Virginia - peaceonabike

June 24, 2012August 26, 2021

A Double Triple

CHARLES TOWN, WEST VIRGINIA

After being struck by a car I wanted to go home yesterday but ended up getting a wheel repair at the local Trek bike store in Charles Town. At no charge. That always helps.

The newly trued wheel rolled well and I was thankful for the coolness of the morning air to ride. But I also thought of the bike and remembered that a carbon fiber bike must be checked out before being ridden again after a crash. While I was thankful the local Trek store fixed my wheel I wish the mechanic would have asked to check out the bike. I was in no frame of mind to think to ask him to do that.

Trek mechanic onsite checking out the Pilot

Arriving in Berryville, I found the on-site Trek mechanic who checked out the bike and was able to reposition the shifters. He gave the bike a clean bill of health. More importantly, he gave me peace of mind.

Since the mechanic took time checking the bike, it felt as though I was the last to leave Berryville. As I rode I began to catch and pass everyone. It would be one of those days where I would pass everyone and not get passed. Period.

After making my way through the first group of riders I passed five riders stopped along the side of the road, all supervising some poor schmuck trying to fix his bike. I asked if they needed one more person to watch and they said yes. So I stopped. Poor guy had a broken chain and other than making a phone call (for SAG support), I couldn’t help, but by then all those slow, old (my age) people came rolling by so I let them pass then worked my way through them again.

When I passed a rider named Karen, she jumped on my wheel and followed me. She announced her presence and stated that I was the right speed to follow. And she did. For a while. Then she admitted I was too fast but I backed it off and we rode together and picked up some other riders as well.

At Rest Stop Number 1 in Rippon, I saw a family with young children in cycling gear. How cute. As they were getting ready to leave I talked to them. I told them I saw a family down at River Ride on the Northern Neck about five years ago who had a triple Co-Motion bike with dad and two daughters on it while the mother pulled a — “Burley Trailer,” everyone pretty much said in unison.

“That was us,” replied the mom. The family is from Front Royal, Virginia.

My memory of that day on the Northern Neck was seeing this extremely cute family pull in at the end of the ride. The youngest girl was sound asleep — head over folded arms on the handlebars — with her feet clipped into the pedals going in circles.

The oldest daughter said “yep, that was Kylie. She can do that”*

But now there were six. They’ve added to their cycling family. Three on dad’s bike and three on mom’s. How very cute. A double triple.

They left the rest stop before I did and although I caught them on Kabletown Road, I didn’t see them the rest of the day. Hopefully I will see them again.

The route would zigzag around Charles Town on some of the roads I had ridden down to Berryville to the start. I was almost getting dizzy going in a circle. Like yesterday, my cousin, Kay Walborn, started earlier than I could, and from Berryville.

Although this was billed as a recreational touring ride and not a place for pace lines, occasional lines formed and it was fun riding just a little faster with other people. Or a lot faster than other people. I had missed out on that yesterday except for the first 10 miles or so when I had jumped in with a group of four.

But today I rode with a woman and her dad for a while, and also with Paul from Allentown, Pa., plus Karen from Ashville, N.C. At the lunch stop around Mile 48 (my mile 68) I had caught my cousin, Kay Walborn, and we then rode together the optional 20-mile loop. Near the end of the ride, I was ahead of Kay and her friend, Wanda, on Job Corps Road, when I was left shaken.

While descending a hill, I was doing about 30 mph and was hugging the white line at the edge of the road. There was no shoulder. Then I heard it. A large diesel pickup truck was barreling down on me and wanting to pass. But there was an oncoming car and hardly room for the three of us. He gunned it.

I was over as far as I could get and the truck passed within inches. Kay told me that the truck missed my head by two inches. What is it? Two accidents in two days?

When we finished I had 90 miles so it was easy to get 100 before going back to Bethany’s.

Two Days. Two Centuries.

___
*I’m not sure of the daughter’s name – but let’s go with Kylie.

June 23, 2012August 26, 2021

Struck by a Car

The day started with promise. Attending Bike Virginia, I rode 20 miles from Charles Town to the event’s registration in Berryville, Va.

Once on the road, I reset my odometer so as not to remind myself that I had ridden 20 miles farther than anyone else. And it worked.

I was surprised that at a park and swimming pool rest stop at Mile 80 near Winchester I ran into my friend Vince Amodeo. I had been chasing my cousin, Kay Walborn, for these 80 miles and had given up finding her.

I said goodbye to Vince and sat down to text Kay. We had been texting at each rest stop and I had no idea I was close. My legs felt like it was 80 miles, not 100, and then I heard her call my name. I had caught her. What a nice surprise. We rolled out together and rode together for just six miles before I broke from the route and headed back to Charles Town.

