Bike Virginia - peaceonabike

January 1, 2013January 6, 2022

Reflections on the Year – 2012

WOODBRIDGE, VIRGINIA

This does and does not lend itself to a Top Ten list. I like to do a Top “Ten” because 10 is such a nice number. But for a year that began hoping I’d go to Italy or Ride the Rockies, I had to settle for something less. At least that’s what I thought. A year in which I rode more than any year before (6,500 miles) there are too many memories to narrow them to just 10.

It was a year in which I did not have a week without a ride. As for what defines a “ride,” I do not count the miles running “errands” including 0.5 mile to the Mall in D.C. at lunchtime to play Ultimate Frisbee. I define a “ride” as just that — it has to be a minimum of 10 miles to make my count. But I did count one ride of less than 10 miles – the 7.6 miles up Mount Washington. Was that wrong?

In all I had 10 days of more than 100 miles in the saddle.

My Top Ten (or 11)

1. Mt. Washington Auto Road Bicycle Hillclimb – When I first started dreaming about climbing the big mountains in Europe, I discovered Mount Washington. I wanted to do it once and now have ridden it five straight years. This year was crazy because I had all but decided not to go then changed my mind, drove up Friday morning, arrived late Friday, did the race on Saturday, then drove home Saturday night, arriving just after midnight. I remember this one most for the uber nice Gabinksi family who gave me a ride down the mountain: Vic, Alison, Alexa, and Lucas.

The Last 50 Yards

The 50 yards before the last 50 yards

2. Bike Virginia – I looked forward to Bike Virginia for a chance to ride with my cousin, Kay Walborn. We didn’t ride much, mainly because she was on course each day before I could ride to the course since I elected to stay at Bethany’s and Ashley’s places. But we rode some. I also rode with a former work colleague, John Dockins. But mostly I remember being struck by a car. That hurt. But I survived.

Barry with cousin Kay
(Don’t know the dork in the background)

John Dockins, Barry Sherry

3. Pedal Pal – Let me be clear – I wish I didn’t know what it was to have cancer. But I am a survivor and that has opened some new opportunities for me including being a Pedal Pal for Patrick Sheridan. I rode out on Day 1 with Team San Francisco from Baltimore to Alexandria and rode in with them on Day 70 from Mill Valley, Ca. to San Francisco. But it was mostly about Team Portland and Chey Hillsgrove supporting Jake the Hero Grecco.

Chris, Lauren, Patrick, Jeff

Patrick Sheridan, Barry Sherry

4. Mt. Tam – My friend, Eric Scharf, always said “you have to ride Mt. Tam.” And so I finally did. I was on a rental bike and missed my Trek Pilot. I really missed my bike. This bike didn’t have the climbing gears my bike did and I was suffering. But the best “compliment” may have been made by Kevin Barnett, when he asked what we did with Peter (Bai) who rode with Rodrigo Garcia Brito and me that day. Kevin said Peter came in immediately after the ride and crashed.

Peter Bai

View from Mt. Tam

5. Mt. Shasta Summit Century – While on the west coast I found the Mt. Shasta Summit Summit Century. Like Mt. Tam, I wasn’t on my own bike but a steel touring bike lent to me by Deron Cutright, a friend from our Trek Travel trip to France two years ago. Beautiful scenery and some pretty long climbs.

View of Mount Shasta

Early morning at the ride start

6. 24 Hours of Booty – My first Booty and it won’t be my last one. While I joined Team BootyStrong, in Columbia, Md., I rode in memory of Jake and established a team for 2013 – Jake’s Snazzy Pistols.

7. RAGBRAI – Every cyclist must ride across Iowa once and this was the year it worked out for me. I can’t say it is my kind of event because it is much too crowded but I enjoyed the point to point riding each day. And I killed the mileage knocking out 700 miles in a week of riding from South Dakota to Illinois.

Tractor at a road side Farm stand

8. Jeremiah Bishop’s Alpine Loop Gran Fondo – This is a fund raiser for some local charities including the Prostate Cancer Awareness Project. I invited Chey Hillsgrove to join me and we had a great ride until he crashed out.

