Last year I rode my first 24 Hours of Booty not knowing anyone in attendance other than through a cyber invitation from Bryan McMillan. We had never met before then. But I had a good time and soon discovered some of the summer cancer riders were there as well.
Team Fight
This year I decided to be a team captain. Officially we were Team Jake’s Snazzy Pistols, in honor and in memory of Jake “The Hero” Grecco. I signed up his step-father, Gary Gravina, my sister, Betsy Sherry, and John Phipps, a friend I met a couple of years ago while riding the Saint Mary’s Century (or was it the Southern Maryland Century?).
Barry, Betsy, John
A couple of days before the event I heard from Gary who mixed up the event dates and could not attend. That was a big set back. But I still looked forward to the event. Our pistols wouldn’t be as snazzy now.
Early morning in Bootyville
Last year I knew no one in advance. This year some of my Key West teammates attended as well as last year’s cancer riders, Jeff Graves and Erin Mack.
I decided to tent, still not sure that was a good idea, but arrived early enough to set up the tent. With not much time before the start, I joined fellow survivors at the front of the line for the Survivor Lap, which I think is really half a lap. Meg Shipman, Paul Lemle, Jessica Tanner, and Thomas Backof from the Key West ride, all were at the front.
After the first lap (I won) I dropped back and rode with my sister. I introduced her to all my friends I could find. While I rode at a decent pace, I talked more than I did last year and didn’t rack up the miles. I also had more fun.
I carried a wooden “train” whistle. As I approached the kids that were riding I gave it my best train whistle sound. That always got smiles. It slowed me down but that was OK.
I was invited to the Yellow Jersey Dinner and took Betsy as my guest. It was the same dinner menu as the other riders got but with speakers. Less riding.
My wind fairing (deflector)
After 6:00 p.m., my friend, Adam Lewandowski, came over from Race Pace Bicycles to work and brought a Trek Domane for me to test ride. Even less riding while we switched pedals and put my lights on that bike.
By 9:00 p.m. John had reached 100 miles and was checking out for the night. He had a hotel. I was envious. Real envious.
Last year I rode until the Midnight Pizza arrived and my light gave out. I had 120 miles at that point. This year I had to lift the pace to get 100 miles before midnight. After Midnight Pizza I decided to get some sleep. This would not be the year I would actually ride for 24 hours. I don’t know if I would try that. Maybe some day.
By 6:00 a.m. I was awake and went out on the course at 6:30.
Breakfast, by invitation, was a Survivors Breakfast. It was the same breakfast (menu) as everyone else got but we had speakers. More down time. This is not to diminish the speakers. They were all good.
After breakfast I had a great surprise. Last year Team Portland was greatly effected by Jake’s story, and ultimately, his passing. I had met Jake’s Pedal Pal, Chey Hillsgrove, on the day they left Baltimore, but had been friended on Facebook by one of the riders, Trish Kallis.
And after breakfast there she (Trish) was. She called my name. I was taken aback certainly not expecting to see her here. It was great to finally meet her.
Trish and Barry
Late morning we tore down our campsite. More time off the bike. But I rode when I could. Ultimately I got in another 41 miles before we all joined in for the last lap at 2:00 p.m.
Great weather, great friends, and fighting cancer. It really doesn’t get any better than this.
This wasn’t a day for riding but a day of celebration honoring Team Seattle’s finish. They started 70 days earlier and traveled more than 4,000 miles. I had promised my friend, Chey Hillsgrove, that if he did this ride I would greet him at the end.
Bremerton, Wash.
I stayed in Bremerton and checked the ferry schedule while at breakfast. I could hurry to make the 7:20 a.m. ferry or take my time for the 8:45 a.m. I took my time. I was first in line for the ferry – I must have just missed the 7:20 boat – and the guy in the booth encouraged me to go for a bike ride. What a great idea. I saw Bremerton on a bike.
Bremerton, Wash.
I arrived in Seattle and looked for Pike Place Market. I parked the car and then went for a bike ride. The waterfront was crowded and wasn’t as bike-friendly as Portland but I also found a waterfront bike path, the Elliott Bay Trail, which was nice. I checked the time and decided to cut the ride short to arrive in plenty of time.