In Charles Town, as I came up Washington Street, a car started to overtake me at an intersection. This is a common occurrence and I didn’t think much of it. As I went straight the driver got just far enough in front of me then she whipped the car to the right and made a right turn. Into me. The classic right hook.

I tried to evade her by turning sharper but I couldn’t. She hit me and sent me flying.

I remember nothing after being contacted by her car until I was on the ground. My shoulders and back seemed to take the worst of it and I lay on the street in pain with my bike on top of me, still clipped into the left pedal.

I had ridden 115 miles, my farthest ever, and combined with the heat, 86º, and the effort to get up the rise before the intersection, I was breathing heavy. Laying on my back I was afraid to open my eyes. I was scared.

I was breathing very heavily and heard the woman who hit me scream at me. “DIDN’T YOU SEE MY SIGNAL!!!” “DIDN’T YOU SEE MY SIGNAL!!!”

I paid her no attention and within another minute a passerby stopped her car and came to my assistance. If I had any idea of getting to my feet she made sure that I was to remain immobile. In fact, she held me around my shoulders so I wouldn’t move. And I was too weak to fight.

Another passerby tried to unclip my shoes. And in the moment, I could not remember how to release them. I was afraid they were going to cut them off. Not my Louis Garneaus!

An ambulance arrived pretty quickly followed by the police and then a firetruck. As the paramedics attended to me the woman who had been attending, also a paramedic, introduced herself to them. I was holding the back of my leg, not because I was injured but because the position I was in, combined with riding 115 miles in the heat, was causing me to cramp.

She told the paramedic crew that I was cramping because I had ridden 15 miles. “115 miles,” I corrected her, and I threw water on her.

They extricated me from my bike (is that a thing?) and moved it next to a building. They helped me to my feet then checked my vitals, checking to see if I was dizzy. I could move everything but was sore from the crash. I had some road rash but it wasn’t bad. I refused a trip to the emergency room in the ambulance.

My handlebar tape was torn and the shifters were out of place. I was able to forcibly realign one mostly. Against the wishes of, well, everyone there, I decided I would keep on riding.
As I got close to Bethany’s I noticed the front wheel was wobbling. More damage that I hadn’t seen.

I was shaken up and really just wanted to go home. I just wanted to end my five-day Bike Virginia trip after one day.

I set a new personal best for miles ridden in one day: 119.2, and would have gone farther except for the crash. But my bike and I were sore and beat up.

Bethany reminded me that there was a bike store in Charles Town and I took my bike there. It was Three Points Cycle and the manager/owner on duty couldn’t be nicer. He looked at me, still walking in a daze, listened to my story, and told me he grew up in Woodbridge. He attended Gar-Field H.S. He took my front wheel and trued it. No charge. I started feeling better.

But I was still shaken.

It sucks to get hit by a car.

The driver was not charged.

November 20, 2011September 5, 2020

A Perfect Fall Day for a Ride

THE PLAINS, VIRGINIA

With a forecast of 68° (it didn’t materialize but it did get to 62°) it was a perfect day to ignore the leaves piling up in the lawn and go for a ride.

I found a “CC” ride and decided I would jump in. But I arrived at 9:58 a.m. and decided not to rush but just leave on my schedule although the group was rolling out at 10:00 a.m.

There is something about pulling up with license plate marked UPDHEZ and wearing a jersey from Alpe d’Huez. It’s like a target on my back — I am expected to be better than anyone else.

ALPDHZ was taken so I got this plate to commemorate climbing L’Alpe d’Huez. Intimidating, huh?

As the group rolled out there was one other person who was getting ready. He looked at me and said “You don’t look like you’ll have any problem catching the group. Yea, a big ego stroke. So I waited for him to get ready.

We were “wheels down” at 10:10 a.m. We rode at a sensible pace — never hammering it to catch the group because we knew with our pace we would catch them. And we did just 7.5 miles into the ride. But the group was already strung out so we rode through the group, overtaking 10-12 more riders, one each at a time.

Like many group rides, we’re not much on formality. I never did catch the name of the guy I rode with. You never know if you’re going to ride with someone for 10 minutes or 10 miles.
At times as we rode I thought he might drop me then other times I was stronger, but as we approached Aldie I did pull away. For good.

At the Aldie rest stop, I was anxious to keep moving. I’m not a fan of rest stops unless it’s 100° and the lower level the ride the longer the rest stops are and just drag on. As soon as the first three guys left I jumped in and joined them. Greg, Adam, and John. The guy I first rode with was still resting. (I only know these guys names because they asked me mine with about five miles to go after we had ridden together for 30 miles.)

