United States - peaceonabike

August 30, 2010August 12, 2021

King of the Mountains – Men’s Division

GEORGETOWN, WASHINGTON, D.C.

After some incessant nagging, Kelley Noonan and David Vito invited me to ride with them. I had been used to seeing them on The Bike Lane shop rides out of Reston on Saturdays but it has been a while since I have been there. The last time I saw Kelley was when she was wiped out on our group ride on May 2. I last rode with David on April 17. I looked forward to seeing them again.

Although I wanted to bike from home to meet them, I didn’t leave myself quite enough time to bike the entire distance so I drove to The Bike Lane in Burke and rode from there. I intercepted Kelley and David at Gallows Road on the Washington & Old Dominion bike trail and we rode from there to the Custis Trail to Crystal City then across the Key Bridge into Georgetown.

We met with a group of cyclists riding from Revolution Cycling. It was their shop ride. While they had two groups, and I would have preferred to ride with the faster group, Kelley and David were looking for an easy spin preparing for the Patriot Half Ironman in two weeks. Kelley had warned me that the pace would be slow as some riders were not comfortable in a group.

Kelley was right. On the route towards Great Falls (Md.) I dropped to the back to find Kelley, and she and a couple of riders were missing. I rode back to the front and told the ride leader, Katie, that we had dropped Kelley. So we waited and had the group reform.

Once we got rolling again, we weren’t far from “the hill.” David and Kelley had either warned me or told me that I would like the hill up to Great Falls. One mile long, it wasn’t overly steep, but enough to shed all the other riders. David had said I would win the King of the Mountains on this hill.

Just as we approached it, and it has a subtle rise, not a wall, announcing its presence, David pointed it out and we took off. David is less than half my age and I figured, even if he’s not a true climber, I still had no chance. There’s no way my legs could produce the power that young legs can. I did what a savvy veteran would. I let him pass and then I sat on his wheel up the entire climb.

I kept wondering when he was going to drop me, and at one point he did pull away by 10 – 15 feet (4 meters) or so but that was it. And then I got back on. I also figured I couldn’t hold him off if I tried to drop him too early. One big problem I had was that I didn’t know where the hill ended. I know, “at the top” but with each rise and each curve, how close were we to the top?

And then it happened. Sarah Brown, who probably weighs no more than 85 pounds, came flying by us. She is a new rider, maybe 23 years old, stands about five feet tall, and has the skinniest legs I have ever seen. She has no weight or body fat on her at all. Maybe worse, she couldn’t have been on our wheels when we left everyone behind and must have decided after we were gone 100-200 yards that she was going to catch and pass us.

I told David to go, and I think he tried, but neither of us could catch her. I found out later that she ran cross country and track in college. I bet she flies.

Nearing the top of the climb, I was able to pass David and take second in the KOM – but first in the Men’s Division. Or first in the Over 100 Pounds Division. Or the Over 25 Division.

Maybe at one time, when I was 25 like David, it would bother me, but I am just happy to be alive and do what I can do. I’ll gladly lose to Sarah (weighs half of what I do) or David (is half my age) and still be in the top group climbing the hill.

On a day when the temperature hit 92º, I ended up riding 65 miles. I loved another great day in the saddle.

Note: Photograph from Princeton Athletics website, http://www.goprincetontigers.com

August 22, 2010July 25, 2023

LIVESTRONG Challenge 2010

KING OF PRUSSIA, PENNSYLVANIA

With very tired legs and a body to match, I arrived at the hotel shortly after midnight and was asleep by 1:00 a.m. I got up at 5:00 a.m. and headed out of the hotel to Montgomery County Community College for check-in at 6:00 a.m. And no breakfast.

I went to get my ride packet and the volunteer handed me a top contributor’s jersey. That’s all. Thankfully another volunteer corrected her and told her that I get level C (jersey) and the gifts with levels A and B too. But I didn’t get the iPod and will dispute that with them afterward.

Last year I checked in and they rang cowbells and made an announcement that I raised $2900. It was actually more. It was a very welcome introduction.

This year I raised $5,000 and nothing. Sort of disappointing. Maybe more disappointing was that I had qualified for the recognition dinner last night but had to miss it as I was en route from Mt. Washington, New Hampshire to Philadelphia.

I returned to my car and started the assembly of my jersey. I wore the new LIVESTRONG jersey and added my race bib, my honor bib, my memory bib, and my survivor bib. Before I rode I posted a picture of my bibs on Facebook with this heading “Really wish we didn’t need these events.” Then I made my way to the start line.

