United States - peaceonabike

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.

March 7, 2010July 28, 2021

I’m Back!

ELLICOTT CITY, MARYLAND

Yea, I think I can say that. I’m back!

Many stores open days and weeks before their “grand opening.” Thus it is with my return to cycling. My “official” return from cancer is my own designed ‘Toona Metric Century which will be in Altoona, Pa., on April 3. But it would be foolhardy to jump into a 100 km ride with three massive climbs without riding first. So this weekend were my first group rides at pace since my cancer surgery on November 9, 2009.

The forecast for yesterday was a high of 50 degrees (10 C) — finally — but it was only 36 (2 C) when we left The Bike Lane in Reston, Va. And it was windy too. About 30 riders showed up. I felt good. Had no problems keeping pace with the group. In fact, one rider posted that the pace seemed fast for the first ride of the year (above freezing). Plus we had a catered breakfast back at The Bike Lane when finished. Life is good!

Yesterday’s mileage was a little less than 28 miles as we had to cut out the access paths due to snow and ice and stay on some main roads. In the afternoon I tacked on nine additional miles to Forest Park H.S. to see a college baseball game that didn’t materialize. Bonus Miles!

Barry – Inside the Bike Lane, Reston, Va.

Today was a Potomac Pedalers’ ride called The Hills of Ellicott City. Ellicott City is a historic railroad town, in Howard County, Maryland, adjacent to Baltimore County. It is deep in the Patapsco River valley.

This ride is simple. Ride 13 miles to Ellicott City, find a steep hill, climb, descend, repeat. On our first climb, two riders had gone 1/4 mile ahead so our group of nine hit the steep climb on Ilchester Road together. The climb had two steeps sections, one at 18% and the other may have pushed 20% (I was out of the saddle then and couldn’t read my Garmin display). I caught one of the two riders that had gone way ahead. And waited at the top for the group.

We also climbed College Ave. (16%) and Westchester (an easy 12%). This is the place to find short punchy hills.

I was far back at the start of the climb on Westchester since rather and stop and put a foot down to make my left turn against the oncoming traffic on Frederick Road, I continued up the street and did a U-turn when traffic was clear. I caught and passed every rider on the climb until I integrated with the front group of four.

The ride was great. It was a friendly pace today and we tried to keep the group together. When our group of four reached Ellicott City we waited again to reform. We began our last climb out of the valley on Old Columbia Road as one unit.

Some of the riders of the Ellicott City group ride

The ride back had some “rollers” – no real hills – but on each one I kept pace with a leader or set the pace. The temperature was 46 (8 C) at ride time but warmed to the mid-50s. It was a great day for riding!!

The legs felt good today. Total distance – 44 miles. And I was the first one back. In a nutshell — I felt great.

More importantly, I met another cancer survivor on the ride. I had a nice talk back at the parking lot with David LeMond. And most importantly, although I’ve said it before, I think today I have really turned a corner in my cancer recovery. I hope so. It’s been a long four months.

Note: Oops. Turned off Garmin at Old Annapolis Road and didn’t get it turned back on until Montgomery Ave. (This was a feature of the old Garmin units which did not have auto-pause – the users often paused them, maybe not turned them off – then forget to restart them.)

February 28, 2010July 28, 2021

A Lost Month

WOODBRIDGE, VIRGINIA

As I recover from cancer surgery I finally began to feel strong enough to resume riding. But I didn’t ride at all in February. Until today.

Record snows throughout the month conspired to keep me off the road. Each one one of the scheduled group rides at The Bike Lane in Reston, Va. was canceled.

Yesterday I met up with some of our group in Reston for breakfast. Then today I got out for a neat little 23 mile spin. And it felt great. And I remember now why we wear bike shorts. That padded short sure would have felt good after about 10 miles. Instead I wore wind pants over underwear. Not much padding there but no big deal. I’ve been through worse. Much worse.

The temperature was 38 degrees and windy. I was struggling the first 6-7 miles and couldn’t quite figure out why. I began to curse those hours indoor on the trainer as not helping one bit. And then I turned to the east and my speed picked up, way up, and the winds I had been listening to for 40 minutes suddenly became still. I had been fighting a strong headwind and then picked up a strong tailwind. I love tail winds.

In the afternoon I drove to Charles Town, WV. As I came to a light on Rte 7 between Hamilton and Waterford a group of cyclists approached from the opposite direction. The Evo boys (Evolution Cycling). I had ridden with them last year this time when things were different. I can’t imagine anyone recognized me in the van but all waved as they passed. Maybe they saw the Share the Ride license plate on the van or, more likely, were grateful that I didn’t try to muscle my way past them.