They had been riding together for the first 15 miles and I jumped in without a word. I sort of had to prove that I belonged. I stayed with them until the next hill and then took off. First up the hill. Then I soft-pedaled. I belonged.

After the rest stop at Atoka, and I tried to convince them not to stop, I set the pace for the next two miles. Then I quietly pulled off and moved to the back. Without a word, they were all experienced enough to recognize that we should ride in a paceline with each rider taking turns at the front.

And we did. My last two pulls ended up with me pulling away so I simply backed off the pace. I never thought of hammering home solo today although I knew I could pull away by myself.

This is horse country, lots of money here, and I saw deer running through the woods and jumping over the fences. So graceful. So beautiful. And I thought how differently I see them from some of my Facebook friends who see them only as a target.

Near the end, we were adjacent to Great Meadows at The Plains, Va., home of the Gold Cup races. It was a beautiful four miles back to start. We passed a farm stand with fresh produce and apple cider. It is definitely Fall in Virginia.

As we pulled back into town I went to the front, but not attacking and being a jerk, just enough so I could say “last to start, first to finish.” I had no problem with the pace today — we rode at a BB clip and may have been one of the last good days of the year for a long ride.

I left the parking lot, then stopped by the farm stand and bought their two remaining jugs of cider. I love riding. I love Fall. I love cider.

Distance: 50.8 miles
Average Speed: 16.1 mph

September 24, 2011August 24, 2021

Alpine Gran Fondo

This was two events in one. Or at least that was my expectation. It was the inaugural Jeremiah Bishop’s Alpine Gran Fondo and a fundraiser for the Prostate Cancer Awareness Project. The cycling event was pretty neat. The fundraising portion was disappointing.

First the cycling.

Jeremiah Bishop told me last night that he planned to call all the fundraisers upfront for the rollout. However, when we started, he got in position behind the police car and he called for bib numbers 1-15 to join him. Instead, a number of jerks simply move to the front. So most top fundraisers were pushed aside. Maybe they didn’t hear? I had Bib #3.

We rolled out and I was quickly in about 10th position. I think for at least the Gran Fondo riders (there were two other routes as well) we stayed together as a peloton for the first 11 miles. Once we got on US 33 the pace picked up or I started to drop back. Doesn’t matter. I was wearing four bibs on my back, the only person to honor or remember those fighting cancer, and I decided that no one would see them if I stayed in 10th position. So I drifted back.

Although not a race, we had two timed King of the Mountain climbs. The first one was on US33 and the peloton sped up as we approached the start of the climb then abruptly slowed down to make sure their timing chips were read. I stayed in the back. I was the last to go through although I think at this point we had a major split in the peloton and I foolishly had been hanging with the first group led out by Jeremiah Bishop.

The climb on the lower slopes of 33 was pretty easy but I thought I would catch and pass someone. Anyone. Nope, no one. Then about halfway up the climb some riders from the second group began to catch and pass me. In all, I was probably passed by 20 riders and passed no one. Nada. It’s the first time on a climb with other riders I don’t remember catching anyone. That’s what I get for hanging at the front.

View of West Virginia from the top of US 33

After a screaming descent where I caught some other riders, followed by a brief rest stop, we rolled out to our next turn and this warning sign: “Gravel.” If only it had just been gravel. It was a mud road. The GPS quickly registered 12% and I tried to find a line where I could sit and pedal. I made it up the first mile and a half then saw everybody ahead had dismounted and were pushing their bikes. The GPS registered 25%. I was determined to pass them all. Until all I did was spin. Then I joined them.

I thought I could go where no one had gone before but it was the wise decision to dismount before I fell. It would be fun to tackle this section on a day the road was dry.

I was wise enough to have brought cleat covers which I used while walking in the mud and dirt. Others weren’t so lucky as they reached the top of the climb and found their cleats wouldn’t clip in because of the grit.

Part of the mud climb. This section was good enough to ride.

The profile of the route shows four major climbs. The first, basically the first 23 miles, was on US 33 and had good pavement. The second, around mile 34, was the mud section. All of it. The third section, around mile 47, was on paved roads coming out of Franklin. The fourth, mile 62, was all dirt. Again.

Summit of the first dirt (mud) section. Lots of people walking.

Leaving the rest area at Franklin, West Virginia, was a short climb where I was passed by four riders. I was getting passed by everybody and had no response. It may have been my nutrition. Or just my suckage. I planned to take some gels, one for every 15 miles but left them in the van. Damn.

At the top of the climb coming out of Franklin, I summited then hit a four-mile descent. I took off and passed a couple of riders. My descending was excellent today. Then a six-mile climb began. And a partial transformation. About halfway up three men and a woman caught me. I stayed with them for half a mile then dropped off.