Livestrong-Philly (2010) Jersey and Bibs
Lots of people honored one person. I honored a bunch!
More names were written on the back too.

At the start line, I could hear Lance Armstrong address the crowd but could only see the back of the stage and his legs. He addressed the 3,300 cyclists and said that he looked forward to a day when we could gather and just ride. He said, “I really wish we didn’t need these events.“

After the comments from Lance, the ride went off 10 minutes late at 7:40 a.m. It was announced that he would ride 100 miles but I heard he cut it short at 45. It was dry at the start but around Mile 20 it would start to rain and it rained steadily and hard at times.

Some of the 3300 Cancer-Fighting friends at Livestrong-Philly

The start was slow, it took perhaps 4-5 minutes before I began moving even though the front of the 100-mile riders had already departed. The first 7-8 miles consisted of working my way farther and farther toward the front. I blew by the first two rest areas and reached the intersection of where the 70-mile group turned but the 100-mile group continued for 30 miles.

I was told that shortly after I went through the intersection LIVESTRONG closed the 100-mile route due to the weather that was moving in. There weren’t too many of us who got to ride 100 on the day. Call me lucky.

Raining at Landis Store. Love how the riders tried to crowd under the tent for protection even though they were soaked.

I was a little sore from yesterday’s climb up Mount Washington but not so much sore as simply without power. When I came to Landis Hill, the longest and steepest hill on the route I wanted to walk like I saw others doing, but knew I couldn’t. I had all the excuses — Mount Washington, four hours of sleep, a 12-hour drive, no breakfast — but knew I had to keep going. And I did.

Rest stop #9 (or #10?). This was at mile 90 and was marked SURVIVOR REST STOP. I stopped hoping for some survivor swag but no one there knew why it was called that. So I ate cake.

A number of people complained about the rain. My standard response was that fighting cancer isn’t bright and sunny. Metaphorically speaking, I expect a rainy day.

I was most disappointed that no one commented about my bib – FU Cancer. In a crowd of people who hated cancer, not one person. One did say “I like your bibs.” And that was all.

Yellow rose at the finish line – Livestrong-Philly 2010

When I saw the sign for 30 miles to go I started rehearsing what I would do when I crossed the finish line. Last year was tough. For many survivors who cross the finish line, it is the end of a difficult journey. For me, it was the realization that my journey had just begun. And it was tough.

Crossing the line as a survivor is emotional. I can’t explain it but you can ride 99 miles and be fine and when you come to the finishing chute in the last mile it becomes very emotional. I wish for none of my friends to ever know what I’m talking about. Today would be different. I was looking forward to crossing this finish line with positive emotions.

After riding all day with no power left in my legs (thanks, Mount Washington) at Mile 90 my legs came back. I started passing people. Tons of people. I both wanted this moment to last but yet wanted to get to the finish.

With one mile to go the sun came out. It would be the only time I would see the sun all day. I entered the right side of the chute for survivors. My final 200 meters went way too fast. Or I went way too fast. I hope they had photographers to capture the moment because I grabbed a rose and held it in the air and almost ran over some people who had stopped. Oops.

On the day the Challenge was only 97 miles. So I rode the extra distance, with the rose between my teeth, to make it 100. It had to be 100.

Livestrong-Challenge Philly 2010
The Rose and the Jersey are from the Livestrong Event
The blanket and the medal are from MWARBH

After I changed out of my soaking wet clothes, I went to the luncheon in the tent. I wore my Mt. Washington Auto Road Hillclimb shirt. Strangers came up to me to ask about the race. Was I doing it? (Yes, already did – yesterday.) What gearing did I use? (24:28) Did you know my friend rode it yesterday? (Uh, no, I don’t think so.)

Wear a bid that says “FU CANCER” and none of the 3,300 cancer fighters wanted to acknowledge it. But put on a Mount Washington shirt and strangers come up and talk. Even with people who hate cancer, they don’t want to talk about it.

Livestrong Challenge Philly 2010 – It’s raining pretty hard

Right after I got back to the car a deluge occurred. Just another day fighting cancer.

August 21, 2010August 23, 2021

MWARBH 2010

GORHAM, NEW HAMPSHIRE

I forgot how friggin hard the mountain can be…

It was August 2006, after knee surgery that I first remember writing that someday I wanted to bike up Mount Washington. In 2007, Ashley and I went to New Hampshire for Newton’s Revenge, one of the two bike races up the mountain. Weather forced the cancellation of the race.