Barry, Chey

9. Riding with Dad – I never went for a ride with my dad until he turned 82. Memorial Day weekend we rode on the Great Allegheny Passage between Frostburg, Md. and Meyersdale, Pa.

My dad, me, angry sister

10. Civil War Century – One of my favorite rides but wasn’t a century. Cut dangerously short at Mile 75 by severe weather I took a shortcut back to the start. I returned five weeks later and rode to Gettysburg by myself to finish the ride.

The Road Back to Start in Thurmont

Rest Stop at South Mountain

11. Livestrong Gala and Challenge — Given the 1,000 page report by the USADA outlining systematic doping at U.S. Postal and Lance Armstrong, I am still sorting out my thoughts. But thousands of cancer fighters not named Lance support and are served by Livestrong. It was fun being among them, and Lance, for a weekend in Austin.

Always ride for Jake

With 6,500 miles on my butt for 2012, I now have surpassed 10,000 miles for two years and 15,000 for three years. Cancer-free. I can’t predict where 2013 will take me although I would like to do Bike Across Kansas if the route is right and Ride the Rockies. A trip to Europe would be nice. And maybe a repeat of Bike Virginia. As for the Mt. Washington Hillclimb, I just received my private registration code since I have ridden it five consecutive years but don’t know if I will do that one again (I said I wouldn’t and I mean maybe).

The best rides are just following the road ahead and I’ll go where the road leads as long as my health permits.

Peace!

June 28, 2012July 23, 2015

Dead Legs

CATHARPIN, VA

The last day of Bike Virginia, I had to decide to ride with my cousin, Kay Walborn, one last time, my friends, John Dockins or Vince Amodeo, or something different. Initially I thought I’d roll out with Bike Virginia until the 50 mile mark then head home and ride another 60 miles. In the end I decided to just ride home – a distance of 70-80 miles, depending on which roads I took.

The Bike Virginia folks rolled out starting at 7:00 a.m. and at 7:44 a.m. I got a message from John:

“Major crash. Road closed. Car hit bike.”

“Very somber ride today. People have seen chest compressions on the biker.“

I was glad not to be in the group today. I can ride comfortably as one or one in the 2,000. I took the roads I knew and ended up on Kabletown Road. I was surprised when after pulling over to check the message from John a Bike Virginia rider pulled up and asked me if she was on the right road. She must have left at 6:00 a.m. I assured her she was.

Kabletown Road was part of the Bike Virginia route but not until their Mile 40 or so. I simply took a short cut from Ashley’s place over to it to get me home and expected to see no one today since that would put me far in front of the event.

With today’s route one could not get lost. Headed south, you are bordered on the east by the Shenandoah River, on the west by Rte 340, and on the south by Rte 7. Either 340 or 7 takes one to Berryville, the ending location.

But that should not be an issue. Bike Virginia had perhaps the best signage of any supported event I have been on, except perhaps Livestrong-Philly. Up at 4:30 a.m., volunteers were placing signs and cones, and even using some flagmen (and flag women) at dangerous locations.

I continued on, passing the rider, and was first to arrive at the last rest stop of the ride, Moose Apple Christmas Tree Farm.

Moss Apple Christmas Tree Farm

The owner was a retired teacher from Fairfax Co. He has 25,000 trees planted. And sells some stain glass and other crafts on the side. It’s a real neat place. I even passed a turkey going in.

At 8:45 a.m., I was almost two hours ahead of the planned arrival and they were surprised and honored me. They took pictures of this rider. Number One!

I stayed for close to an hour, almost feeling that I had to stay until other riders showed up. Within an hour one did, then another, then my friend John. After a few more minutes it was time to go.

It was bittersweet that I was leaving Bike Virginia. I turned off the route and was now unsupported.

Note to self: The two mile section one has to ride on Route 7 eastbound is very scary. I’m thinking Rte 9 may be safer, especially once the new bypass is in and most of the traffic is off it.

I followed Rte 7 to Snickersville Turnpike and don’t remember a rougher time climbing. I had dead legs. They weren’t sore or didn’t ache. They were just dead. No power. And Snickersville is not flat. It has lots of steep drops and steep climbs. Ugh.

