peaceonabike - A Cancer Survivor's Journey to Find Peace on a Bike

April 8, 2012July 30, 2015

Knock Knock Knocking on President’s Door

FREDERICK, MARYLAND

I was pleased to see “Knock, Knock, Knocking on President’s Door” posted as a Potomac Pedalers ride for today. I last did this ride almost three years ago and suffered. I rode with a broken wrist and a yet-to-be-diagnosed e.Coli infection.

It wasn’t until two years later that I uploaded my data to RidewithGPS.com that I realized how sick I was. I knew I had to come back and ride it “healthy” albeit three years older.

I counted 30 people for this A/BB/B ride. Wheels down at 9:00 a.m. It was 39 degrees. And windy. We split into two groups – the As (and BBs) and the Bs. I looked at the Bs and (foolishly) decided I would try to ride with the As. That is always a bad idea. I should have stuck with the Bs.

In those first five miles we shed a number of riders, all of whom dropped back to the following B group. But I was struggling to keep up with the As.

As we hit a rise I started trailing off as did another rider. He told me that he knew he didn’t belong with them and would be dropped. But then he picked it up, integrated with them and I had to watch from 200 meters back for the next seven miles.

As we hit the serious climb in Cunningham Falls State Park I caught him, rode with him, then dropped him on the climb up Park Central. As we climbed I kept wondering how I did this with a broken wrist three years ago. I couldn’t stand out of the saddle and put weight on my wrist so I had to sit in all ride. I realized that even with a healthy wrist this was a tough climb.

From Mile 5 until the Sheetz break in Thurmont (Mile 31), I was a lone rider. I caught the previously mentioned rider and was passed by a real strong rider, “probably 35” (years old) said another about him. But that was it. I could have been on a solo ride.

At Sheetz the A group was getting ready to ride and foolishly (again) I decided I would ride with them. The rider who had passed me, wearing a green fleece looking jersey, went to the front and set the pace. And pace. And pace.

At the Sheetz in Thurmont

It was windy and perhaps 11 of us were struggling to keep the pace. I was working hard, (struggling) and moved to the back in case I wanted to drop off the pace. That would not be necessary.

At the Sheetz in Thurmont

At mile 43 we hit a rise and two of us dropped off the pace until the top of the hill. I thought the group would soft pedal for 10-15 seconds and let us integrate. Nope.

There had been two women riding and one of them, Stephanie Becker, dropped back when I did. After a few minutes of watching the group 200 meters in front and coming to a stop sign where they had not waited for us I said “I’m Barry.” She may as well should get to know me because we weren’t going to bridge the gap and it was apparent they weren’t interested in playing nice and waiting.

We rode at our own pace, both taking turns in the wind, and riding sensibly until the end. We discovered the group split up not long after we were shed. Just another Potomac Pedalers Ride. Sigh.

Seen on the Ride. From Jeremiah Bishop’s Gran Fondo.

Comparing metrics to three years ago, today wasn’t a whole lot better. I want to think the wind made it harder and I would have done better.

I rode 0.5 mph faster today and I want to believe I would have been at least 1.0 mph faster if not for the wind. My heart rate was only six bpm lower today. But I am three years older. And I’m happy.

March 13, 2012August 25, 2020

Recovery

WOODBRIDGE, VA

It seems like I’ve been down this road before. Too many times. This makes five surgeries in the last eight years.*

Nothing comes close to the cancer surgery two and a half years ago at Johns Hopkins. For that, I could only tell Ashley “this sucks” when she called. Yesterday I was able to tell her a lot more. And “sucks” wasn’t part of it.

I had the same knee surgery in 2006 to remove the torn portion of my meniscus. For that, I was on crutches for two weeks. By the second week, I had returned to work, on crutches, but went to the fitness center at lunchtime to pedal a stationary bike.

When I got home from the surgery yesterday I walked very gingerly to the front door and into the house. I balanced myself against the wall as necessary but never picked up a crutch. Or a pain pill.