Friday Night Meet & Greet with Peter Salon and Walker Savidge

In 2008 we went back and I made it, albeit with a crash which meant I didn’t make it without stopping, and I was using normal stock gearing on my bike.

I decided I had to go back to make it without crashing or stopping and I would change the gearing. But May 2009, brought its own crash, a broken wrist, an e.Coli infection and a diagnosis of cancer. Yea, it sucked. Ultimately, I was able to ride but promised myself I would return in 2010 as my recovery goal.

Cars entering the Mt. Washington Auto Road

And return I did.

I arrived on Friday morning. I wanted to do a light ride and rolled slowly through North Conway which was congested with tourist traffic. Near the end of town, a couple of riders asked “mind if we jump in?”

I was surprised to see Walker Savidge and Peter Salon, two riders for the Garmin-Transitions U23 team who had come to Mount Washington for the race. Of course, they were in their full Garmin kits. Made me glad I never bought the full Radio Shack kit to wear. I would have felt so stupid.

They didn’t know the roads so I agreed to take them on a short — 60-minute ride. What fun. I turned into the wind and pulled for five miles. We talked about their gearing, they hadn’t made any changes to their road gears — I knew it was too big for the mountain but hey, who am I to say something? It was one cool experience!

Walker and Peter signing posters.
Walker said it would devalue the poster.

As far as the race, I came to the mountain without a ride down and was determined to find one on the race forum. I contacted Ted Essenfeld who agreed to give me a ride down. I met him at the registration area and sent a bag of warm clothes to the top in his SUV.

Tinker Juarez in the black jersey. He competed in Leadville 100 the previous Saturday, finished in 7:30.
I have no idea how he can still be walking.

At the start line, I was soaking up the moment and ignored warming up, instead, I was walking around taking pictures. The ground was rocky and sandy but I was rejoicing being here and being a survivor.

The pros and Top Notch group queue up for their start.
Walker and Peter had the low numbers but weren’t given any
respect by the other riders.

Although there were four age groups, the largest group was the 45+ and it was so large it was split into two. So we had five starting groups, each separated by five minutes. I was in the last group and lined up at the end of our group. I started dead last.

When the cannon sounded I tried to clip in and found neither foot would clip in. Oh boy. The rocky and sandy ground got in my Speedplay cleats and prevented the springs in my cleats from working.

Race announcer Richard Fries and Mary Power, Race Director — with .

After 100 yards I got the left foot clipped in but couldn’t get the right clipped. It would be easier to pedal a bike with platform pedals and tennis shoes than my Speedplay pedals with road shoes that don’t clip in. When I stood to pedal my right foot would slip off the pedal. And bang my chin.

At Mile 5 I was catching a woman, Joan Pew from Maine, who asked if someone was running Speedplay shoes and wasn’t clipped in. You could hear it. Props to her to knowing what brand it was. She offered to take a brush from her bag if we both stopped. I knew we couldn’t get going again so I kept going. It was a kind offer though and greatly appreciated. I would ride it out and keep trying to clip in.

Joan Pew. She offered to stop and clean my shoes.
We would have never got restarted.

The ride up the mountain is 90-100 minutes of willpower. The body says to at least take a break. Indeed, I counted 31 riders who dismounted in front of me and were stopped or walking. One guy was carrying his bike up the mountain rather than ride.

Start of the third group, 35-45 years old – Theodore Essenfeld in white

I forgot how friggin hard the mountain is. I thought there would be some relief after two miles but there wasn’t. It keeps going up at that 12% grade with no breaks.

Two riders on the finishing grade. One was paperboying and would fall over; the other was simply pushing her bike. It is tough.

I crossed the finish line in 1:43 — just two minutes faster than last year. I thought I might have 10 minutes in me, i.e., finish around 1:35. I had ridden almost 3,000 miles this year and been “training” in France. But I’ll take any improvement. I came back cancer-free.

At the summit, I could not find Ted or his wife as she was forced to park in a service area about 200 yards from the top. So I never got into my warm, and dry, clothes. I was stuck in sweaty, nasty, cycling clothes. And a Polartec blanket. That was enough. I had to scrounge to find a ride for me and my bike. I accepted an offer from two different people – one to take my bike and one to drive me down.

Ted Essenfeld. He still owes me a ride down the mountain. Here he has my Trek Travel bag.