Riding by myself I was caught by Jim Mortson. Although he should have dropped me he either eased up or I picked it up but we rode together. About one mile from the top we passed the woman who had been dropped from their group. Then near the top in a 13-14% section, we passed the three men. All walking! I mentioned to them the story of the tortoise and the hair. Fear the Turtle! I hope they weren’t offended.

Jim and I rode to the rest stop at Moyers Gap Road. When we left there were five of us soft pedaling as the road turned to dirt. Unlike the first climb, this road wasn’t mud and one could ride it without spinning out. This was the road up to Reddish Knob.

There were a couple of cones off to the side of the road and a sign “KOM Start.” The King of the Mountain competition. We all kept pedaling. No attacks. Nothing hard. Someone mentioned they’d see us at the top.

I was the oldest of the five and had just been hanging with Jim and had no expectation of staying with him. As we climbed higher the road went from dirt to rocks. Not the loose rocks or heavy gravel but the rocks that were simply part of the road perhaps when the road was grated years ago they were just sheered off. Trying to find a line to ride without running over rocks was impossible.

One guy dropped behind us while two went ahead. Jim and I kept pedaling. I had no idea of the length and it was hard to judge from the trees. Each time I looked up I could see daylight through the trees and thought I was near the summit. I wasn’t. The two guys in front of us pulled over, the relentless climb getting to them.

Jim and I stayed together although at perhaps two miles from the summit he dropped behind me. I never looked back to see where he was.

Summit at Reddish Knob. End of the Dirt Road.

The road was tough to pedal and many times the grade was 11 and 12%. But it wasn’t a 12% average like Mount Washington. I calculated it to be an average 8.1% which is pretty formidable, especially with that road surface.

I continued on alone just wondering where the summit was. And I felt that I was getting stronger. Having already dropped everyone in my group (after believing it would be me who got dropped) I soon caught one of the riders who left the rest stop five minutes before we did. I continued on and the road started to flatten out with 1K to go. I picked up my speed and blew by a rider trying to sprint my way to the finish line although I knew I had no hope of an age group podium.

I went from feeling crappy to passing everyone I rode with. I could have continued on but waited for Jim to come over the top. He was five minutes back of me.

What was most refreshing was there was no cramping. Often at mile 50 or 60 if I have a long climb the “cramp monster” finds me. Today I felt good. And with Mount Washington type grades I did not have Mount Washington type gearing – just my normal gearing.

The descent was foggy and a little chilly but nothing like France prepared me for in July. Again I bombed it then waited to ride with Jim.

I gave up five minutes waiting at the summit and after the last rest stop maybe as much as 20 minutes more sweeping, waiting for a rider battling asthma. It’s not about the time of the ride – it’s just a ride – and there’s no way I was going to leave a struggling rider behind. Besides, I accomplished what I wanted to.

Having dropped all the climbers in my group on Reddish Knob I was feeling good. We hit some pretty steep rollers and I had drifted to the back to help our struggling rider. Then I made my way up the climb, catching and passing everyone in my group. One guy said, “I hate you.” I smiled. With that, I soft-pedaled then let them go and dropped back to sweep.

I didn’t post a great time but I enjoyed the ride. I didn’t understand the KOM was cumulative with two climbs and took my time on the first one – 14th out of 14 in my age group. On the second climb, I was 8th out of 14.

On the day I say it was 10% fun, 90% suffering and 100% satisfying.

Barry and Jeremiah
Source: Alpine Loop Gran Fondo Facebook Page

Now the fundraising.

My expectation was this was a cycling event/fundraiser which ultimately turned into a neat cycling event. Jeremiah talked of recognizing the fundraising teams but none was made. I spoke briefly with Robert Hess, the founder and president of PCAP after the event and shared with him better ways to improve participation and to get the message out. I think I was the top fundraiser with $1,000.29 but will never know. The 29 cents paying homage to the organization 29,000men.org.

Donating to this event was complicated compared to the sites at LIVESTRONG, Team in Training, and the MS Society. There, people can search for a participant and donate in their name. Their apps show the top fundraiser giving incentive to others chasing to recruit more donations. Donors like to see their names in the scroll. And maybe more importantly, while waiting at the finish for official results, the top fundraisers could have recognized, perhaps with prizes for certain thresholds.

I took all their Blue Ribbon cookies. Was that wrong?

This was a first-time event and they look forward to doing it again. Hard to improve on the awesome cycling but maybe they can improve the fundraising.

September 17, 2011August 12, 2021

A Rough Rappahannock Ride

WASHINGTON, VIRGINIA

In the end, it was a rough day. It was a small group that attended this event perhaps kept away by cool, wet weather. The temperature was in the high 50s and there was rain on the first part of the route.