Today I got the bike out. I put on tennis shoes, not the clip-ins, and wanted to see if I could pedal.

I could!

I didn’t go far, maybe 200-300 yards. But I went. The doctor said let the pain be my guide.

Pedaling is easier than walking. Unless I’m standing out of the saddle, it’s not supporting my body weight.

I’m not ready for a long ride. But I’m ready to begin recovery. Let the healing begin.

___
*Two foot surgeries, two knee surgeries, and one cancer surgery

March 12, 2012July 23, 2015

Peace on a Bike – II

ALTOONA, PA

Even in “winter,” the climb up Glenwhite Road from Horseshoe Curve is beautiful. There are enough Mountain Laurels that the forest retains a healthy look of green. A white water stream follows much of the road. From the time I turned onto Kittanning Point Road only two cars passed by on the next seven miles. I find it so peaceful riding here and it was a great place to come the day before surgery.

I created a 62 mile (100 km) ride and downloaded it to my bike’s Garmin. When I parked at Logan Valley Mall in Altoona and went to retrieve the route – it was gone. I must have screwed it up. More importantly, that meant I didn’t know where I was headed except up the mountain and I would improvise after that.

When I turned onto Kittanning Point Road I could hear a train above me, struggling to get up the mountain – the wheels creaking under the weight of the load. For a while I was “racing” the train to get to Horseshoe Curve. I smiled when I saw it ahead of me on the curve.

Passing by the Visitors’ Center, I was surprised that Horseshoe Curve was closed for the season. The trains still go by. And so did this cyclist although I did not see a single other cyclist today.

The climb up the mountain was harder than I remembered. I once went up it sitting down and briefly thought that would be today’s goal. Then it was a matter of just getting up it without stopping.

At the top I made it to Gallitzin but did not find the road to Cresson. I ended up at the entrance to the Allegheny Portage Railroad. From here, US Rte 22, the quickest way to Cresson, is a limited access divided four lane road off limits to my bike. I had to slip around the barriers and cut through the park on an access road to Old Rte 22 – Admiral Peary Hwy. I was comfortable cutting through the park even with the barriers in place because I park employee once told me to do that – that’s it’s OK for cyclists to use the access road.

Admiral Peary Highway in Cresson, Pa.

Admiral Robert Peary was an explorer who claimed to have led the first expedition, on April 6, 1909, to reach the geographic North Pole. He was from Cresson. Admiral Peary Highway, from Cresson to Ebensburg is a two lane shoulderless road with almost no flat sections. It’s either descending or climbing. It’s not my favorite road as there is a fair amount of traffic although there was no road rage on this day.

Mount Aloysius College, Cresson, Pa.

Once in Ebensburg, I saw a sign for a Bike Route and thought it was a less traveled road parallel to the main street. Instead it led me to the Ghost Town Trail — a nice rail trail but not suitable for a long ride on a road bike with its crushed limestone base. I rode it for 200 yards then jumped back on the road.

Ebensburg, Pa.
Notice above the red car Christmas decorations are still on the poles.

After Ebensburg I was winging it. I saw Alley Buck Road and remembered seeing that on a map it but didn’t see that it was also Beulah Road going in the opposite direction towards Nanty Glo. After a mile of headed the wrong way and sensing it – I found a man in his yard and asked for directions. He told me to turn around and go back to where I came from. I didn’t know if that was helpful or a warning. A cousin once warned me that the people around here are “rough.”

Ghost Town Trail, Ebensburg, Pa.

I crossed US 422 and headed north — until that didn’t feel right anymore. So I turned south. I didn’t realize that I had come to the town of Colver. I guess I was expecting more. There I asked a father and son for directions to Loretto.

At first they said go to Ebensburg and get on 22. I reminded them that I was on a bike. Then they suggested Peary Hwy. I then told them I needed to take back roads – the most direct route. So they sent me to Carrolltown.

In Carrolltown I was flying down a country road which felt right. Still, as I passed a house and saw a man in his garage I decided to stop. I told him how far I had traveled (50 miles) and that I was headed to Loretto then Gallitzin. He told me that the road would take me to “Loretta (sp).” Yikes, I wondered if we were talking about the same place.