I was pleased that I sent up my Trek Travel bag with shoes, warm clothing, food, cell phone (for photos). But with the missed connection at the top, it was all for naught. At the end of the day, I told Mary Power and Kelly Evans, event directors at the Mount Washington Auto Road, that I might not be back next year. Each year gave me a new reason to come back but this year left me fulfilled. Mostly. Oh well, I have six months to think about it (before registration).

NOTE: (1 Aug 2021) – Although Strava was founded in 2009, I certainly was not using it then. But an upload of my data show my point-to-point time was 1:42:15. This is different from the “official” race time which starts at the cannon blast but cannot account for the time waiting on the bridge, dead last, while the front row takes off. It is the best representation for comparison of me to me. This was my best time despite a cleat that would not clip in.

July 4, 2010August 31, 2021

The Bear

MEYERSDALE, PENNSYLVANIA

Oh, Lord, you delivered Daniel from the lion’s den
Delivered Jonah from the belly of the whale and then
The Hebrew children from the fiery furnace
So the Good Book do declare
Oh Lord, Lord if you can’t help me,
For goodness sake don’t help that bear
(Lyrics from The Preacher and the Bear)

I have more than 9,000 miles on my butt riding on the road since I’ve been on a mountain bike. But my niece, Emily Cramer, just bought a new mountain bike and was excited to go riding with her.

In 2003, I rode the Great Allegheny Passage from Pittsburgh (McKeesport) to Cumberland, Md. then on to Washington, D.C. but the section from Meyersdale, Pa. to Cumberland wasn’t open yet. Now it is. I suggested we could do the segment from Frostburg, Md. to Garrett, Pa.

My dad dropped us off in Frostburg as we had left my van in Garrett for our return trip. I took Andrew’s mountain bike and it felt good getting on the trail but I forgot how dirty and dusty it is. The trail from Frostburg heads up the mountain until reaching the Eastern Continental Divide.

We first came to the Borden Tunnel. We didn’t have lights and thought we’d be okay. But once it became pitch black it was weird. One doesn’t realize that part of our balance comes from sight. If you don’t believe it, try standing on one leg for 60 seconds. Then try it with your eyes close and see how you wobble. And so it was as we pedaled. The sense of moving forward disappeared. You could feel yourself pedaling but without seeing trees or walls or buildings it was very hard to tell if you were moving. Except you were pedaling. Weird, weird, and more weird.

We exited the tunnel and came around a corner when we saw it. A pretty large bear up ahead on the trail, perhaps 75 meters. We stopped but I could not get my camera quick enough. And my first instinct was not to photograph it but think about how best to protect us if it should turn towards us. But it didn’t. It looked at us and then turned and continued to cross the trail then head up into the woods.

How wild! I always wanted to see a bear in the wild but always thought, and hoped, it would be from within the safe confines of my car. Not on a bike on a trail.

At this point, we were probably no more than 300 meters from the state line dividing Maryland and Pennsylvania. We had to pass where the bear had crossed the trail and gave a quick look to see if he was still around. I didn’t see him. We came to the state line, took a picture, and moved on. Quickly.

Compared to seeing a large bear, nothing on the ride could then compare. We went through the 3,294 foot (1 km) Savage Tunnel. I was looking forward to seeing a wall of donor bricks but didn’t see any.*

We reached the high point on the trail at Eastern Continental Divide where it goes under Pa. Rte. 2011, McKenzie Hollow Road. I pedaled up this road seven years ago. This was much easier. Although it was “downhill” from there, that’s a 1-2% grade on crushed limestone so there’s no coasting.

And the only pavement on the trail is 50 meters on either side of this crossing.

We crossed the Keystone Viaduct, the Bollman Bridge, passed the Meyersdale train station, and crossed the 2,200-foot Salisbury Viaduct before returning to the van parked in Garrett.

The beauty of the trail is outstanding and it was great riding through and over some of the engineering marvels in the area.

____
*The Big Savage Tunnel Recognition Plaque is in the final phase of review. When complete, it will be erected at the Deal Trailhead.

July 3, 2010January 8, 2022

Johnstown-Ligonier-Somerset Loop

SOMERSET, PA

I came to the mountains to ride and was not disappointed. I left my parents’ place in Friedens and headed north to Stoystown. Rte 281 has no shoulders and moderate traffic but is generally friendly from Friedens to Stoystown.

I had a nice descent past Camp Harmony and the Quemahoning Reservoir. I went to Ferndale then crossed the river into Johnstown.