I thought I’d try Rte 234 – Sudley Road and that wasn’t the best option either. No shoulder and 55 mph traffic. At 52 miles in, I heard something break and immediately stopped. It was a spoke on the rear wheel.

With nowhere to go, I could not repair it, I called a cab for the final 27 miles. And fell asleep in someone’s yard.

EPILOGUE — The cyclist died.

The cyclist, a Corning, N.Y., man taking part in the Bike Virginia Tour was in critical condition at Winchester Medical Center Wednesday afternoon after having a heart attack while bicycling through Jefferson County, according to the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Department. He died at the Winchester Medical Center late Wednesday night.

It is a somber reminder that this sport that I love is inherently dangerous. And there, but for the Grace of God, go I. Hit by a car with an awkward fall on Saturday, I could have landed badly and died. And faced with what must have been a slow speed crossing of those tracks, it was a freak accident that his awkward landing may have induced his cardiac arrest.

Rest in Peace, Mr. Mark Hogan. 🙁

Live each day to the fullest. And enjoy the journey.

June 27, 2012July 23, 2015

Riding for Jake

CHARLES TOWN, WV

I was excited this morning because I wanted to take a page out of the book of my friends doing the 4K for Cancer ride across the United States. Each day these 90 young people write the name of a cancer patient or survivor or someone who has lost the battle on their calves. I had my son-in-law, Bryan Snow, write the name of Jake Grecco, a true super hero, on my calves.

Just 8 years old and battling brain cancer, Jake has taken chemo, radiation, and even brain surgery in stride. Weakened by my lengthy rides, I felt energized today riding with Jake’s name on my calves.

I arranged to meet with old friend and co-worker, John Dockins, in front of the Trek Tent, and we rolled out at 7:30 a.m. On the road he started to hammer it although we settled into a good pace (which means we passed everybody) but we were joined by two others. For the first 15 miles four of us worked together in the heavy winds, which would be present all day.

Following a tractor. You know, we go the same speed
as a tractor but nobody yells or throws things at a tractor.

We had caught a tractor pulling some machinery at 20-22 mph. Perfect. We pulled in behind him and he created the perfect wind block. We rode in his draft for about two miles before he turned off. Rest Stop #1 was at the Summit Point Raceway. It was pretty cool. Some riders took to the race track for extra miles.

Rest Stop at Summit Point

Rolling out of the rest stop, we formed a new group with some men and women and hammered home with them. After the second rest stop, it got real funky.

Almost from the start today my legs hadn’t recovered. I thought my body was weakening having ridden 300 miles in three days.

John took off from Rest Stop #2 dropping me. I was never more than 50-100 meters behind him but there the two of us went, passing everyone along the way, John, followed by me, trailing 50-100 meters later. The wind was very heavy and John seemed stronger cutting through the wind than I did. I chased for six miles, never pulling him back but never closing the gap. And I was getting pissed.

I wondered what he was thinking and later he said he thought I had dropped back to talk to some people and would catch him when I wanted to. I wasn’t buying that. In this wind he was stronger.

John Dockins, Barry Sherry

Although the two of us had been passing people for six miles, I was going nowhere until I was passed by two riders. That quickly became three when I jumped on their wheels. Perfect.

It was the perfect tow back up to John. As we got ready to pass him I tried to sneak past without him seeing me. But he did and he jumped on and briefly made four in our group.

But shortly after that the two guys in front passed a car that was going slow up a hill and I joined them. John initially came but clunked his gears and he was gone. Just like that.

If John truly thought that I was behind him and could catch him anytime I feel like it what I did then was a crappy move. But if he was going full out in the wind without regard for his friend then it was payback. Big time.

We joined up with some other riders and alternated the workload. One guy came to the front with about three miles to go to the rest stop and hammered it. He was a big rider and was “nose in the wind” going about 23 mph. I sat second wheel and felt like half the time I was coasting.

This guy (left) rocked it! Best “pull” of the five days.

After a lunch break, we hit the road. After 43 miles of hammering, it was time for solo work. John and I left the rest stop for one mile then he would take the cutoff road and skip the climbing loop. I turned onto the climb. It was a formidable two and a half mile hill, and one by one I started passing people on the climb. I’m sure I didn’t catch everyone, but I passed five or six and wasn’t passed by anyone.