Outside of Loretto/Loretta I stopped a car at a stop sign to make sure I was on the right road. I was.

Loretto, Pa.

In Loretto I talked to a couple about the next leg. Gallitzin. And they say that men don’t ask for directions.

On the road to Gallitzin I saw a mileage sign for “Gallitzin 3.” Then I came to a T and saw a sign “Ashville (left), Cresson (right).” There was no mention to the direction of Gallitzin. Love the Pennsylvania road signs. By feel, I was getting ready to turn right when a car pulled up. I asked directions. And right was correct.

That would begin the last three mile climb of the day, perhaps the hardest, if for no other reason I already had 65 miles in my legs. The last mile in Gallitzin was tough. Narrow steep streets, still with the gravel of winter on them. I didn’t think I would make the last two blocks. Knee hurting, I pushed through.

It’s hard to judge effort and the torn meniscus added pain or robbed me of power but the only other time I felt I would not make a climb was my first time up Mount Washington. I looked for a place to unclip and put a foot down but each pedal stroke got me closer to the top. And then it was a matter of a seven mile descent.

Garmin says my average cadence was 77 rpm. That seems high given all the climbing and lots of coasting, although I didn’t get in a tuck and not pedal nearly as much as one may think. But that’s more than 25,000 turns of the pedals. And every one hurt.

Knee Surgery Tomorrow

Surgery tomorrow. But peace on the bike today.

March 4, 2012July 23, 2015

The Little Things

RESTON, VIRGINIA

The shop ride at The Bike Lane in Reston was canceled today because of the overnight rain and the rain forecast for most of this morning. But I went to Reston to pick up some bike parts and decided to ride on the W&OD.

I wasn’t prepared for a long ride but the more I rode the more I wanted to ride. Until I bonked.

But it’s the little things that often make a ride. And today had some of those moments.

Around Herndon I passed a young woman, Ellen, who appeared to be just restarting from a stop. I was then surprised to see that she was sitting on my wheel. I wanted to warn her that she should announce her presence lest she be hit by some flying snot rockets, of which there were a few.

We passed a man who had two dogs on leashes and one, a pit bull, appeared determined to CHASE. Someone on a bike. Ellen moved to the outside of me. I thanked her for letting me be closest to the dog.

We didn’t have long together. She was out for a short ride before turning around. But our brief conversation, especially me recalling my encounter with those Pennsylvania dogs was a simple pleasure.

I kept riding and reached Purcellville where I left the W&OD and went to Loudoun Golf and Country Club. There I met my son-in-law, Bryan Snow. Another simple pleasure.

With Bryan Snow at Loudoun Golf and Country Club

The ride to Purcellville was tough. A strong wind was blowing — at times it was a direct head wind while at other times it was a cross wind. Plus it is a gradual uphill climb to Purcellville.

The terminus of the W&OD at Purcellville

I had hoped for a strong tail wind on the return but the winds were swirling and were mostly cross winds. So I fought it all day. I was not prepared for a long ride, I had no water or food. And no money either. About 10 miles from the finish I felt it. I bonked. I was out of energy. I knew it because even the slightest grades and I was out of the saddle rather than sitting and producing a constant pedaling rhythm.

While it’s not weighing on my mind like the cancer surgery of 2 1/2 years ago, my upcoming surgery has me appreciating each remaining ride until I take the forced time off the bike. And appreciate the little things such as a simple conversation or a short visit.

But next time I’ll take some food. Or at least water.

February 26, 2012August 31, 2020

Velodrome Country

TREXLERTOWN, PA

I wasn’t sure that I would get back here. I was here to attend a fundraiser last night for Jake Grecco, a 7-year old battling brain cancer — he’s also the son of my 4th cousin, Stacey Lowmaster. After the fundraiser when Stacey asked if we would like to meet Jake. All cycling was off. Jake trumps cycling every time.