Coming out of Johnstown I followed Menocher Blvd (Pa. Rte 271) which turned out to be a neat 11-mile mountain climb to the top of Laurel Hill Summit. When I lived in Rector in the 70s this was Laurel Mountain. Now it’s a hill.

**Downtown Johnstown – Inclined Plane on the hillside**

I was disappointed that I only could get my bike up to 48 mph coming off the mountain. I surprised my niece, Bekki Reese, when I stopped at her place in Waterford. I told her someday I would and it would be a complete surprise. Today was the day. She gave me water. Yes!!!

**Rte 271 between Ligonier and Johnstown**

From Waterford, I rode into Ligonier. This is one of the prettiest towns in Pennsylvania and perhaps, in the U.S.

I left Ligonier and rode up Rte 711 to Darlington Rd towards Rector because I knew I could hit 50 mph on that hill. But as I was descending I saw a sign for Bridge Out Ahead. Brakes!!!! If I wanted to return the shortest way to Somerset I could have followed Rte 381 to Jones Mills and then took Rte 31 to Somerset. Instead, I turned around and climbed the hill I just flew down. It was a 12% grade beast in places.

I returned to Ligonier then followed U.S. Rte 30 to Laughlingtown where I took a short nutrition break at the Pie Shoppee (the more letters in the name the more expensive it is). Leaving Laughlingtown I climbed for 3,5 miles to the top of Laurel Mountain — also marked as Laurel Hill Summit.

When I was 16 years old, I was the captain on a tandem and took my blind stoker up this same climb. Not sure our parents knew where we were going that day until I proudly announced where we had been. Today I rode up the mountain. In 1971 we walked the entire way.

Crossing Laurel Mountain Again – Rte 30
between Jennerstown and Laughlingtown

About four miles north of Somerset I stopped at the Quecreek Miners’ site where nine coal miners were lifted to safety from what would have been their watery grave back in 2002. For days eight years ago the nation watched with interest to see if the miners could be rescued alive.

I returned through Somerset, stopped and visited another niece, Hannah Cramer, before returning to Friedens. After 86 miles the legs felt good and I was tempted to go ride another 14 miles to make it an even 100 but my mother had made dinner so it was a good end to a great ride.

June 6, 2010September 15, 2020

A 65-Mile Pull

WARRENTON, VIRGINIA

I arrived at the commuter lot in Warrenton but did not leave myself enough time to get ready. I wanted to change wheels and had to do a quick clothing change in the van. The ride, Airlie to Aldie, was listed as a ‘B’ ride, 65 miles and hilly.

I might call the route moderate and not hilly. I would think there would be an objective measure with climbing feet / miles but it seems to be a guess. Garmin’s corrected elevation shows 3,060 feet over 65 miles. Without the correction the altimeter showed 4,244 feet.

This is important to determine the ride class and speed. If this was a hilly route, and it may have been, then a B average was supposed to be 12-14 mph. A BB pace would be 14-16 and an A pace would be 16-18.

If this was a moderate route then the averages would go up by two mph per category. A B pace would be 14-16. A BB pace would be 16-18.

I made my wheel and clothing changes, grabbed a cue sheet, then rolled out about 10 minutes after the group left. They should have had two miles on me. I began my chase. I thought I spotted a rider after 10 miles but I caught some other cyclists not on this ride instead. Then, on climbing the hill up to The Plains, I spotted 3-4 riders near the top. Once I made visual contact, I took a natural break. And didn’t see the riders again until mile 21.

I didn’t ride 20 mph but I did ride 18 mph, solo, over the first 21.5 miles. It took a little more than an hour which is about right to bring back the two miles I gave up to the group when they left without me. They probably averaged 16 mph.

I had caught the trailing riders, maybe the true B riders, while there were other riders up the road who had stopped at the Safeway for a rest. As soon as they came out and were ready to roll, I jumped in with them. Actually, they left without me but only by 200 meters. I soon caught them and decided I would hang on the back. I lasted on the back about 45 seconds. I soon moved to the front to help with the pulling and didn’t move again for 43 miles.

I rode solo in the wind for 22 miles then pulled for 43. Strange. There were many hills, none were great, but on each one I separated from the group then soft-pedaled at the top to wait. I had thought about dropping the group but, on a group ride, thought that would be a little rude. So “the little engine that could” just kept grinding away and waiting where necessary.