Of the three routes on the Rappahannock Rough Ride, the 60-mile ride being the longest, riders were loosely lined up at the start with the longer distance riders at the front. When we rolled out there was a group of four, me, then perhaps 10-12 more riders.

The group of four was about 200 meters in front of me for the first half mile or so and I decided to bridge up to them. That worked well. A group of five. In the first 4-5 miles I pulled a lot then moved over to sit back. We stayed together although the shark’s teeth profile was challenging — just a series of ups and downs, nothing too long, just short steep climbs.

After averaging almost 19 mph for the first 15 miles I lost contact with my group on one of the hills and was caught by eight other riders. They went by me too.

Then in the next mile, I caught and passed them and joined up with my original group. Strange how this happened. I didn’t turn myself inside out to get back up to the front. Just riding at my pace, so I thought, I rejoined them. The body reacts so strangely sometimes.

We stopped at rest stop one (of two) and got soaked from the steady rain.

Ready to roll, I headed out on my own and thought I rode 20 miles without seeing another rider, front or back. I knew I was on course because of the road markings, the occasional volunteer I’d see at an intersection, and my GPS had been uploaded with the course from last year.

Near Hume, I stopped to take a picture of a house I’d like to own and was passed by four riders who had probably been gaining on me the entire time.

After the Marriott Ranch rest stop, it seemed a number of us rolled out together although on the first hill my chain came off the inner ring, and turning around to pedal it back into place was enough to make me lose contact. I soloed home after that.

I was tired and sore and just not feeling the same as I did last year. I checked my Garmin stats and confirmed, I was slower than last year. A lot. Riding time last year was 3:20 while this year it was 3:40 despite riding the first third of the course at almost 20 mph. Maybe I went out too fast. I did go out fast.

This was the fifth timed course that I rode this year that I could compare to last year. Beginning with SkyMass in the spring, then the Air Force Crystal Ride, Mount Washington Auto Road Hillclimb, then the Civil War Century, I have been slower on each and every event.

I can understand being slower on one or two but not all five. This is very discouraging. Father Time knows where I live and has found me.

\</p> <p>Must have been operator error. Missing the first 1.8 miles of the route or another seven minutes of riding.</p> <p></p> </div> </article> <article id="post-572" class="post-572 post type-post status-publish format-standard has-post-thumbnail hentry category-virginia category-west-virginia tag-blue-ridge-ramble tag-blue-ridger tag-charles-town tag-marshall"> <header class="entry-header"> <div class="entry-meta"><span class="screen-reader-text">Posted on</span> <a href="https://peaceonabike.com/different-fathers-day-ride/" rel="bookmark"><time class="entry-date published" datetime="2011-06-20T00:00:00-04:00">June 20, 2011</time><time class="updated" datetime="2020-09-15T11:43:59-04:00">September 15, 2020</time></a></div><h2 class="entry-title"><a href="https://peaceonabike.com/different-fathers-day-ride/" rel="bookmark">A Different Father’s Day Ride</a></h2> </header> <div class="post-thumbnail"> <a href="https://peaceonabike.com/different-fathers-day-ride/"> <img width="320" height="240" src="https://peaceonabike.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/100_3662.jpg" class="attachment-twentyseventeen-featured-image size-twentyseventeen-featured-image wp-post-image" alt="" decoding="async" loading="lazy" srcset="https://peaceonabike.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/100_3662.jpg 320w, https://peaceonabike.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/100_3662-300x225.jpg 300w" sizes="(max-width: 767px) 89vw, (max-width: 1000px) 54vw, (max-width: 1071px) 543px, 580px" /> </a> </div> <div class="entry-content"> <p>MARSHALL, VIRGINIA</p> <p>Two years ago I set out from Woodbridge to ride to Charles Town for Fathers’ Day. Dark clouds were in the air and the metaphor was obvious. </p> <p>Today there were dark clouds, and even a little rain, but no metaphors. </p> <p>There was a Potomac Pedalers “CC” ride out of Marshall, <em>the Blue Ridger, </em>and I first thought that I would drive to Marshall and ride with them to Rte 7 and then break off and head to Charles Town. But the more I thought about it the more I knew I didn’t want to join them. </p> <p>Their route would be in the traditional counter-clockwise direction which means they would put in 25 miles before they do any climbs. I wanted to climb Naked Mountain and Mount Weather. </p> <p>I watched them take off at 8:40 a.m. and I was on the road six minutes later. In the opposite direction. My route choice would let me do the climbs. </p> <p>It’s been a while since I climbed Naked Mountain in this direction. It kicks up to 17% on this grade. From Markham it’s a 3.5-mile climb to the top and from Rte 17 at Paris, it’s a five-mile grind to the high point on Mount Weather. </p> <p>My descent to Rte 7 got me to 47 mph. I could have gone faster but had to stop at the bottom of the hill. This is also where I met the Potomac Pedalers group. I left six minutes later and traveled 30 miles and climbed two mountains including 8.5 miles of climbing on two slopes in the time they went 25 miles and had no climbs. That was a slow ride and one I was glad not to be a part of.</p> <p>And to be fair, they may have had a 20-minute rest break at the general store in Bluemont. I’m not a fan of long stops either.</p> <p>At Rte. 7 I turned left (west) and headed down to the Shenandoah River. Following a new route, I took Shepherd’s Grade Rd to Wycliffe then Kabletown, before finding Old Cave Road. </p> <p>I never unclipped or put a foot down for 50 miles from the start until I got within a mile of Ashley’s place. At a railroad crossing that was blocked for repairs, I had to walk my bike over the tracks.</p> <figure class="wp-block-image size-large"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" width="844" height="633" src="https://peaceonabike.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/Old-Cave.jpeg" alt="" class="wp-image-6724" srcset="https://peaceonabike.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/Old-Cave.jpeg 844w, https://peaceonabike.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/Old-Cave-300x225.jpeg 300w, https://peaceonabike.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/Old-Cave-768x576.jpeg 768w" sizes="(max-width: 767px) 89vw, (max-width: 1000px) 54vw, (max-width: 1071px) 543px, 580px" /><figcaption>Old Cave Rd., Charles Town, WV</figcaption></figure> <p>The uncertainty of what lies ahead weighed deeply on my mind two years ago. Today I thought of my life as a survivor. A much different Fathers’ Day ride.</p> <p><iframe loading="lazy" src="http://ridewithgps.com/trips/285782/embed" width="100%" height="500px" frameborder="0">

