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

July 17, 2011July 15, 2024

Mont Ventoux

BÉDOIN, FRANCE

I met two guys from West Chester, Pa. (near Philadelphia) in Bédoin, which is the little village before the base of the climb. We agreed to ride together until James and Brian decided that I (1) had already ridden too many climbs this trip, (2) was suffering from sleeping in the car last night and having no breakfast*, and (3) was much older than them. They had just arrived and were looking to follow the Tour de France. Too bad they didn’t wait for me because I had lots of useful tips. Philly fans.

So I started the climb on my own. It started raining part way up. Still, I was in short sleeves until I pulled on my vest with about 10km to go.

The lower wooded section is beautiful. Climbing higher I saw few riders but did pass one from Denmark. His wife was with him for support. She would pass, go ahead 200-300 meters, and then wait until he passed her. And then she would drive ahead.

Visibility near the top dropped to 10 meters. On the last turn to the summit, I was hit by 50 mph (80 kmh) winds which ripped my glasses right off my face. Goodbye glasses. The wind blew me across the road but I stayed upright, worried only about a descending car. Luckily there were none. It was empty up there.

It was only about 50 meters more to the summit. I stayed at the summit no more than 2-3 minutes. I think severe hypothermia would probably set in by spending no more than an hour there. It was nasty on top. The temperature was probably 40 F (5 C) and the winds seemed to be sustained at about 50 mph.

I was content to take a picture of the summit sign but three women from Germany drove up as I was getting ready to leave and offered to take my picture. Thus I have photographic evidence of being there.

I was trying to lift my bike over my head but the winds were too strong

As I had climbed I had passed the memorial to Tom Simpson just a couple hundred meters from the top. I did not want to stop and lose momentum so I kept going. This memorial is to drugs, no? Tom was high on amphetamines and alcohol and pushed himself beyond the limit of his body and died on this mountain during the Tour de France. But yet, he’s a hero.

On the way down I stopped to take a photo. It seems like the thing to do is to donate a water bottle. I didn’t.

A cyclist going up saw me taking a photo, stopped, and offered to take mine. He did and then I took his. I also gave him a push to help him clip in and get going again.

Despite being dropped by my Philly friends, I was passed by four cyclists going up and I passed 17. On the descent, I was passed by no one and passed four more cyclists plus two cars. I was freezing on the descent (I did put on arm warmers), went through sleet then just pouring rain. I went as fast as I could safely go just to get down quickly.

Oh yea, Frenchmen must have a complex because they sure like to paint penises on the road quite a bit.

*I had made a reservation at a bed and breakfast near Mormion. There was no house number for a street address. Garmin got me close then had me go up a back alley that soon narrowed and wasn’t big enough for the car. I asked three different families who were walking and none seemed to no for sure where it was. Eventually, I found it, and took just my backpack to the door.

I used the door knocker. I heard a dog bark but that was it. They had a bell with a long rope. I pulled it repeatedly. No answer. I was scared. I was literally in a back alley.

I found my way to the main street and there was a pizza shop about to close with a couple sitting out front. I started talking to them and found out they were from England. He was kind enough to use his iPhone and call the place for me. Answering machine. He then sent an email. After 15 minutes the pizza shop closed and the owner went with me to the place. He too had no luck getting an answer.

I drove to the nearest major city, Carpentras. I found a Best Western that was about to close for the night (11:00p) and a sign on the door advertised they were full. I asked anyhow if they knew of other vacancies. The desk clerk told me that every hotel he knew was full since there was a festival in town.

I asked if he would be so kind as to let me log onto his WiFi and send my wife a message that I was OK since I hadn’t messaged her at all today. Of course, I was also scared to death but wouldn’t tell her that. He walked outside with me and secretly handed me a slip of paper with codes to the WiFi signal. He showed me the imaginary line where I would be outside of camera range because he would get in trouble if his boss saw him helping me. (True)

I thanked him, got my laptop as the rain started to fall lightly, then ducked in a protected area close enough but not able to be seen. I found the signal but could not connect. Damn shame.

I got in the car and started driving. I looked for “all lodging” on the GPS and it brought up campgrounds as well. I thought that might be an option. One was close and a bit secluded. I arrived and went through a security gate. I parked and explained my situation to a young man who quickly ran and got his sister because “her English is perfect.” It wasn’t, far from it compared to many people I met in France, but it was adequate. And it was 10 times better than my French. Her mother, the campground owner came over as well.

This campground was full. I offered to rent a site but they had none available. Then she asked if I had a tent. Well, no. All I was looking for was to park for the night and sleep in the car. Someplace safe from criminals and the police (in case it was somehow illegal).

They willingly agreed and offered me a blanket and pillow. And a shower. I declined all but the owner brought me a blanket anyhow. I’m glad she did.

It wasn’t a relaxing sleep in the Fiat and morning came soon enough. I went to meet and thank the owners and this time there was a man there. I returned their blanket and couldn’t thank them enough.