With about four miles to go, a rider finally came to the front. I thought he was going to take over pulling but he seemed more interested in dropping the group. So I went with him. We quickly dropped the other riders. I thought “Donkey, this is a friggin club ride, and you’ve been sitting on my wheel for 40 miles now you’re going to drop me?!” But we rode the last four miles to the end and I did pull away on the final climb to the lot.

On the day I averaged 17.0 mph. I am pleased with that because it was all solo or pulling. And if it was really a hilly route then it qualified as an A pace. And I just beat the storm that had been forming all day.

May 16, 2010February 17, 2024

Amgen Tour of California

SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA

Last year I went to Sacramento to volunteer for the Amgen Tour of California. I had a great, even amazing, experience, and returning this year was one of my post-cancer treatment goals.

After last year’s event, I was in contact with Medalist Sports for a week-long position traveling with the Tour. In February I was contacted by them but respectfully declined as I didn’t know whether I would be recovered enough for the demands of the job. But I still wanted to help and going to Sacramento would be the first step.

I arrived at the volunteer check-in location before anyone else including the coordinator., Gail Keeter, When she arrived she made it known that being first didn’t mean getting the best location, which would be downtown on the inner circuit which they passed three times. I guess that if the “best” assignments were for those who got there first, there would be a rush to be first in line. This was probably conveyed to those who could attend the orientation meeting, which I couldn’t do.

So I went for a walk. A long walk. A two-hour walk along the bike path which is beside the Sacramento River. When I got back there was a check-in line formed and I was deep enough in line, I guess, to get a downtown location. One problem though, while it was “downtown” it wasn’t on the finishing circuit.

A replica of the Golden Gate Bridge across the Sacramento River – for cyclists

It was at 30th and Folsom Blvd. and I was to guard the exit from the parking lot of the KFC/A&W restaurant. Across the street was volunteer Tamy Quiqley, from Redding, California, who was dutifully patrolling the empty parking lot of the Wells Fargo Bank.

With more than 90 minutes before our required reporting time, we decided to walk downtown to the finish. We were able to watch the last six laps of the women’s criterium, won by 17-year old Coryn Rivera. She won the junior group at USA Cycling Nationals two years ago at Seven Springs, Pa., which I also marshaled.

When we returned to our posts a policeman was just finishing taping off the entrances with yellow police tape. And she told us she was assigning junior rangers to assist there. When asked if we should stay there she told us we weren’t needed.

So we then set out to get to the downtown finishing circuit to “help.” We found the corner of N and 15th Streets and started helping the marshals on site. With a phone call or two to friends watching, we could tell the spectators the ETA of the peloton.

Eventually, the helicopter arrived overhead and we knew the riders were down below. Two blocks up from us they flew through the finish line at the start of Lap 1. About one minute later they bore down on us.

When you ride you know you’re fighting, or pushing the wind. But one doesn’t realize the extent until you stand downwind from the peloton. When they were about 25 meters from our location a wall of wind hit us in the face. They made the 90-degree turn, at our location, but would not be so lucky at some other locations. Two major crashes knocked out a number of riders and neutralized the racing on the final two laps, except for overall time bonuses for the first three positions.

Peloton charging hard into the corner – and kicking up dust

One worries not only about the riders cornering safely but also the cars. These drivers are part dare-devils and many squeal their tires as they corner much too fast for the normal person.

Mark Cavendish’s HTC-Columbia Team formed the perfect lead-out train and he stayed on their wheels the next two times they flew by our location. After the last rider passed we ran two blocks to the L street where they were flying by to the finish but we missed the lead-out train delivering the “Manx Rocket” to the finish line. We did see the middle and end riders come in, all at the same time since the peloton had been together inside the final three km when they crashed.

If you can limp on a bike, several later riders came limping on in. One rider from Cervelo Test Team had his entire left thigh bloodied and exposed. George Hincapie didn’t show quite the same road rash but wasn’t feeling too well either.

Believe this is Heinrich Haussler. Ouch.

We tried to get to the podium and could see a corner of it but the crowds were too large. One gentleman asked us who won and we told him Mark Cavendish. He said, “Who?” “But how did Lance (Armstrong) do?” And maybe more than 50% of the spectators fit that category. They came to see Lance and he was supposed to win. But it’s always fun talking about cycling with the spectators.

It was a long but rewarding day. Glad to be back in California.

April 20, 2010August 12, 2021

Scud TT

MONTCLAIR, VIRGINIA

Watch a Grand Tour like the Tour de France and you will see different types of riders based on their body sizes. Of course, there are exceptions to all of these but the “sprinters” tend to be bigger guys with big thighs. And they’re the most daring of all riders. If they can stay together with a stage at the end, one of them will come out of the pack to take it at the line.