June 12, 2011August 13, 2021

Air Force Crystal Ride

ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA

I’m not sure if I would have come back to the Air Force Cycling Classic had not Adam Lewandowski put out a call to The Bike Lane group to ride it together. So I decided I would come back even after not quite forgiving them for only crediting me with two laps last year instead of the eight that I had done.

Registration went smoothly. This year the timing chip was on a comfortable Velcro strap worn around the ankle. Hopefully, it worked as well as it fit.

Mass Start – Notice the white “German” FUCANCER kit

The course wasn’t quite the same as last year. This year it featured two turns of 180º which was a little hairy given the family nature of the cyclists.

On the first lap, I stayed with my team and even was taking a pull at the beginning of the second lap. Then amidst all the “bottle” warnings of bottles on the road from being violently shaken loose from the bikes – the pavement was awful – my Garmin GPS flew off. The mount broke although the Garmin was OK. I had to stop, go back, and gather it. I was done riding in my group.

I put it in my back pocket and pulled it out each lap to reset the lap. It seemed to pick up mostly although there are some places where it looked like I went off course. Maybe my mileage should be a little higher.

At the end of the day I averaged 19.5 mph when moving, that is, when I’m not walking back to find my Garmin. And I got the “gold” medal for completing 8 laps within the 3.5 hour time window.

May 28, 2011August 13, 2021

Escaping Father Time

FRONT ROYAL, VIRGINIA

SkyMass is always a good test of fitness. And sometimes a giant slap in the face.

Starting at the water’s edge in Front Royal, one begins with a 7.2-mile climb on Skyline Drive. That is followed by a two-mile descent and then another eight-mile climb. A two-mile descent follows then another three-mile climb. You get the picture.

This was a Potomac Pedalers ride and I had hoped there would be 30-40 riders at the start. Instead, there were eight. And one had to turn back after 10 miles when his rear derailleur cable broke.

On the first climb not long after entering Shenandoah National Park, I shifted and my chain briefly came off the front chainring. On a flat road this is no problem as I can soft pedal and bring it back onto the sprocket. On a 7% grade this is more of a problem. I quickly lost my momentum and could not unclip quick enough. Gravity won. I steered into a ditch and hit the ground pretty hard but nothing was hurt except my pride.

With the group now in front of me, I simply had to ride at my own pace and catch them 10 miles later although they were never more than a couple of hundred yards ahead of me. I see you – I just can’t catch you.

With Mike turning back, there were seven on the ride and three guys went ahead. Four of us would loosely stay together for the rest of the ride.

At Thorton Gap, where US 211 crosses under Skyline Drive, we saw an approaching storm that would largely miss us. We followed 211 down to Luray (LOO-ray) and then over to Massanutten Mountain. Here the road kept getting harder. It was only a 3-mile climb which started out as 6-7%, pretty much the same grade as much of Skyline Drive. But the last mile kicks up to 10% then 12%, then 15%. There was even a stretch of 18%.