He had fresh croissants delivered and I bought one for my breakfast then decided to drive to Bédoin rather than bike there because I was very unsure of the direction. Thus I had suffered from sleeping in the car last night and having no breakfast, save for a croissant, which is hardly the energy food for climbing such a mountain.

July 16, 2011August 28, 2020

A Sign for the Times

SAINT GAUDENS, FRANCE

I saw a mountaintop pass of the Tour, I’ve been at the finish for another, and today would be a day to see a start stage. Stage 14 of the Tour de France is from Saint Gaudens to Plateau de Beille.

Adiran Register and I drove to St. Gaudens, parked, then used our bikes to try to find the team buses and sign-in. The streets were narrow and confusing but we eventually found a long line of buses. Much of the interior of the center city was blocked off for guests with private passes. VIPs.

We decided to hang out at the Leopard-Trek bus as Adrian Register has a “Shut Up Legs” t-shirt he tried to get autographed by Jens Voigt.

No one was coming out although a few people seemed to have good luck handing items to be sent in the R.V. and signed. By whom is the question.

Unlucky to get any autographs, once the riders departed for the stage start, we tried to get to the roll out. A number of “fans” saw Adrian in his full FDJ kit and wished him good luck. It was pretty cool that they thought he was a pro rider. No mistaking me for a pro rider though.

We missed the roll out, probably because we went in the opposite direction, but we followed the course for a few kilometers just stretching out our legs. Just as we were ready to turn back into town, I spotted it. A Tour route sign that had not been claimed.

I was not willing to take one down before they went by but this was on a signpost – right in front of two Gendarmes. I looked at Adrian and he looked an me and I knew I had my prized souvenir. Except we had nothing to remove it with. Adrian asked the Gendarmes if they had wire cutters. They didn’t. But removing a tool from my toolkit on my bike, and enough twisting and pulling, the wire holding it finally broke loose.

I now have one of the prized signs. Vive le Tour! *

After the stage we drove back to St. Lary-Soulan and I said goodbye to Adrian while meeting his grandparents. Cool thing: As we pulled Adrian’s bike out of the car his grandmother grabbed the loose rear wheel and put it right on the bike.

*UPDATE July 8, 2017 – Almost six years after acquiring my prized possession, I let it go. Rather than sit in a box in the basement, it deserves to be displayed.

I took it to Bicycles and Coffee bike shop (and coffee) in Purcellville where everyone can see the sign.

Nicole was so appreciative she gave me a copy of her book, Under the French Blue Sky.

Scott & Nicole – Enjoy! Vive le Tour!

July 15, 2011August 5, 2021

Thor de France

LOURDES, FRANCE

Yesterday I had a problem with a loose spoke on my rear wheel and the wheel was out of true. I blamed the wheel rubbing on the brake for my dragging up the Tourmalet and really suffering up that climb.

The local bike shop in St. Lary opened at 9:00 a.m. so Adrian Register and I decided we would see if they could true the wheel before today’s ride. They couldn’t (the wheel was cracked.) Since we didn’t get on the road until after 9:00 a.m. by the time we reached Lourdes we knew our original plan of a 70-mile loop ride would not occur.

We wanted to ride and to see a stage finish and by the time we got rolling, we knew our best course of action would be to ride out and back. We would have to keep an eye on the time to be back by the time they closed the roads at 2:00 p.m.

A real surprise to us occurred less than 10 km from Lourdes. We were on a flat part of the course when I spotted the tell tale signs of evil. Freshly painted on the asphalt was the Devil’s pitchfork (or trident). I looked up and saw him and stopped. Photo time.

Many people come to the Tour and hope to see the Devil. Getting a picture is an extra bonus. I got a picture yesterday and now, another one. I wonder if he recognized me from yesterday? I told Adrian no matter what happened, I was happy. My day was complete. My Tour was complete.

The Devil (Didi Sefnt) with Adrian Register

We rode out to Argeles-Gazost where the road turned up. Steep, but this was not the climb up the Col du Soulor. We hit a plateau and went through a small town. I got laughing as I passed a house where some kids, probably ages 10-12, we’re yelling out “hello” to passing riders. They were practicing their English. So I greeted them with a cheery hello as well. And they were pleased.

We were watching the time and it was shortly after 1:00 when we turned up the climb to the Soulor which would lead to the Aubisque. If we continued we would be stuck in place so we decided to turn around and get back to Lourdes.

At Lourdes we were able to ride inside the barriers until the 1km flag. At that point the course was closed. We walked our bikes for the final kilometer but it was very slow going through the massive crowds. We found the team buses and our plan was to be at the chute where they pass through although we couldn’t get close to that.

Meanwhile, back in Lourdes, Adrian on a breakaway…

Back in town, we took up position on the barriers to watch the caravan go by. It was quite comical because seemingly anything thrown to a French kid would bounce off their hands and into mine. It helped growing up playing sports where we used our hands. And as I did last year during the Tour, anything I caught I handed it to a kid. I’m not a jerk. Usually.