L-R: Gary Gravina, Betsy Sherry, Stacey Gravina, Jake Grecco, Barry Sherry

After a wonderful morning visiting Jake and his family, then saying goodbye to my sister, Betsy, I realized I still had just enough time to return and finish yesterday’s ride. It was windy but not with the unsafe gusts of yesterday. The route, downloaded to my Garmin, proved to be one with lots of turns. I had no idea where I was going – In Garmin We Trust.

Valley Preferred Velodrome, Trexlertown, Pa.

I retraced yesterday’s attempted route for six miles and then went down some new roads. I had hoped to ride 26 miles without putting a foot down but when I came to a beautiful barn I knew I had to stop to take some pictures.

I found a unique shed with implements attached to the outside. I stopped at the foot of the driveway then asked permission “to come aboard.” The owner was very pleased that I asked permission to photograph his shed and glad that I found it interesting.

Near Kutztown I realized I was in Amish Country. I passed an Amish wood working shop then met a group of cyclists coming in the opposite direction. They had good form but wore no helmets. They were on road bikes but wore no “fancy” cycling clothes. Then I realized they were young Amish men returning from church. I wanted a photo but respected their beliefs and simply waved. And they waved back.

I turned down a country road and spotted two women with three large dogs. And I had to go past them. I love dogs but still remember my encounter in 2010 in which two Rottweillers tried to get to know me better. I didn’t want to pedal past them and trigger a chase reaction. Well, a chase and bite reaction.

I slowed then called out “safe to pass?” One of the women said it was although the three dogs were running loose. They may have had different ideas. So I stopped. The women gathered up the dogs and two of them came over to sniff me and say hello.

We were friends. At this point, I was about three miles from the finish. I just pedaled home thankful for another day on the bike. After returning home, I found out from my cousin, Doug Sherry, that I had passed about two miles from his house. I feel so bad. Next time he better have food waiting.

February 25, 2012August 31, 2020

Safe, Unsafe, or Stupid

TREXLERTOWN, PENNSYLVANIA

We, or at least I, have a saying: There are three types of riding – “Safe, unsafe, and stupid.”
And often the line between unsafe riding and stupid riding is blurred.

I came to Trexlertown, Pa. which is home to the famous Valley Preferred Cycling Center’s Velodrome. It was cold (38°) and windy (winds were steady at 30-40 mph with gusts even higher). I had budgeted time to ride before meeting my sister, Betsy, in Allentown.

Sorry, folks! America’s Favorite Velodrome is Closed for the Season.

Snow was blowing. The roads were bare so the snow wasn’t sticking but it was blowing. And here in the mecca of east coast cycling, I saw no one.

I took my time. I didn’t want to go out in this weather but knew I must. Ten minutes passed. The van was rocking from the wind and I could feel the cold air blowing in. I didn’t want to go but yet…

…I was here and it was time to MAN UP!!

Then I saw three cyclists arrive and that was my cue. If they could ride, I had no excuses. I kitted up and headed off. I had briefly thought about asking to join them but figured they were stronger than me. Plus I am nursing a torn meniscus so I didn’t need to push it to keep up.

I headed off into the wind. And it was strong. I had downloaded a ride that was on RideWithGPS to my Garmin bike computer with just the right distance (28 miles) and turns (a bunch) to be interesting. After 3-4 miles of fighting the winds I saw three cyclists coming at me and they were soft-pedaling. It was the three guys that had been in the parking lot.

My thought only turned to how slow they were going, with the wind, and me kicking myself knowing I could stay with them. I regretted not going with them.

I then hit the open road unprotected by houses or trees; just open fields. The winds were howling. At times they were incredibly loud and other times there was an eerie silence.
Down the road, a gust hit me and almost caused me to crash. I fought with both hands to steer and although I stayed upright, I had been blown across both lanes of the country road. Had another car been passing me, or another one been coming from the opposite direction, I would have been in a crash with an automobile. It was scary that I could not steer the bike in a straight line. Nor could I hear cars coming because the winds were howling so loud.