Rockpl – Rockpile – The nickname for Mount Washington, N.H.

Total mileage for the month: 23 miles. Yuck! March will be better. I am hoping to do a repeat of the Hills of Ellicott City next Sunday and have mapped out a ‘Toona Metric Century for April 3 in which 6-7 of us are going to Altoona, Pa. for the day. Sixty miles of climbing and descending and lunch at Panera at 2:00 p.m. Can’t wait!

January 17, 2010August 11, 2022

The Long Road Back

BURKE, VIRGINIA

It has been a long time since I have really been on a bike. About four weeks after cancer surgery I tried the bike but went one block and had to abandon. The sutures were in my lower abdomen and caused tremendous pain when I was bent over. But one week later I tried it again and went about half a mile.

As I began the long road back I soon realized that biking was one activity that I could do. The sitting was excellent for me and the positioning was comfortable. So I set off to ride on Friday, December 19. It was cold — 28° (-2.2℃) — and I only went eight miles but it felt good. But it was cold. I forgot how to dress for cold weather riding.

The next day we were buried under 18″ of snow and all outdoor riding was grounded for a while. Conflicts and weather kept me from riding until today.

In a way it was nothing to brag about but today’s ride was out of the South Run Rec Center along the Fairfax County Parkway down to Occoquan. The total distance was 27.2 miles. The group was supposed to be at a C pace and was.

Still, save for the one eight-mile jaunt, I have done no riding since November 8. So I settled in just determined to make the distance.

It soon became apparent that I would move to the front and be a leader. And it really became obvious when we left Occoquan. The hill up Rte 123 is probably 8% grade for about half a mile. Maybe longer.

As the group started up the hill I put in a high cadence and flew up the hill. I left the entire group struggling behind. I’m not a great climber — just determined — but one must figure if you can be in the middle of the pack at Mount Washington that you can climb okay. Plus, I was probably the youngest in the group.

But the more I rode the stronger I felt. Eventually, I was off the front by myself. And it felt good. The 27 miles are a start on the long road back.

September 6, 2009July 28, 2021

Last Day in the Mountains

My early season riding began with a climb to the top of Blue Knob Ski Resort and included back-to-back weekends in August climbing Horseshoe Curve’s 18% “wall.” It is simply one of my favorite places to ride. But my cancer diagnosis made these mountains even more special. It was here where I could get away from cancer and find peace on my bike.

With Fall approaching and my season hitting the “wall” quicker than when climbing it, I took the opportunity to go to East Freedom, Pa. for one last ride in the mountains as I fully fight this cancer battle.

My ride took me up Pa. Rte 164 to the crossroads at Blue Knob. This was a seven-mile climb with long sections of 8% grade. It is a two-lane road with no shoulder but not heavily traveled either. And every single car gave me a wide berth when passing.

At the summit, I found a taste of New York. Their very own Statue of Liberty. Who knew?

I spotted a sign — “14% grade (next) 7 miles.” It was heaven! Nowhere can I find an equivalent grade to Mount Washington — 7.6 miles at 12% average. But this held promise. At last, a training ground for Mount Washington.

I braced for my descent because 14% can be quite dangerous on a bike. But it wasn’t to be. By my calculation, there may have been a section that was 10% but it didn’t last long. And it soon flattened out. Who makes these road signs anyhow? It was just a tease.

Also by my calculation, and my gut feel on the bike, from Blue Knob to Puzzletown was 4.5 miles at a 5% grade.

From Puzzletown (can anyone figure out what they do there?) I traveled Valley Forge Road and found a sign for a 12% downgrade was close to an actual 12% which led to a 12% climb. Or more. But only for a mile down and a mile back up.

Reaching Old U.S. 22 I had a 5½ mile climb to the summit. For much of the climb, there were two lanes upward, divided, which meant that cars could easily move to the left lane to avoid getting too close to me. I rode on the right side of the white line but for a long stretch, there was very little shoulder. Yet more often than not cars gave me no berth and two idiots honked their horns at me like there was somewhere I could go. Into the woods, perhaps.

For about 30 minutes my mind was playing games trying to analyze why most drivers on a two-lane road would give me wide berth and cross into the oncoming lane and these drivers wouldn’t move over to the empty lane that was going in the same direction. Old US 22 would be used mostly by locals — locals who may believe it was faster and should remain faster than getting on the new US 22. Locals who believe the road belongs just to them. I just don’t know. Maybe people are jerks. A revelation.

I never visited the Allegheny Portage Railroad Historic Site and always wanted to. And today I could. I am always intrigued by old-time engineering marvels and this was one of them.