After watching the caravan go by we moved to the 1K “kite” (generally known globally by the French name, flamme rougue, or red flag). Here we could watch them fly by and watch the last few hundred meters of the race on TV.

The *flame rougue* two hours before the race in Lourdes

There were a number of Norwegians on our corner but Thor Hoshovld had to overtake two French riders to win. I knew the Norwegians would cheer when Thor made his break but it seemed like everyone was cheering when Thor went ahead with 2k to go.

When we saw Thor fly by, we made our way to the team buses to see most of the riders come back.

It was a different way to see the tour but got us close to many riders. We heard Thor win but couldn’t see him. We were in the bus area where the riders would be going to their team buses.

We ended up next to Leopard-Trek bus. We saw Fränk Schleck come out (or just before he went in) and sign some autographs.

And I got a picture with the Devil.

Leopard-Trek roster painted on the team bus
**Andy Schleck, Fränk Schleck, Fabian Cancellara,** Oliver Zaugg, Bruno Pires
**Jens Voigt,** Dominic Klemme, Fabian Wegmann, Robert Wagner, **Linus Gerdemann**
,Davide Viganò, Daniele Bennati, Giacomo Nizzolo, **Maxime Monfort,** Wouter Weylandt
**Jakob Fuglsang,** Anders Lund, Martin Mortensen, Martin Pedersen, Brice Feillu
Will Clarke, **Stuart O’Grady**, Stefan Denifl, Tom Stamsnijder, **Joost Posthuma**
**BOLD = Riders at the 2011 TdF**

July 14, 2011June 28, 2022

Tourmalet 2011

ST. LARY-SOULAN, FRANCE

The route for Stage 12 today would be similar to last year’s stage over the Tourmalet. That happened to be my first time watching le Tour and we looked forward to climbing the Tourmalet. In contrast to today’s chilly or cold weather, last year was a bright and sunny day. When we reached our viewing location in La Mongie, a ski village about four kilometers short of the summit, we were told no more cyclists were being permitted to go through to the top.

While it was disappointing not to make the climb to the top, we did have a great viewing location with lunch while we waited for the Tour. I have no estimate of the crowds of this year versus last year. The weather today wasn’t nearly as nice but it is also Bastille Day.

Last year I was with Trek Travel with a specific destination including departure time. This year I was riding solo, actually double, as I met up with Adrian Register in St. Lary. Adrian and I had planned out a full day of riding and viewing. We would leave St. Lary then head over the Tourmalet to Luz Ardiden to watch the finish of the stage. It was more than 50 miles one-way so we would have a century ride ahead of us.

We would be leaving early enough to beat any road closures so this time I would be able to ride up the Tourmalet. Unlike last year when the Tour went over the Col d’Aspin the peloton would go over a ridge parallel to it called the Hourquette d’Ancizan. The Hourquette is a less traveled road, very narrow, compared to the main road that went over the Aspin. Both roads get you over the mountain.

We began the climb of the Hourquette. It appeared to have been recently repaved for the Tour. It wasn’t a smooth asphalt but clearly was new pave. Main roads have markings on either side at the edge and a center line. Narrow back roads have only the markings on either side. “Really back roads” don’t have any markings. The Hourquette had no markings.

Adrian and I started early, shortly after 7:00 a.m. so we could get over the Tourmalet before it closed to all traffic. While we had ridden to La Mongie, I never reached the summit and never felt comfortable telling people I had cycled up the Tourmalet. I hadn’t. Nor could I buy one of those Tourmalet jerseys. I mean I could but I wouldn’t feel right about it.

At the summit of the Hourquette four cars pulled over to allow an oncoming car to pass. When they did, a car beside me pulled sharply to the right – right where I was precariously perched on the side of the road with a sizable drop and no guard rail. I held onto the car, even grabbing the mirror to steady myself. I heard the passenger yell at the driver. No harm.

Adrian being chastised on my behalf, I think
But it was in French

It was a very nice 10km (six miles) descent down the Hourquette. At the end of the descent we stopped as some free ranging cattle were moving. Apparently, they get frightened if you look at them, a challenge I suppose, and I took their picture. Oh oh. They went stampeding by but did not charge us. The Gendarmes were not amused. But then again, they never are.

We had another four miles of descending to the Village of the Creepy Dolls (St. Marie-Campon). Then the climb began. The ascent of the Tourmalet went slower than I remembered. And was more difficult. At the end of the second snow shed I told Adrian I had to stop. There, painting on the road, was the Devil! I had to get this once in a lifetime opportunity.

Only a few hundred meters after the Devil encounter, I spotted the Trek Travel tent on top of the restaurant in La Mongie. It was the restaurant “we” ate at last year. Adrian had jumped in our group and Marquette, our wonderful Trek Travel guide, made sure he could join us. I told Adrian that I wanted to stop. At the tent, I fit right in wearing my Trek Travel jersey. One of the guides, Shaun, even offered to take and store my (Trek) bike.