The “time trialists” are great at riding at their own pace and this often favors some of the heavier riders who aren’t knocked around by the winds. Riding by oneself you have no protection from the wind.

The “climbers” tend to be smaller riders who always have the best power to weight ratios. The rider who will win a Grand Tour is someone who can do all these fairly well, but usually, the Tour de France is set up to favor climbers. Fabian Cancellara recently won the Tour of Flanders and Paris-Roubaix and may be the best cyclist in the world right now but won’t even be in the discussion to win the tour. Climbers like Alberto Contador, Andy and Fränk Schleck, and, of course, Lance Armstrong, get everyone’s attention.

I have a perfect body to excel at nothing. I’m too big to be a climber although the satisfaction is like none other. I wonder if, in my 20s, my sprinting ability off the bike would have translated to being on the bike? I will never know. I do know that two foot surgeries, one knee surgery, and age have robbed me of any sprinting ability I once had.

If I could pretend for a second, I guess my best discipline would be domestique – hanging back and carrying water to my team leader. And my dream would be not to win the Tour de France but to be the Lanterne Rouge.

Last week, Scott Scudamore posted a ride I called the Scud TT (time trial). He described it as only having 30 minutes so he went out hard and hammered home and tried to beat 18+ mph.

Since Scott and I ride together occasionally and he tells me that I am a much stronger rider than he is, I thought I could go do the same ride and smash his time. So on Thursday I rode to his house, stopped my bike, and then took off on his route to mirror his exact ride. My time was better — 19.3 vs. 18.5, but I was hoping for 20+.

I rode about as hard as I could for 25 minutes or so. 8.5 miles. For all his talk about being a stronger rider, I think it’s a bunch of hooey.

My legs were shot after this effort.

I stayed off the bike on Friday but did referee a high school varsity soccer match at night. And then, Saturday…

Our group ride was canceled so we did our own group ride. Except David Vito and his friend, Vince, showed up on time trial bikes. These bikes are fast. They’re equipped with aero bars for leaning out over the bike although they don’t handle quite as well as a regular road bike. And thus David and Vince suggested we ride the W&OD instead of our normal road route.

There were strong headwinds, 20-30 mph, and I did my best to hang on behind as we headed from Reston to Leesburg. Although Daniel Kalbacher took a pull, I had no pop in my legs on this day. We ultimately did 32 miles at a hard pace and I did one pull on the way back, with a tailwind, and was gone after that.

When I got home I jumped in the shower which eventually became slumping into a hot bath. And fell asleep. Then I moved to the bed where I slept. Then to the sofa. I ended up sleeping most of the time from 4:30 p.m. on Saturday until 2:30 p.m. on Sunday. Different locations, but still sleeping. I had a fever and headache along with an upset stomach.

Two days later the pop hasn’t returned. I am still sleepy. And this is eerily reminiscent of one year ago when I had those fevers which I thought would clear up on their own. They didn’t. Ultimately, in diagnosing an e.Coli infection they discovered cancer. And now I am left to wonder, what is it this time?

April 10, 2010May 20, 2024

SkyMass

FRONT ROYAL, VIRGINIA

A group of eight of us who ride from The Bike Lane went out to Shenandoah National Park for “SkyMass” — a ride up Skyline Drive and over Massanutten Mountain. Many of the riders have been in the group rides out of Reston although I had never spent much time with them before – probably because I was always chasing them.

It was cold at the start – low 40s. It was a beautiful sunny day but windy (blustery) which added to the chill. The cold wind would be with us all day. At the start, I saw Dee Reeb who looked to be absolutely freezing in just a cycling jersey. I wasn’t sure what I would wear but since I had a jacket I gave her my warm warmers and I wore the jacket. And I’m glad I did. I think I would have frozen if I had to watch her ride with no protection on her arms.

We started immediately with a six-mile climb on Skyline Drive at a constant 6-7% grade. With no warmup in the legs, this little climb can hit you hard. But we all stayed together to Dickey’s Ridge Visitor Center. After the visitors’ center, we developed more of a gap on the descent. We had a couple of sick descents at more than 40 mph. I think the hardest I worked all day was closing a gap with three riders on one of the descents. Pedaling downhill, in the wind, at more than 40 mph and gaining slowly on the group in front is hard work. But I connected at which point I was back in their slipstream.