Allegheny Portage Railroad – Lemon House

Operating from 1834 to 1854 it was built to carry barges from Johnstown to Hollidaysburg which connected river traffic between the Ohio and Susquehanna Rivers. It consisted of 10 inclined planes (think of the Inclined Plane in Johnstown or the Duquesne or Monongahela inclines in Pittsburgh).

Allegheny Portage Railroad – Incline Number 6

At the summit I was looking for a road over to Gallitzin but never found one. I saw a truck with U.S. Government Plates and stopped it and asked for directions to Tunnelhill. When I balked at the park ranger’s first suggestion, riding on U.S. 22, she told me to cut through the Allegheny Portage Railroad Park. Even though it was gated, she assured me that I could and I was surprised at the site and delighted in that it did take me to Tunnelhill Street.

I was glad I did. I would have never seen the Lemon house, other than from the road, or the tracks of Incline Number 6.

In Gallitzin, I met a local who encouraged me to go to the Gallitzin tunnels. He didn’t tell me the road to them was straight down. But it was. One can stand on a bridge and see the trains coming through the mountain. I wonder what’s it’s like to live above the tunnel?

The climb back up to Tunnelhill Street was a neat 14-16% grade. But at 27 miles, that would be the last real climbing of the day.

From Gallitzin, it was a straight shot down Horseshoe Curve Road (Glenwhite Road) past the famous landmark and three reservoirs.

I’m not complaining because every ride up Horseshoe Curve is a good ride but who the heck thought of a process called chip and tar? The descent down to Horseshoe Curve can be screaming, especially when coming down off The Wall but the upper portion of this road had recently been chipped. Or tarred. Maybe just chipped. Without tar.

A 4-mile climb to the summit, sections of 18% grade and a 200′ tunnel. Life doesn’t get any better than this.

There were no line markings. Descending was tricky because with the loose gravel, er, I mean “chips,” one could easily slide out. Once I got to the good pavement I could let it roll.

Because of mine drainage, there are channels to keep the acid water out of the reservoirs

The rest of the ride was simple exploring as was all but the Gallitzin to Horseshoe Curve portion. I wrote down some simple directions and followed those but was unsure when I was in Hollidaysburg where I should travel to next. There was a service station with a store and I needed to replenish my water.

I walked into the convenience store and it reeked of cigarette smoke. All I could see was shelves of cigarettes and chewing tobacco. I turned to the sales clerk and asked “do you sell anything healthy in here?” I’m a jerk.

When she asked what I meant I simply asked for water. Outside was a visibly pregnant mother smoking, waiting with the dog while her husband bought more cigarettes. I wanted to scream at her “GIVE YOUR CHILD A CHANCE!” But would good would have it done? I am reminded that this is still Appalachia and a cyclist with shaved legs wearing Lycra is the stranger here.

Actually a very steep portion of Glenwhite Road

I will miss riding in Altoona. Each of my trips involved meeting special people. On the first, I met John Griffin who lives in a house where I lived 50 years ago. He invited me in. On the second and third I met and rode with riders from Spo kes and Skis — Joel, Richard, Bryan, and Stacey. Also there was Stephanie from Panera. And today I had a park employee let me cut through the park, a local send me to the tunnels, and two others point me in the right direction when I was unsure. Really unsure.

I’m afraid this is the end for a while. I have hit the wall.

August 30, 2009August 10, 2021

A Tale of Two Jerseys

THE PLAINS, VIRGINIA

The jersey one wears on a club ride can make all the difference in the world. My favorite jersey is my Amgen Tour of California Breakaway From Cancer jersey. But it brings a different look or reaction from other riders than do some of my other jerseys.

I have a jersey from Newton’s Revenge, the July version of the bicycle race up Mount Washington. But few cyclists know of Newton’s Revenge and only astute riders figure out what that jersey is from. But not so the jersey from the Mount Washington Auto Road Bicycle Hillclimb (MWARBH). It is emblazoned with the words Mount Washington.

So, I can summarize the difference between the jerseys as to what other riders see. First the Breakaway From Cancer jersey:

“Ooo. I wonder what that jersey means? Oh, I think that rider has cancer. I better keep away from him. I certainly don’t want to ask. That would be rude. Poor guy, he’s already losing the hair on his legs. Heck, I can take him!”

The Mount Washington Auto Road Bicycle Hillclimb jersey:

“Hey, that guy has a Mount Washington jersey. He must be strong. And looks, he shaves his leg too. I don’t think I can stay with him.”

And that’s it. Lots of people want to ask me about Mount Washington. No one wants to ask me about cancer.