I laughed. I told them who I was, that I had been on the trip last year, and was just stopping for water for my bottles. Then filled it with energy mix. And ate three bananas. And took some energy bars. I was good to go. This Trek Travel stop was my oasis in the desert.

Trek Travel. Sorry I didn’t get your name.

I’m not sure if the last four km were steeper than the rest of the climb or if it was the cumulative effect of climbing but I was suffering. I cramped when I got out of the saddle and Adrian rode ahead. When I reached the summit I could barely get off the bike.

Barry – with proof that I made it to the summit of the Tourmalet

We both had to dismount and walk through the crowd of cyclists that had already gathered at the summit. After a few minutes and some photo taking, we mounted and headed down the other side of the Tourmalet on our way to Luz Ardiden.

I stopped after about 500 meters. Something didn’t feel right and was making a sound. I discovered that my rear wheel had been rubbing on my brake. Crap. No wonder it was so hard getting up the mountain. My brakes were on!

I opened the brakes to stop the rubbing and we only went another couple of kilometers before stopping and watching a herd of llamas go by. After a discussion of the amount of time it would take to return from Luz Ardiden, we decided to return to the top of Tourmalet and watch the Tour from there.

We froze. We were perhaps the only people on the summit without jackets. And it was cold. We were woefully underdressed if not dangerously underdressed. The barriers were in place for the last 70 meters to keep the crowds back and designate the King of the Mountain points. Between the barrier and a stone wall which was about 1.5 meters high we squeezed in with our bikes and at times, crouched down to let the barricades block the wind. It was a perfect viewing location. And it blocked the wind.

Restaurant at the summit of the Tourmalet

But then – the Gendarmes. One came over and told us we couldn’t be behind the barriers that were erected for keeping people behind the barriers. We ended up sitting on the wall.

A great tradition of the Tour de France is the publicity caravan. It is a parade at the speed of the Tour. One of the vehicles in the caravan was advertising Vittel water. Their float was a giant water bottle with a person sitting on it with a long sprayer in hand. On hot days it is great to spray the crown but today was cold. Everyone, except Adrian and me, were bundled up and did not want to get wet. I really thought that common sense may prevail but he looked at the small crowd and sprayed us. Jerk.

As the people on the floats in the caravan threw items, two young French girls jumped down between the wall and the barrier to pick up some of the items that had been thrown. Watching them, we reasoned once the Tour came by, if we jumped down behind the barrier the Gendarmes couldn’t reach us to make us move. And as the first riders came up the climb, we moved back in behind the barrier. Best spot in the house.

Our viewing location – between the barriers and the wall But on the other side of the road

I understand that a number of my friends saw me on the television broadcast that day. I did not. But I was there in person. Shivering.

One of the floats in the caravan was the L’Equipe newspaper. As they threw papers I grabbed two even though I could not read French. As the race came over the top I handed a newspaper to Stuart O’Grady. Pretty cool that he took it and put it in his jersey. Actually I held out a newspaper for anyone to grab and it was Stu who grabbed it. And I saved a paper for my descent too. It helps.

Once the road was reopened after the Tour went by, we first descended to La Mongie and stopped again at the Trek Travel location. There I borrowed a spoke tool and tightened up a loose spoke which helped greatly. The wheel wasn’t true, but much better than it was. At Shaun’s insistence, I kept the tool and promised to return it to Trek Travel in the Alps.

On the way home we decided to take the Col d’Aspin instead of the Horquette. Adrian says it was easier from this side but I’m not so sure about that.

On the day it was cold, wet, and miserable, but sure full of memories.

As I came into St. Lary at the end of the day, I found a pizza shop.

American Pizza – Pizza with French Fries

Race Notes: First the last four kilometers of the Tourmalet were about the same as the rest of the climb. My suffering was the cumulative effects of the entire climb.

The Devil’s real name is Didi Senft.