This was stupid riding. I guess it took me to realize that it was stupid to know that it was unsafe. And it was very unsafe. At that point, I decided I had to turn around.

I was determined to retrace some of my route but also to follow road signs for the shortest way back to the start. And then I discovered why my three friends were going slow even with a tailwind. They couldn’t hold their bikes in a straight line. I thought a tailwind was a reward for fighting the wind but today it was no reward. Today it was a menace.

In a year in which all my rides thus far went a minimum of 16 miles, I had to cut this off at 11 for which I was thankful. I was smart enough to park the bike knowing I can ride another day.

Now stupid riding was yesterday. Bob Ryan (NBC meteorologist) had forecast a high of 70° and I came prepared for 70°. It never got out of the 50s and I headed out for a ride in the pouring rain. Stupid.

I went around Hains Point and was soaked. What was the point? I hadn’t done a ride all year less than 16 miles and riding in the cold rain became a matter of pride. I couldn’t let this be the shortest ride of the year. So I suffered on. Yesterday was stupid.

Today — today was simply unsafe. It is why it was the shortest ride of the year although in a few days when I start evening rides I will go shorter.

This area is beautiful. I would like to return some other day but without these winter winds.

EDIT/EPILOGUE – This was my first day riding, or attempting to ride, at the Velodrome in Trexlertown. Cancer sucks but it has also giving me lots of opportunities and friendships that I otherwise would not have had. One of those has been an annual trip to Trexlertown with Spokes of Hope. I would come back to the Velodrome late each summer and have a chance to ride on the track as well as a Saturday morning group ride to Topton and back.

February 17, 2012July 30, 2015

When Life Gives You Lemons Go For a Bike Ride

WOODBRIDGE, VIRGINIA

Well, here I go again.

But this doesn’t suck. Cancer sucks.

My knee has been hurting, especially when walking or running. I don’t remember a traumatic injury – in fact, I don’t think there was one. But it was always worse after I played Ultimate (sometimes incorrectly called Ultimate Frisbee). Since there wasn’t an injury I just have to think how long this has been bothering me. Probably about 10 weeks.

I sucked it up. I took a deep breath. I manned up. I went to see my doctor.

My doctor did some range of motion tests and diagnosed it: Torn meniscus.

After the doctor visit I went for a bike ride. There is nothing better to clear the mind and just enjoy the ride. And it was a day that I went over 500 miles for the year — on February 17.

Usually I have 100 miles or less by this date. My fast start? Maybe too good to be true.

I have no answers. I do have fear. Fear that at age 65 I will not be able to walk.

I had foot surgeries in 2003 and 2004. And a torn meniscus in 2006.

Wonder what this means?

I have some cycling goals for 2012 — Ride the Rockies. Mount Washington. Now I don’t know.

But my doctor says cycling is the best thing I can do. So I will continue to ride. Even though it hurts.

I’m frustrated. I don’t know what’s next. But when life gives you lemons, go for a bike ride. So I did.

February 5, 2012July 23, 2015

The Best Ref in the World

RICHMOND, VA

While making a presentation about her experience at the last summer’s Women’s World Cup in Germany, Kari Seitz looked at me and asked, “are you a cyclist?”

I didn’t hear anymore she said after that. If you want to get on my good side, just ask me if I’m a cyclist. Here I was in a referee workshop and she recognized me as a cyclist. I wasn’t wearing spandex and she didn’t see my legs. She saw a cyclist’s body – no upper body, strong legs.

Or did she see my phone with its collection of jerseys on the covers?

“Did you bike up Alpe d’Huez?,” she asked.

Damn. It was my phone. My phone gave me away.

But Kari Seitz, who is certainly the best female referee in the world, settled into a conversation with me about cycling. And she is a cyclist.

One of these refs is the best referee in the world

Kari told me that if she had retired from refereeing a couple of years ago she would have jumped right into racing. And I’m sure she would have been very good. To be a FIFA Referee you have to be near-world class in both sprinting and endurance running. Plus you have to be a good ref too.