Today’s ride was a bit strange. A “CC” ride, many of the 50-60 riders were older (you know, my age) or packing on a few extra pounds. From the start, I was out in front, and as usual with these group rides, I had no cue sheet. I sat in and followed a Clydesdale* for a while until it was just the two of us.

I told him I would love to share the work at the front but he’d have to help me with the turns (directions). We stayed together for 2-3 more miles until we came to a short but steep climb. I tore right up the hill and dropped him. I was content to slow at the top and wait but there was a nice descent coming up so I bombed it and missed the turn at the bottom. Oh well.

He told me that climbing wasn’t his specialty. I told him it wasn’t my specialty either but that I enjoy it the most.

Eventually, after another wrong turn and doubling back, 10 of us came together and for those who had cue sheets, all had problems determining which way to go. So we made it up.

I took my turns pulling the group and when I let someone move to the front I stayed on their wheel. At Airmont, the psychological games began even though this was a ride and not a race.

Six of us started together on the rollers of Snickersville Turnpike. After the first climb, there were two of us as there would be for the next 11 miles. At times I thought the hairy-legged monster might get the best of me but the last big climb on Snickersville I blew past him. I did wait at the top in part because I had no clue as to where I was going.

We took turns pulling and there were times that I wanted to say “go ahead, you’re stronger today.” And he was probably thinking “oh my God, I’m trying to stay with a guy who just biked up Mount Washington.”

We had talked and I knew at Middleburg to turn and it would be a straight run-in back to The Plains. I didn’t know how far it was though. We made the turn and my companion just blew up. He was still pedaling but just slowed to a crawl. I kept going. In fact, I lifted the pace.

I think after a few hundred yards he gave up trying to bridge back to me. I was feeling good and at each hill, and there were lots of them, I lifted the pace and hammered it. I only looked back once.

I was a little worried that the other four riders would catch the guy I dropped and they would organize a “chase” — not that this was a race. But one thing about today’s group — they wouldn’t know how to chase. It works if everyone is willing to go to the front and take turns doing the work but with this group, almost everyone wanted to sit in where they could use 30% less energy than by taking pulls. Not today.

I hammered the last eight miles solo, never looked back, and arrived 3-4 minutes ahead of the nearest riders.

If I had worn my Breakaway From Cancer jersey they would have stayed with me.

*A Clydesdale is a heaver rider, generally 190 lbs or more

August 23, 2009July 25, 2023

LIVESTRONG Challenge – Philly 09

KING OF PRUSSIA, PENNSYLVANIA

The climb up Mount Washington is an accomplishment of personal achievement of one story to be told. Riding in the LIVESTRONG Challenge-Philly was a much different accomplishment. Here there are 6,500 stories to be told.

There’s a real sense one can beat anything by reaching the summit on Mount Washington. Likewise, there’s a real sense that one can beat anything by seeing 6,500 people come together and raise $3.2 million for cancer ~~research and~~ education and support.

At check-in, the volunteer, in a long table of volunteers, opened her notebook and saw my fundraising total — then more than $2,800 although it grew to more than $3,000 by the time I had left the table. She yelled out my name and announced how much money I raised for Livestrong. Everyone in the tent cheered.

Bikes at Landis Store – Livestrong Philly 09

Because the checks that I carried had not yet been credited to my account, my total went to $3,050. And $3,000 was the threshold for an invitation to the LIVESTRONG recognition dinner to be held at 6:30 p.m. I thought “a dinner’s a dinner” and wasn’t going to attend. Even less so when I was told the dress was business casual. I was wearing shorts and a T-shirt — a LIVESTRONG T-shirt to be sure, but still, shorts and a T-shirt. And that was all I had brought with me.

The volunteers told me that I must attend and so I did. Ninety minutes later I found myself being served H’ors devours by black-tie waiters to me in my shorts and T-shirt. There weren’t many people by themselves — most had family members with them. I was a little lost and found myself standing next to a bald man — about 30. I saw his name tag. It was Ethan Zohn — winner of Survivor-Africa.

Lance Armstrong could not attend as he was racing the Tour of Ireland. He did send a video message and asked Ethan to be the keynote speaker.

Everyone has a story. Lance’s personal friend, John “College” Korioth, kicked off the evening with many stories about Lance. I won’t do any of them justice but will try this one.

After Lance’s surgery, they decided they would fight cancer. It began with fundraising and they set off to raise $25,000.

“Hello. I’m raising money for the Lance Armstrong Foundation.

“You know, he’s the cyclist that had the surgeries for cancer. He rode in the Olympics.

“No, that would be Scott Hamilton.

“Well, he lost a testicle to cancer.