I had decided to let the group ride ahead and at one point, maybe twice, I looked up and saw our group leader of the day, Greg Gibson, off his bike either walking or simply resting. It was quite a test.

We regrouped at the top and hit the descent off the mountain into George Washington National Forest. The Fort Valley Road featured no more climbs but a series of rollers. I found that while I stayed with the group when we came to some risers I just couldn’t match their pop over the top. I sat up and let the group ride on and decided to meet up at the rest stop.

After the stop, we rolled off together. Again, I couldn’t match the accelerations at the end of the rises. The group was kind enough to wait at the last turn as we turned onto Mountain Road. That featured our last climb of the day and like the earlier one on Skyline Drive, a brief shifting moment led to a stuck chain and this time, a hard fall on the floor. Bloodied and beaten, Mike, a British rider waited for me and we rode home together.

My injuries were minor; a lacerated pinky, and some road rash on my elbow, and a little on the knee.

At the end of the day, my speed was 14.5 mph which was 0.5 less than when I rode this 13 months ago. With each ride, I wonder if Father Time will reach out and grab me, and today I worry more than ever that he did. One year ago I was just five months from cancer surgery. And I rode faster than today.

I think on that day we stayed together the entire time and I don’t remember a mile when I wasn’t pulling, or more likely, hanging on someone’s wheel. Today I doubt that I was on someone’s wheel more than 15 miles of out 80 and 10 of those were the last miles home as Mike and I rode together.

Maybe it was just a bad day in the saddle. Or maybe Father Time has got his grip on me. Maybe two crashes, which were really fall overs, took their toll on me. I do note that I rode over 5,000 miles last year with only one such incident — with a woman and her dog. And today I had two on one ride.

At the end of the day, I still completed a tough route which was better than sitting at home on the sofa.

April 24, 2011July 29, 2022

Easter Ride

RANSON, WEST VIRGINIA

Listening to the weather forecast this morning they determined that no prior Easter in Washington, D.C. had ever reached 80 degrees. Today it would. Of course, this was also the latest Easter in recent memory. It was a beautiful day for a ride and to try my new route to Charles Town.

The middle portion of my trip would remain unchanged — that from Aldie to Airmont via Snickersville Turnpike. But those 11 miles would be the only constant.

I had determined that from Airmont to Charles Town was about the same distance whether I cross on Va. 9 at Keyes Gap or took Va. 7 over Snickers Gap. But traffic, not distance, should be the determining factor in finding the best way.

I’m not sure how many times I have crossed on Rte. 9, less than 10, but it’s never a fun proposition. Entering just west of Hillsboro, Rte. 9 is two-lane, 55 mph, with no shoulder, sharp curves, and a two mile climb, although only the second mile is where the road kicks up.

My maps showed that if I stayed on Snickersville Turnpike and crossed the mountain at Va. Rte 7 it would be much safer. One doesn’t need to actually get on Rte. 7, which is a major four-lane road over the mountain, until about 1 kilometer, or 0.6 miles, from the top. Plus there is a decent size shoulder, although I wouldn’t necessarily call it real wide. But I knew I didn’t have to ride on Rte 7 except for that mile going over the top and then just over one mile (two kilometers), where I would cross the Shenandoah River.

At the southern end of the trip, I had taken the Prince William Parkway to Rte 234/Sudley Road past the Manassas Battlefield to Gum Springs Road. Following Gum Springs I took Braddock Road, which in these sections, is a very rough unpaved road for more than two miles. It connected with U.S. 15 for one mile and U.S. 50 for another 1.7 miles. My goal was to avoid these two major U.S. routes, both of which were two lanes and neither of which had much of a shoulder.

I headed down Bristow Rd which is a two-lane road with no shoulder but most drivers are pretty good about respecting cyclists on this road. It turns into Linton Hall Road which was the only part of the route I did not like. Four lanes, it is curb-to-curb with no shoulder, a 45 mph speed limit which meant most cars were doing 55 mph. The total distance on this portion was 10 kilometers (6 miles).

It was a short trip through Haymarket to Antioch Road at which time I stopped to call home and then was met by another cyclist, “Kenny.” We chatted as we rode off together. It was fun for a while but then I soon realized I was near the red zone. He was setting a pretty fast pace and I was struggling to stay on his wheel. I enjoyed his companionship but was relieved when he turned to ride up Ridge Road.