I was able to tell her about my ride up Alpe d’Huez. I told her I have gone over 50 mph on my bike and she one-upped me. She has gone over 60 mph. On a tandem. Her husband is a Cat-2 racer and while they have their own bikes they also have a tandem.

Kari told me they like to go out for recreational rides on their bike and they often see some racer types intent on overtaking them. She said she has a signal and right before they get passed, they put the hammer down and leave them in the dust. She smiled as she talked about how demoralized it leaves them.

While I was somewhat disappointed that I couldn’t ride today, meeting Kari Seitz and talking about cycling was a trade off I would make any day.

January 8, 2012April 17, 2024

A Fast Start

WOODBRIDGE VA

It probably means nothing. Two years ago when I was recovering from cancer I did two rides in January – both slow Potomac Pedalers rides just to see if I could ride. The first was January 18, the second was January 24. Total miles for January was 47. February, because of the weather, was worse. Just one ride for 23 miles. Two months and just 70 miles. Yet I ended up with more than 5,000 miles.

This is a fast start. It probably means nothing.

I was sick on New Year’s Eve in Pennsylvania. Yet I focused in on finishing 2011 with 3,700 miles. Why? I don’t know. But I rode. It was 36 degrees and just a cold damp day. No sun. And a brief light rain. My moment of truth came at Mile 10 when I could have ridden three miles more back to Camp Harmony but instead chose to ride 10 more miles around the Quemahoning Reservoir.

Almost immediately after I showered, I crashed. It was 4:00 p.m. and I heard my dad say “That ride really wiped him out.” Well, it didn’t so much as I was sick. Fever. Headache. Aches. Runny nose.

I went to bed New Year’s Eve by 7:00 and slept more than 12 hours. New Year’s Day started beautifully near Somerset. I still felt like crap but reasoned incorrectly that riding makes everything better. Usually it does.

But everyone rides on New Years Day. No matter what. So I rode.

I felt OK while I rode, it was 32 degrees, but even worse when I finished. I was off on January 2 and missed work on January 3 being sick.

Still not recovered, I thought more than once about not riding today knowing the pace may be too fast. But I rode and it was. It was a large group which quickly splintered due to the fast pace up front. We formed a group at the rear and eventually most people played nice.

When we got back to the W&OD I turned and headed to Ashburn. I stopped at Dominion Trail Elementary, where Bethany teaches then missed the W&OD which is right beside the school. I rode up to Rte 7 then had to retrace to find the W&OD.

A little windy, I was pretty wiped by the time I returned to The Bike Lane, 50 miles later. I’m still not 100%.

But I drove home and WTOP was reporting that it was 68 degrees (20 C) in Woodbridge. I knew I must ride when I got home. So I added another 12 miles to make it 62 on the day (100 km).

But if it was 68 it showed that I am still sick. I was cold the entire time despite wearing a jacket.

But through seven days in January my mileage is now 101 miles. In 2010 I didn’t reach that until March 6 and in 2011 it was on February 15. I’d say to hit 100 miles by January 7 is off to a fast pace.

But miles are measured in thousands, not tens, and to be 50 or 60 ahead of last year or 2010 is nothing. The key will be to sustain the pace which is hard in January and February because of weather and a busy schedule of teaching referee courses. After all, 100 miles is simply one ride in July.

Time will tell whether 2012 will get me back to 5,000 miles. Or 6,000.

December 31, 2011January 6, 2022

Reflections on the Year – 2011

I thought that when I pedaled 5,000 miles in 2010 that that would become my new annual goal – the base by which all future years were measured. I now realize that 5,000 miles are a lot of miles for someone who works full time.

I fell short. Way short. Just 3,700 miles this year. And I really haven’t analyzed why. Some things stand out such as I biked home from work 14 times last year. This year, just three. That’s about 450 miles or so. But where are the other 800-900 miles?

Sometimes I ride to remember. Sometimes I ride to forget. But last year I just rode. I guess this year I just didn’t have as much to remember. Or to forget.