</p> </div> </article> <article id="post-6273" class="post-6273 post type-post status-publish format-standard hentry category-france tag-adrian-register tag-bernard-hinault tag-greg-lemond tag-luchon tag-superbagneres"> <header class="entry-header"> <div class="entry-meta"><span class="screen-reader-text">Posted on</span> <a href="https://peaceonabike.com/superbagneres-in-the-fog/" rel="bookmark"><time class="entry-date published" datetime="2011-07-13T20:00:22-04:00">July 13, 2011</time><time class="updated" datetime="2020-09-06T22:12:04-04:00">September 6, 2020</time></a></div><h3 class="entry-title"><a href="https://peaceonabike.com/superbagneres-in-the-fog/" rel="bookmark">Superbagnères in the Fog</a></h3> </header> <div class="entry-content"> <p>BAGNÈRES DE LUCHON, FRANCE</p> <p>Arriving in St. Lary-Soulan I passed through Arreau which was our start location for riding last year when I was on a Trek Travel trip. I was driving a small portion of tomorrow’s stage to Luz-Ardiden. I noticed the tour route signs and thought how neat it would be to have one after the Tour goes by.</p> <p>I met <strong>Adrian Register</strong> at the Hotel Mercure in St. Lary and we drove over to Luchon. It was chilly, perhaps about 60° (15° C). We drove through town and were having a hard time finding a legal place to park. We found a space on the street and Adrian talked to a small business owner whether we could park there or not. He offered to let us park in his small parking lot in front of his store. Very nice.</p> <p>Adrian and I planned to ride the Port de Bales. But Adrian talked to the business owner and he advised against it. A heavy storm last night brought down a number of rocks on the road. We changed and decided on Superbagnères. He advised our proposed climb was “pretty easy.” We think he was being sarcastic.</p> <div class="wp-block-image"><figure class="aligncenter size-large"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" width="468" height="625" src="https://peaceonabike.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/SB-01.jpeg" alt="" class="wp-image-6278" srcset="https://peaceonabike.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/SB-01.jpeg 468w, https://peaceonabike.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/SB-01-225x300.jpeg 225w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 468px) 100vw, 468px" /><figcaption>A sign near Arreau</figcaption></figure></div> <p>We left town and started climbing immediately. The scenery was stunning even as a light rain started to fall. Conditions turned worse. We talked about turning around but wanted to finish the climb. </p> <figure class="wp-block-image size-large"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" width="837" height="623" src="https://peaceonabike.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/SB-02.jpeg" alt="" class="wp-image-6277" srcset="https://peaceonabike.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/SB-02.jpeg 837w, https://peaceonabike.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/SB-02-300x223.jpeg 300w, https://peaceonabike.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/SB-02-768x572.jpeg 768w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 767px) 89vw, (max-width: 1000px) 54vw, (max-width: 1071px) 543px, 580px" /></figure> <p>Superbagnères is a ski station The climb is listed as 18.5 km and climbs 1,170 meters (6.3%). It rises to 1,800 meters (5,905 feet). It has been used in the Tour six times, most recently in 1986 when <strong>Greg LeMond </strong>and<strong> Bernard Hinault</strong> battled up the slope and again in 1989.</p> <figure class="wp-block-image size-large"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" width="835" height="611" src="https://peaceonabike.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/SB-03.jpeg" alt="" class="wp-image-6276" srcset="https://peaceonabike.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/SB-03.jpeg 835w, https://peaceonabike.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/SB-03-300x220.jpeg 300w, https://peaceonabike.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/SB-03-768x562.jpeg 768w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 767px) 89vw, (max-width: 1000px) 54vw, (max-width: 1071px) 543px, 580px" /></figure> <p>The cold rain started on the descent. We were unprepared. We had to be careful on the wet roads but hurried back to Luchon as fast as we could.</p> <p>We were both so cold and wet when we got back to the car we kept the heat on high all the way back to St. Lary.</p> <figure class="wp-block-image size-large"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" width="834" height="619" src="https://peaceonabike.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/SB-04.jpeg" alt="" class="wp-image-6275" srcset="https://peaceonabike.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/SB-04.jpeg 834w, https://peaceonabike.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/SB-04-300x223.jpeg 300w, https://peaceonabike.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/SB-04-768x570.jpeg 768w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 767px) 89vw, (max-width: 1000px) 54vw, (max-width: 1071px) 543px, 580px" /><figcaption>Adrian Register</figcaption></figure> <p>We also noticed as we passed through Arreau that the directional signs were gone. And appeared in the windows of the campers along the route. I would never remove the sign before a stage but apparently many do. These are the best souvenirs from the Tour. My mission would be to find a sign after the Tour. A very difficult mission for sure.</p> <figure class="wp-block-image size-large"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" width="833" height="624" src="https://peaceonabike.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/SB-05.jpeg" alt="" class="wp-image-6274" srcset="https://peaceonabike.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/SB-05.jpeg 833w, https://peaceonabike.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/SB-05-300x225.jpeg 300w, https://peaceonabike.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/SB-05-768x575.jpeg 768w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 767px) 89vw, (max-width: 1000px) 54vw, (max-width: 1071px) 543px, 580px" /><figcaption>Barry at 5900′</figcaption></figure> <hr class="wp-block-separator"/> <iframe src="https://ridewithgps.com/embeds?type=trip&id=313159&title=Superbagn%C3%A8res&sampleGraph=true" style="width: 1px; min-width: 100%; height: 700px; border: none;" scrolling="no">

July 5, 2011July 23, 2015

Happy 4th

STERLING, VA

Happy 4th of July!

Today I parked near Dulles Airport and rode to Loudoun County H.S. in Leesburg to join a 60 mile ride around Loudoun County visiting quaint little towns celebrating the 4th of July. By visiting I mean rolling through without stopping.