Once over the top I bombed the descent and caught and passed 15-20 riders in the valley leading to the next rest stop.

At the stop one woman saw Jake’s name on my legs and made a smart ass comment: “Do you name your shoes too so you can get the right legs in the right shoes?”

I was pissed. And hurt. I told her quietly that I was riding for my 8-year old cousin who was battling brain cancer.

I carried that with me the rest of the ride. The thought was we need fewer smart asses in this world and more compassion. I wanted to tell her off but the comment was made by, well, a smart ass trying to be funny and not with malice. Her group took off while I sat down and ate some food.

When I left the rest stop I wanted nothing more than to catch the woman who insulted my family. They were long gone but I that didn’t stop me from trying.

I immediately hit the next hill. It was a shorter, one and a half miles, but steeper climb. There I passed by 10-15 riders on the climb and, over the top, bombed the descent. Once in the valley I started reeling in riders in front of me – maybe another 30.

Going through Martinsburg was like old home week to me since I know the area pretty well. Hitting the bike trail outside of town I passed 40-50 riders and was passed by none. I really felt strong in miles 80-90. Seriously, in the last 40 miles I was passed by no one.

Getting back, I sat down and ate lunch at the Bike Virginia campus. When it was time to roll out I needed 10 more miles for 100 and 15 for 400 for four days. As good as I felt in miles 80-90, I felt that bad for the next 10 miles. It hit me. I was tired. But I was riding for Jake. And I would finish.

I added enough miles to give me another century then went to Ashley and Bryan’s place and laid down on the floor. I fell asleep. Three centuries in four days. Four hundred miles in four days.

I was very tired.

June 26, 2012July 23, 2015

It’s About the Journey

CHARLES TOWN, WV

Day 3 of Bike Virginia and I didn’t know what the day would hold. And that was part of the fun. I had seen my friend, Vince Amodeo, and had texted my friend, John Dockins, but had not yet seen him.

Tents at the Middle School
Flowing Springs Rd in the background

I rolled out and over to the Bike Virginia campus. I thought I’d meet my cousin, Kay Walborn, but she wasn’t out and on the road yet when I rolled out. So I took off by myself.

Riders turning off Flowing Springs Road

On the road I teamed up with some riders and ended up having a slow day – truly enjoying the journey, as I like to say. The first rest stop, after a harrowing ride on U.S. 11 going to Williamsport, Maryland, was at the Williamsport United Methodist Church. Most rest stops had the same water and Gatorade, fruit and snacks. I suspect Bike Virginia buys the food and the rest stop simply provides the space and volunteers.

Outside the church they had a “blessing of the bikes.” I skipped it since I had already been hit. Inside the church they served noodle soup, fried potatoes, and hot donuts, in addition to the normal fare. Bike Virginia also sponsored a contest for best rest area and this one got my vote. Extra points for not subjecting us to live bluegrass music too.*

Part of the journey was swimming in the Potomac River, although my participation was limited to wading. I didn’t want a squishy butt full of river water in my shorts.

But a number of people did.

Some of these roads were new to me and some weren’t. But most were new to the riders around me and they loved the road in Antietam National Battlefield. Perfect asphalt and no traffic. Nice.

We rode through the park then stopped for a photo op.

Antietam Battlefield

Actually, I was waiting for the all clear sign so that I could absolutely bomb the descent. I put my gear in the big ring and pedaled hard and got in my tuck. It felt like 50 mph. I looked down and my Garmin was — off.

Oh well. I will have to come back on my own and try that one again. The road is perfect – smooth pavement, no traffic, straight as an arrow down then rises on the other side. No turns.

After lunch in Sharpsburg, those cyclists “in the know” went back to Nutters for ice cream. It was an excellent way to finish.

At the end of the day I turned a planned 57-mile ride into a 73-mile ride but didn’t feel like stretching it beyond that.

_________
*EPILOGUE – This rest stop did win best rest stop award. Noodle soup, hot fried potatoes, and freshly cooked donuts in addition to the blessing of the bikes. Wonderful job!

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.