
Bridge over the Great Miami River
What happened next will remain a mystery. I have no memory of being on the train south of the bridge. I would wake up and see the river and hear a voice.
I would later compare the time stamp on my Garmin file with the timestamp of the 911 call and determined I was unconscious on the trail for six minutes. A retired Piqua cop, Paul Sullenberger, happened to be riding by and saw me. It was his voice I remember hearing.
Library, Piqua, O.
I don’t recall how the ambulance(s) got there. Nor do I remember talking to the paramedics. But I did. I don’t remember the 911 call yet I can be heard talking on it. I must have undergone some type of exam – and passed. I was told later that I knew the date and my name. I don’t remember having any conversation.
After 90 minutes the E.R I was discharged. I was still in a fog. A major fog. I just hoped to make it to Springfield, Ohio, where I had pre-paid for a room. I did. I was still sleepy but knew with a head injury that sleep wasn’t good. I stayed up as late as I could and went to sleep fearful that I might not wake up.
___ *The question was “Did you see me go down?” (He hadn’t)
I came to Ohio to ride the Little Miami Scenic Trail and to catch up with my friend, Bob. I parked in the beautiful little town of Loveland where we would meet and ride north.
Little Miami Scenic Trail in Loveland
Even before 9:00 a.m., it was a balmy 79º as we rolled out of Loveland. Our destination was initially was Morrow where we would find lunch.
Loveland, Ohio
We had ridden less than eight miles when we came to a spur. I saw the trail with the sign towards Lebanon. Although we stayed on the LMST for another 400 meters, I raised the possibility of following that trail.
Little Miami Scenic Trail, Loveland
We turned around and followed this trail for one mile before the trail ended and became signed bike path. At first, we followed Ohio Rte. 15 north before deciding that this wasn’t going to be the most bike-friendly route to Lebanon. We turned around and followed the bike route signs we initially missed (or ignored).
Lebanon
Surprisingly, we had a hill to climb. Yes, a hill. Although Ohio is generally flat, and the LMST is definitely flat, the closer you are to Cincinnati the hillier the terrain becomes.
Bob riding through downtown Lebanon
We got over the hill but as we were descending to Lebanon, Bob had a flat. And no repair kit. I had a spare tube and we were able to repair his tire and keep going.
Lebanon
Lebanon is a pretty town. IMHO, almost all these Ohio towns are beautiful. The older the houses the wider the streets and the prettier the town.
Lebanon
We found a nice place to eat at the Cherry Street Cafe. With some outdoor seating it was the perfect place to eat, nestled in near the train museum.
Cherry Street Cafe, Lebanon
We were on the other side of the hill from the LMST and with full stomachs had to ride back up over the hill from where we came. Of course, we got to enjoy a nice descent back to the spur trail then over to the Little Miami Scenic Trail.
Loveland
Going back we remarked how many squirrels we saw. Shortly after that observation a squirrel darted out and just missed my wheels. Unfortunately, there was a thump as Bob hit it. Bob was lucky he did not go down. The squirrel was not so lucky.
Crossing the Little Miami River on the spur trail to Lebanon
The trail is lovely. Loveland is beautiful. I would love to come back someday and ride the entire trail.