I was better suited to a solo ride today. A solo ride affords me the opportunity to stop and take pictures and the little towns were sure beautiful, all decorated in red, white, and blue. And there was no better picture than a beautiful red barn outfitted in American flags. But I stayed with my group.

We rode through Waterford to Lovettsville, then Hillsboro to Round Hill. At Round Hill I broke off from the group. They had planned to ride down to Airmont then back to Purcellville. That would give them 60 miles.

I headed back on Rte 7 through Purcellville and Hamilton and back to Leesburg cutting a little off the ride knowing I had an extra 20 miles in my legs.

In contrast to the 100 miles in America’s Most Beautiful Ride, today my legs felt awful. I hated not to stay with the group although our group was down to four riders. But I knew to listen to my body.

I stopped by Loudoun Golf and Country Club. But my son-in-law, Byran Snow, the golf pro there, was on vacation.

I stopped in Leesburg for a Gatorade. I stopped on the trail just outside of Leesburg looking for more water. It didn’t work. I stopped at Smith’s Switch Station where at least they had water.

In the end, 70 miles was enough today. Recoup. Rehydrate. And celebrate another year of life.

June 26, 2011September 15, 2020

The Problem With Roadies

SOMERSET, PENNSYLVANIA

Long before I owned a road bike, I was riding long distances and generally hating roadies. Now that I am one, I generally hate roadies. Well, dislike them.

Early in the season, I rode by myself from The Plains, Va. to Naked Mountain, and then some country roads. On the drive back I stopped at the Sheetz in Haymarket and saw Vince Amodeo next to the road. I went over to talk with him and learned he had been on a 50-mile group ride, by invitation, and within the first five miles, the group dropped him and a couple of other riders. The Problem With Roadies.

Yesterday I rode to Fredericksburg and yelled out five times “Morning!” to roadies I passed. The number of responses I got back? None. The Problem With Roadies.

Roadies are perceived as arrogant and snobbish. We ARE arrogant and snobbish. We don’t say hi to others when they call out. We drop riders who are a little bit slower than us.

I love to ride but I don’t want to be perceived as a roadie. Let me always enjoy the ride but always remember why I ride. To have fun. Slow down. Talk a little. Wait for those who are slower. And I can say that because I have been dropped many more times than I have had to wait for others.

Yesterday I started on the valley floor near Bedford, Pennsylvania. Following Pa. Bicycle Route “S” I went through New Baltimore but saw a sign for a covered bridge. Even though I was in a hurry to get to my niece, Emily Cramer’s, graduation party/picnic, I also took the time to stop and admire the bridge.

The road stayed flat, although in actuality it had been tilted slightly up for the first couple of miles. But once I turned on Wambaugh Hollow Road it turned up in a hurry. There were grades of 13-14% on this road as it crossed under the Pennsylvania. Turnpike. The Turnpike would go through Allegheny Mountain. I would ride over it on Pa. Rte. 31.

It was a nine-mile climb over the mountain and then had some extreme rollers all the way into Somerset. I was enjoying the descents and climbs too when I thought I saw someone far ahead. At first, I thought it was a cyclist. Then a walker. Then a tractor. Whatever it was was still pretty far away.

I had to climb then crest another hill and thought I would have caught it but when I went over the top I didn’t see a thing. I figured he turned off on a country side road. But on the next climb I saw and then caught him.

“It” was a fully loaded bike with gear off both sides and the back. The rider was standing and pedaling to get all that weight up the hill. I quickly closed the gap and then blew by him. As I did I asked “Where did you come from and where are you going?”

He replied “New York” and said he was following Rte 31. I told him I would wait at the top of the hill.

And so I met Rolf. From Denmark.

He told me he was going to get something to eat in Somerset and I told him I would take him to a picnic. And so I did.

We showed up at Emily’s picnic and he was able to eat as much as he wanted.

Rolf had a wedding present and nice clothes on his bike for a couple who were getting married in Vancouver. On July 9. He’s not going to make it.

But everyday he rides until about 6:00 p.m. Then finds a place to sleep.

His adventures have taken him from Alaska to South America. Just following the wind. And the road. And occasionally with help and guidance of people he meets along the way. People who say hi. People who slow down and wait for others. I am glad I waited. The Problem With Roadies.

People often comment and ask how I meet the most interesting people. Just slow down. Wait. Say hello.

June 20, 2011September 15, 2020

A Different Father’s Day Ride

MARSHALL, VIRGINIA

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.

Today there were dark clouds, and even a little rain, but no metaphors.

There was a Potomac Pedalers “CC” ride out of Marshall, the Blue Ridger, 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

June 5, 2011August 31, 2020

America’s Most Beautiful Bike Ride

SOUTH LAKE TAHOE, CALIFORNIA

Recovery continues.