The Yellow House on Snickersville near Bluemont

With just one missed turn, I made my way to Aldie and Snickersville Turnpike. The day was gorgeous and the spring blossoms were on the trees. Snickersville is a roller coaster and for every screamin’ downhill section, you pay on the other side with a climb. It softened up the legs for sure.

I stopped at the general store in Bluemont and surveyed the dark clouds on the mountain. I knew I’d be getting wet sometime. Some things you can’t avoid.

With temperatures in the 80s, I really didn’t mind the rain at the top of the mountain and as quickly it came it seemed to leave – or I left it. At the bottom of the hill, I crossed the Shenandoah River and turned on Casselman Road. I followed the Shenandoah River briefly then turned and was surprised to find my route turned to dirt. A gravel road. Oh well. It was 2.5 miles (4 km) over the dirt before I was on Wickcliffe Rd.

I came to Kabletown Road and followed this to Old Cave Road to Charles Town. But I saw lightning in the distance. Dark clouds were looming ahead and I knew I was going into it. Again. I looked for shelter but found none and rode through about 10 minutes of the worst of it. Lightning followed by an almost immediate crack of thunder. It was scary.

I was drenched, but I was safe, I made it to Charles Town.

On the day it was an 80 mile ride which was a bit longer than the old route but almost all of it, more than 10 km (6 miles) is because of the Haymarket portion. I traded a couple of miles of dirt roads on Braddock Road for faster traffic on Linton Hall Road. I need to think if that’s a fair tradeoff.

The climb on Rte 7 is more formidable than the mountain crossing on Rte 9 and is safer too so this way is definitely in the books as the route to follow. I have to look for more paved roads and less dirt in Clarke Co., Va. but those 2.5 miles weren’t that bad.

Even with the thunderstorm, it was a great day on the bike.

April 10, 2011August 12, 2021

Nokesville to Summerduck

NOKESVILLE, VIRGINIA

My annual mileage is actually behind where I was one year ago when we had 60″ of snow and I was slow in recovering from cancer surgery. This winter wasn’t severe but we’ve had many days colder than normal.

I was invited to join Joe Penano and some riders from The Bike Lane team on a 70-mile ride out of Middleburg, Va., but was afraid that I wasn’t up to their level of fitness and would slow them down or get dropped. Instead, I opted for a Potomac Pedalers ride where I would know no one.

It was listed as a BB/A ride and I hoped it would be more BB than A. Or that we would have enough for two groups and I could join the BB group. Even then I was worried that I did not have the fitness to keep up with the BB group.

Maybe, even more, was the first time I when I first did a PPTC ride from Nokesville I did a BB ride and got dropped. I learned that A riders sometimes jump in the BB rides and naturally ramp up the pace. I was hoping we’d have enough for two groups, an A and a BB.

There were 10 of us. One group.

Our ride would take us to U.S. 17 to Summerduck in Fauquier County and back to start.

We started fast and went faster. Ten of us were in a paceline although I wouldn’t say we were maximized for speed. Each person as they moved up front took monster pulls instead of my preferred 20-30 seconds at the front. When it was my turn I pulled for about a mile (monster pull) then moved over just as the group was ready to hammer a downhill. My bad. I lost contact although the group did sit up and wait for me to come back.

About five miles from our rest stop we hit a hill and I was in last at the bottom. At the top, I was only 10 meters or so behind but did not have the recovery to hammer the pace. Ten meters grew to 40 and then 100. Then I lost contact. I pulled out my cue sheet and knew I was in trouble. I had switched Garmin to kilometers while the cue sheet was in miles. But a quick math lesson and I found myself back to the group at our rest stop. There was another rider behind me and he came in 3-4 minutes later.

Averaged 18.5 mph, I didn’t think I could continue this pace for the second half of the ride and was content to ride home alone. But we took off and I stayed with them. My mind kept thinking just get to me Sowego Road or Brentstown Road or Fleetwood Drive. Then I would sit up and soft pedal home.

The ten of us stayed together and the pace increased. We eventually dropped a rider and around 80 km. I lost contact and dropped back 30-40 meters but was able to catch the group at Brentstown Road. One or two riders waited for the dropped rider and the rest of us took off. I was still hanging in there until we hit a rise and a felt a sharp twinge in my quad. Cramp! Crap!

I immediately sat up and pulled myself out of the group. I knew then to soft-pedal the rest of the way and be content with what I had accomplished.

Only once did I ride this year as much as 16 mph and that was the Reston Bike Lane ride which always moves. I had hoped for 16, or dare I think, 17 on this ride. I came home at 19.0 mph.

I spent a lot of time in Heart Rate Zones 2 and 3 (two hours 23 minutes), 24 minutes in Zone 4, and two minutes in the red. I worked hard.

Clearly, my fitness is lacking but it was a great ride with an A class group.