Ironically, last year my total mileage was never a goal and in some ways, I was wrong to think of it as the goal for every year. Just ride. Enjoy the air. The sun. Even the rain. But most of all, enjoy the ride.

It is said this monument on the Col du Tourmalet, is for any cyclist who can bike to the top. I have a monument.

My Top Ten Rides (in no particular order)

Col du Tourmalet. We never made it to the summit last year because we were blocked by the Tour de France. Twice. This year, riding with Adrian Register, I made it. Added bonus: I handed Stuart O’Grady a newspaper while he rode by (so that he could insert it in his jersey for warmth).

2. Civil War Century. Rode slower than last year. And cramped. But this route is special. How can one not be moved when riding through Gettysburg?

Two of us wearing the same Alp d’Huez Jersey. How embarrassing.

3. America’s Most Beautiful Ride. Thirty-eight degrees and raining at the start at Lake Tahoe. Never higher than 50°. But the best I ever felt on a bike for 100 miles. And it was beautiful.

4. Mont Ventoux. Cold and rainy. And windy – 50 mph at the top. But cross one off the bucket list.

5. Alpe d’Huez. The nicest day I had in France and I was joined by my friend, Brian Hutchins, for the climb up this iconic mountain.

6. Col du Galibier. I did not make it and am not ashamed to admit it. Cold and rainy at the start, it got colder and wetter the farther up I went, to the summit of the Col du Lautaret. It was simply the coldest I have ever been on a bike. I turned around and went hypothermic on the descent. After drying off and changing clothes, I drove to the top – through 3-4″ of snow. I later learned 200 cyclists had to be rescued from here two days earlier. It was July 19.

7. Pulling the Grandkids. I bought a child’s trailer for the bike and was able to take grandsons Andy and Aiden for a few loops of their neighborhood on Thanksgiving Day. And on Christmas Day at our house, the kids wanted — to go for a ride with Grandpa.

8. Mount Lemmon. A 26-mile climb in the heat from 2,500′ to 9,000′ through six different ecosystems. Tucson, Arizona.

9. Jeremiah Bishop’s Alpine Loop Gran Fondo. The first hill I ever walked, 18% grade and mud. Just mud. (Gravel) But finally, a charity ride for prostate cancer.

10. Mount Washington Auto Road Bicycle Hillclimb. My fourth climb up this iconic mountain, this was the first time my wife, Cheri, joined me. She was impressed by my suffering.

In addition to the riding, I met some very nice people along the way. At Lake Tahoe I met Rodrigo Garcia Brito — he and I would be riding partners for the entire 100 miles (or 98).

Along Rte 31 on the Allegheny Plateau near Somerset, Pa., I met Rolf, from Denmark, who was exploring part of the U.S. I invited him to my niece’s graduation party to feed him. (I called first to make sure it was OK, OK?)

Many people go to the Tour de France and hope to see “The Devil,” a Tour fixture for years. Most never see him. I saw him twice and was photographed both times.

But it’s a random act of kindness I will most remember. Near Carpentras, France, I had been locked out of my prepaid B&B. All the hotels in the city were full. I had no place to go. I found a campground, Camping Les Fontaines, just as they were closing at midnight, or was it 1:00 a.m.? They were sold out. But I didn’t have a tent anyhow.

The owners graciously allowed me to park in their lot – which was all that I wanted. And brought me a pillow and blanket. And offered me a towel. It wasn’t the most pleasant night I had sleeping – in fact it was pretty awful – but when I slept I knew I was safe.

I would have gladly paid for a space but they didn’t charge me.

In 2011 I missed my mileage goal and I will have to rethink whether I want that to be a goal for 2012. Some of my best rides (Mount Washington – 8 miles) weren’t about the mileage. But at the end of the day, or at the end of the year, I should not be disappointed where the road took me.

Who knows where the road leads in 2012?

EDIT (2020) – In looking back at this post some nine years later, I was fretting about only riding 3,700 miles while saying it’s not about the miles. In retrospect, this was one of my favorite years. It really isn’t about the miles but the experiences can be anywhere.