“No, that would be the Phillies’ first-baseman, John Kruk.”

And here, College smiled and said, ‘Lance hates this next part.’

“No, he’s a cyclist. Like Greg LeMond. Only he’s never won the Tour de France.” And that was the beginning.

Elden Nelson, blogs on FatCyclist.com. I would say there were 30 people or so that raised at least $3,000 for LIVESTRONG-Philly even though there were a couple hundred people in attendance. Many people were part of his team, FatCyclist. He has a national following which helped Team Fatty raise more than $250,000 for the Philly event and for the three Livestrong events so far this year — more than $625,000.

College spoke, then Eldon, then Ethan. The night was running late and I had to get back to the hotel, decorate my shirt, and get up at 5:00 a.m. Regrettably, I had to leave before the event was over.

A better account of the evening’s activities is at http://gameoncancer.wordpress.com/2009/08/23/livestrong-challenge-eve-part-2-of-2/

A sign to make, break, or challenge riders up to Landis Store – Livestrong Philly 09

Morning came much too soon. A quick breakfast and I was off to the event. There was a three-mile backup on Germantown Road to Montgomery County Community College and I was creeping. I was in it at 6:45 and by 7:20 was still 1.5 miles from the event start. So I drove into a residential section, parked, and biked in, getting there just before the 7:30 start. And learned the start had been pushed back to 8:00 a.m.

At the start were queues for the various distances. Ten, 20, 45, 70, and 100-mile rides were offered. Many riders wore a LIVESTRONG jersey, at times it seemed that almost half wore the black and yellow. I chose to go with my Amgen Breakaway From Cancer jersey. I received a number of compliments on it and saw no one the entire day with a similar jersey. I love being unique.

Posing with the Devil – Livestrong Philly 09

As group winners, Fat Cyclist riders were allowed to go first. Imagine starting a century ride with a group of fat riders in front. Actually, while they had some portly riders, many are drawn to this group because of their mission and not because they are overweight.

I don’t know the exact numbers but think nearly 1,000 riders started out with the 100-mile ride and we were the first group to roll out. Still, it took 10-15 minutes from my middle-of-the-pack position to make my way to the start line.

The first 20 miles were spent just sorting things out. Letting the slower riders drop back and getting the faster riders to the front. In my haste to park and get to the start line, I left all my food in my van. Still, I rolled past the first two rest stops to try to get closer to the front group of riders.

As the route rolled through the countryside, signs greeted us alongside the road and people came out of their houses to cheer. And high-five. I probably slapped the hands of 20 people standing along the route including the Devil himself. Maybe he was drawn to my bike number still on the bike from Mount Washington which was 667. Well, in handing out numbers for Mount Washington they were in sequence to 665 then skipped 666 to give me 667. I know I had 666 no matter what was on my bike. And I guess he did too.

I stopped at rest areas 3-6 and even an impromptu water break before rest stop 6. The rest areas were 10-12 miles apart and I drank two bottles of water and/or bad Gatorade between every rest stop. The temperature was in the mid to high 80s. (30º C)

Rest stop 6 – Landis Store – Livestrong Philly 09

The 100 and 70-mile routes used the same course with the 70-mile route taking a shortcut to the return. A 30-mile shortcut. Although they started behind us, eventually they got in front of us and we began catching them in the last 30 miles.

A number of riders were walking. The course was challenging for many. For some, they had never done a 70-mile ride before. And they had the right cause to do it. And the same with the 100-mile ride. Who cares if they had to walk long stretches of hills? They were challenging themselves like never before for a great cause.

Eventually one begins to see the same riders and I found myself in contact with a few. A couple of riders asked about my jersey and really admired it.

As I rode I talked with some riders including such minutia as the meaning of the race bib numbers. I was shocked when I got my race bib — number 60. I was expecting a number like everyone else seemed to have — 3898. I certainly wasn’t the 60th person to register. Probably more like the 3,898th.

But on the form, one must check the reason why they are riding and the first box is “I have or have had cancer.” We surmised the low bib numbers were for the survivors. And I think we were right.

As I rolled to the finish I found myself next to a young lady named Amy from Providence, Rhode Island. This was her second century and both were here. And she warned me — at the finish, survivors enter the barriers to the right while supporters enter to the left. We came riding in together and she went to the left side and I went right. As I came to the finish people cheered and a volunteer held out a yellow rose which I took. Actually, I sort of went flying by and grabbed the outstretched rose so they couldn’t see the tears in my eyes under my glasses.

It’s not a normal ride. There are 6,000 stories, every one different. But at the finish, the rose was a reminder not that I’m a survivor but that I have a longer road ahead.