Last year I set some cycling goals for my recovery. Well, not so much goals as trips. Return to Mount Washington. Go to France.

The excitement of doing this ride faded as time got closer. An unfavorable weather forecast and the feeling that I wasn’t quite ready to pack everything I needed contributed. My bike was being repaired and this was to be my dry run of tearing it down and flying with it before I flew to France next month. I became apprehensive.

My bike was not ready and my local bike shop gave me a rental/demo and that was the bike I would fly with. I flew into Reno yesterday then drove to South Lake Tahoe for check-in. It was cold and rainy. I hoped for better for the ride although the forecast was a high of 52° and showers.

Out of the hotel by 5:00 a.m. this morning, I crossed the mountain to Stateline, Nevada where the ride would begin. It was cold and raining, hard at times. I grabbed my jacket but at 5:55 a.m. the rain stopped. I decided not to wear my cold weather shoe covers. Nor did I wear a base layer under my jersey. And I simply forgot my headcover to go under my helmet. I would regret those decisions.

I was in line at 6:00 a.m., the earliest departure group from the Horizon Casino. I wasn’t that close to the front but think that in addition to the 15-minute interval start times they may have been sending us off in 5-minute groups as well. It was “wheels down” at 6:07 a.m. Then it started raining. On the roll-out, and it was an easy ride, we passed a bank that displayed the temperature — 38°.

There was something about today that I never experienced before on a ride. In the first 10 miles, it was effortless and that was due to more than just a basic flat profile. I felt I could ride forever.

There were 3,300 registered participants but I wonder how many Californians and Nevadans simply bagged it because of the bad weather? This is Team in Traning’s (TNT) premier century event and 1,500 slots were taken by the TNT riders. Their bib numbers were purple whereas everyone else wore red. Throughout much of the day, I felt like we were crashing their party although we had them outnumbered. It just didn’t seem that way. So I joined them. I “low fived” TNT supporters at many places along the course. I yelled “Team” when I saw them and I encouraged the hundreds of TNT riders I passed on the road.

I would have liked to have been a TNT rider but was told by one of my ref crews a few weeks ago that the fundraising goal was “too high” to go to Tahoe. I asked a DC rider and was told $3900. Having raised $10,000 for LIVESTRONG, I didn’t think I could go to the well again for a free trip to ride. Also, I was not committed to the training aspect, listed as 4-5 months, to get riders ready for their first century ride. I’ve done plenty at that distance and while it would have been fun helping train or coach others, I didn’t have the time available for such a commitment.

I talked to a lot of people along the way. Almost everyone I passed I said “Morning” to (an abbreviated form of Good Morning) and for many, I asked where they were from. Many of the TNT folks had jerseys with their locations so I made it a point to talk to National Capital Area and Western Pa. riders. Go Stillers!

Around mile 7 or 8 one rider was beside me and we must have been going the same speed.

“Where are you from?”

“Marin”

Nice. We struck up a conversation and Rodrigo Garcia Brito would be my ride partner the rest of the way. It started like most conversations but we soon were riding the same speed and we just stuck together.

Facing a long day in the saddle, cold and wet, one could complain or simply go have fun. I went to have fun.

The climb up Emerald Bay was nice and we passed many riders. I checked my heart rate. It was in the 130s. Rodrigo said his was in the 160s. It was effortless going up the 9-10% grade. I knew then it would be a good day. While I froze.

I told Rodrigo that I remembered being here 15 years ago and there was a scenic view stop on the right. We had been on spring break vacation. We came to Tahoe and there was lots of snow in the mountains. Bethany was 15, Ashley 10, and Andrew 7. In town, we had seen some guy and it was almost that he was stalking us. Everywhere we went he was right behind. Creepy.

We drove up to Emerald Point and admired the view and the snow. As we were leaving this stalker drove up. He got out of his car and promptly fell on his ass. It was one of those moments that you shouldn’t laugh but the kids about busted a gut laughing so hard. And we did too. We never saw him after that.

I knew that I would have to stop for a photo op. And we found it. It was the first rest area too although we did not stop to rest or take on any food. Just a picture. In the freezing rain.

We continued in the rain with a brief stop on a descent when Rodrigo’s sunglasses fell off. I stopped and eventually went back. By then a number of people had gathered. First, a car came by and just crushed his glasses. Second, by stopping, one rider crashed. Oops.

We made it to our first rest stop, used the porta-johns, took on some food, made a seat adjustment, then took off. We were both near hypothermic. I was shivering, shaking, and just couldn’t warm up. Riding in the cold was fine but that 10-15 minute break cooled us down. It would take about 10 minutes to warm up once we were back on the road.

Rodrigo is a big guy. He appears very strong and this was evident when we turned on Route 89 at Tahoe City to head to Truckee. With all the rain it was not a time to follow someone’s wheel like we normally ride. All you got was a mouthful of road spray. Rodrigo gapped me and kept going, at times was about 100 yards out in front. I couldn’t match his pace on this downhill portion. But we came back together.