Still early spring in the Blue Ridge Mountains

We reached Thorton’s Gap. Panorama, a store on the drive, did not have drinking water, which appeared to be the story of the day. We simply turned and headed out to Rte 211 for the trip down the mountain. Rte 211 is a mountain road that crosses over the Skyline Drive from Sperryville on the east to Luray (Loo-ray) to the west. The uppermost section has a number of switchback curves.

One rider took off down the mountain and no one went with him. The curves were fun to take but I felt trapped being four or five riders back. At a safe opening, I opened up the pace to move to the front at which point we became “organized.” I glanced down as I was leaning hard in a curve – 35 mph. Awesome!

I was able to pull my group back up to our first rider and we regrouped at the bottom. We headed over some back country roads to our next store looking for water. We reached Hope Mills Country Store on Rte 522. Closed.

Not to worry. We could take on more water after Massanutten.

We had a couple of miles of gravel roads (what was up with that?) and then reached the three-mile 12% climb up Massanutten. This could be a training ground for Mount Washington. The road was constant 12% although not as long. Or windy. But it was a nice climb with a nice descent on the other side.

The trip down the west side of the mountain took us into the George Washington National Forest where we would stop at a campground looking for water. None.

Oh well. After this descent, the road flattened out except for some rollers. Here, three of the guys forced a break while five of us sat back and tried to ride at a steady pace. We caught them at a country store rest stop at mile 62 complete with BBQ chicken. Two riders bought and the rest peeled off a piece or two. It was perfect. I can’t imagine eating an entire breast but a slice was the right amount. And it was good.

Maybe best of all on this day – no road rage incidents. In fact, at one house we passed some folks were sitting on the porch and one guy yelled out “GO USA!” Certainly better than being thrown at. It was a wonderful day!

April 3, 2010September 4, 2020

Peace on a Bike

ALTOONA, PENNSYLVANIA

For five months I looked forward to this day – the day that I would be back on the bike and come back to these mountains.

Much of 2009 was a blur with an illness and then a diagnosis of cancer. Most waking hours were spent thinking of cancer and quite a few sleeping moments as well. The only time I was completely at peace was on my bike.

I came to these mountains to enjoy their beauty and to getaway. Generally, when I was on my bike I thought of nothing else except riding. It was especially so when I was in the mountains.

I rode “The Wall” by Horseshoe Curve four times last year. I also went to the White Mountains in New Hampshire and was able to lose myself in thought. Truly, I found peace on my bike and in the mountains.

We loaded up six riders in Reston, Va., at 7:00 a.m. and drove to Altoona, arriving by 10:30 a.m. It was “wheels down” at 11:00 and we headed out to Frankstown Road. We were greeted by an unexpected one and one half mile climb.

I had promised three great climbs and three screaming descents on my planned 100 km route. As we waited at the top of the hill – this was a no-drop ride – I had to rethink the 100 km route as everyone complained about not being in riding shape. I adjusted.

Adjustment number one was we turned at Newry and started an 11 mile climb but at 2-3%, up to Puzzletown. In Puzzletown we turned on Valley Forge Road. Here I hit 48 mph – pleased, but then disappointed that I couldn’t push it to 50 mph.

Scott Scudamore leading the group up Valley Forge Road

We turned on Old U.S. 22 and began the seven mile climb to the top of the mountain. Once at the stone arch, we went through the Portage Railroad National Park and cut over to Gallitzin for a short break at a country store.

Then we earned our seven mile descent down Sugar Run Road. Three of us formed a paceline while the other three were content to ride it at a more reasonable speed.

At the bottom, we made our way over to Horseshoe Curve and split our group. A bit of a mutiny as Kelly Noonan and David Vito decided to sit out yet another climb, the steepest of the day too. The early season “big ride” was perhaps too much. But we pushed on.

David Vito at the base of Sugar Run Road

I was only disappointed as this was the climb I wanted everyone to experience. Although I was saving the best for last, perhaps we should have gone up this climb first. But we got everyone up and over the top, back to Gallitzin and down Sugar Run Road again. Then we made our way back to the van.

Kelly, David, and Vince at the bottom of Sugar Run Road

In a recovery that is slower than I want, I can say this was the best day I have had since surgery. I really needed this day.

As for peace on a bike, Kelley remarked to me that riding in Altoona one can only think of the suffering on the climb or the fear of descending at breakneck speed. “No wonder you never thought of cancer while you rode here.”

Indeed. Just peace on a bike.