On the way back from Truckee to Tahoe City along the Truckee River, it was uphill and we stayed together. More than 50 miles had passed quickly and we stopped briefly at the Squaw Valley entrance – this the site of the 1960 Winter Olympics.

Although we saw some dark clouds ahead, we rolled into King’s Beach just as the sun was coming out and it warmed up to 50°, which seemed like 80°. Nice. We were greeted at the rest stop by Rodrigo’s family. His wife brought him new glasses. Very nice. And she warned of heavy rains ahead. Not so nice. And she would be right.

We spent a lot of time at this stop. It was the lunch stop and I had a turkey sub. And lots of snacks. The food here was great. Rodrigo spent time with his family. We ate.

On the day I spent two hours off the bike. That is very unusual for me as I like to stop at 2-3 stops for a natural break, refill the bottles, then grab some food and eat while on the bike.

With Rodrigo’s wife and kids here, plenty of good food, and the warmth of the sun even though it was only in the low 50s, we probably stayed close to one hour at this stop.

As we rolled out, Rodrigo, a one-time veteran of this ride, warned me about Incline Village. A number of the rich and famous have second homes here and I have been told that includes Brad Pitt and Bruce Jenner and the Kardashians. Maybe/maybe not. But Mike Love (Beach Boys) and Michael Milken do live here. (Read it on Wikipedia so it must be true.)

There’s a fake eagle suspended by wires above this house

If there was a place that I lost speed compared to the normal terrain it was here. Although there was a three-mile stretch of straight road along Crystal Bay, there were plenty of stop signs each with a volunteer or policeman to make sure bikes stayed in single file and each one stopped completely at the stop sign. A bit ridiculous that four bikes with no traffic following couldn’t roll-up side by side, slow down to 2-3 mph, then take off. But those are their rules and we played by them.

We turned back onto Rte 28 for the ride up Spooner Summit. Here a real break occurred in the riders. Riding casually, we had been passed by two women of the DC Chapter of TNT. We soon caught them and they had joined a group of six or seven, all riding single file on Rte 28. We stayed together until the road turned up. One of the women dropped. So did Rodrigo. The woman I was following passed everyone until there was just the two of us.
It started raining again. Heavy this time. The rain turned to sleet. There was just the two of us until she dropped. Then it was just me on the climb.

I passed one woman who asked how many miles we had ridden. I looked down and told her 82. She didn’t believe me and then I said “if you’re riding 100.” She said wasn’t. There were 72 (no trip to Truckee) and 35-mile (boat across the lake) options too.

Just minutes before this photo this rest stop was covered by hail stones

One week ago I sucked. It hurt going up Skyline Drive and it hurt more going up Massanutten. I thought Father Time finally caught up to me. And I was ready to quit. Visions of leading C and D rides danced through my head.

And now at Mile 80, my legs felt as fresh as the first thing in the morning. Never have I ridden 80 miles and my legs felt like this. I wish I knew the secret. No, it’s not EPO or Clenbuterol.

What was different about the three or four days prior to this ride that was different about SkyMass? Too much riding? Too little riding? Nutrition? Altitude?

Not only did I climb well, the entire ride was from 6,000 feet to 7,100 feet except for the dip to Truckee which was 5,900 feet. I thought less O2 in the air meant fewer blood cells and less recovery. More soreness. I don’t know.

Tunnel on U.S. Rte 50 back to South Lake Tahoe, Ca.

From Spooner Summit it was about a 14-mile descent to the finish line with a few rollers at the end. I had been warned that the route was not quite 100 miles so I passed the finish line and circled back to make it 100.

I’ve never been dirtier from a ride than this one. Just lots of sand along the road made worse by the rain. We rode 32 miles in steady or heavy rain but 68 miles without it. Of course when we weren’t being rained on we were still soaked. My white cycling socks will never be white again and I wonder if they will ever dry out.

Brand new bike never been ridden before. Filthy. Sorry.

But I’ve never felt fresher after a ride than this one. No soreness. It wasn’t my best time on the bike but I wasn’t going for time. I just never felt better during or after a ride of this length. In addition, the weather conditions made it a test of willpower.

Logistically, I wanted to do this as a test trip before I go to France. That passed. I built and tore down the bike and am comfortable with those minor repairs. Last year I went to France with Trek Travel and they supplied the bikes. In a few weeks, I will be going on my own and carrying my own bike.

This was a day reserved for appreciating beauty and celebrating being cancer-free. Not only was this one of my recovery goals it was also National Cancer Survivors Day. I never thought I’d do a six-hour century (riding time) here and I didn’t try. With the slow down and stops in Incline Village, the most stop lights I have encountered on a century ride, and a slow rollout at the beginning, I had no dreams of anything less than seven hours on the bike.

Just one week after suffering on SkyMass, I felt great on the bike. Father Time, I guess it’s not my time. Yet.