Chey and Shelby
My friends, Kimber and Dale Polley had brought milkshakes and pizza for the riders. And my friends, Amy and Randall Hopkins, and their family, also joined the celebration (I think they came to see me).
Two Batmans. Chey and Zach. Credit: Amy Hopkins
The team arrived to cheers from their families and friends. They were quite giddy. Or silly. Or goofy.* Chey and Shelby Perkins, the team leaders each spoke and then invited a representative from the organization to talk about what the organization does. The representative was speechless. It was embarrassing. Chey then motioned with his hands – “well, you could tell them about this ride.”
Team Seattle. The End.
I’m not sure what the organization had for the riders except that Kimber had been trying for weeks to organize pizza and milkshakes. She finally did that on her own without a blessing from the organization.
Barry and Chey
It was truly a very awkward closing ceremony but their friends and family got to see one last cheer. And that was cool. They drowned out the guy performing close to them with a chainsaw.
I was offered (or selected) the chance to ride a century (100 miles) today along with my teammates, Jimmy Kondisko, Chris Zahlis, and Meg Shipman. It appeared to me, and my teammates, that we were selected as the strongest riders and most likely to be able to complete a century ride. But logistically it was doomed from the start.
Saint Marys, Georgia before sunrise
We left the hotel and faced a two-hour drive. From day to day we never knew who we would be riding with or where we would start, or finish, so to ask us to ride a mystery 100 miles was a bit of a stretch. Especially so when we learned it would take a two-hour drive to get there. Or more importantly, how about telling us the day before so we could fuel, and sleep, properly?
Saint Marys, Georgia
This would be the start of a very special day because I was wearing Tepig. Chey Hillsgrove carried Pikachu across the country on his cancer ride to Portland last year to give to Jake the Hero. Instead, Jake’s big brother, Alex Grecco, got Pikachu. Jake’s mother, Stacey Gravina, had Tepig to arrive and he would be carried to Key West and presented to Jake’s younger brother, Josh Grecco. The mileage would not be important as long as Tepig made the trip.
Barry with Pikachu (hitching a free ride)
We arrived at Ormond-On-The-Beach and pushed off into a heavy southerly wind. It would be strong in our face the entire day. The high buildings of Daytona Beach offered some respite from the wind but once out of the protection of the buildings we were being whipped around.
We had a six-hour limit because we needed to be off the course in time for another shuttle ride in a car, this time to our destination, Vero Beach. It wouldn’t happen. The first 18 miles we went through at a 16.5 mph clip which was pretty astonishing given the massive headwinds.
Chris, Meg, Jimmy, Barry
Even at 16.5 mph we were below the 16.7 average we would need. Without stops. But then the group began to falter.
Meg, of slight build, was getting shredded in the wind. We encouraged her to ride third wheel while we took turns up front in the wind. Jimmy was of slight build too so I always looked to latch onto Chris’ wheel.
Barry, arriving Titusville
At New Smyrna Beach we tried to follow the beach route, 1A, and stopped at a 7-Eleven. I started talking to a young couple which led to a discussion that you can’t get there from here. We turned around.
Directions were generally awful on this trip. There was little planning ahead of time. The routes were not communicated to the team ahead of time so no one could load those on their bike computers. And they consisted of wrong turns. And we found one mainly because our route had not been communicated to us.
Back on route we followed U.S. Route 1, a most dangerous road with small shoulders and 60 mph traffic. Unlike two days earlier, we had no one behind us “blocking” for us. It was open season on cyclists for the cars that blew by as one intentionally flew by within 12 inches or so.
Our support driver, Liz Kaplan, had left us to drive back to Jacksonville to pick up the CEO, who was at the Mayo Clinic. We had no support (other than the 7-Eleven). So there were four of us to ride with no support and to bring in the CEO mid-ride so he could go for a bike ride. It was a clown show.
Ultimately, the CEO was able to join as at Mile 53. But he had to wait for him.
We had a strong team. But we weren’t properly notified ahead of time, needed to leave before the dedication circle to have enough time, needed proper directions and support that would stay with us. But it was typical of the way the ride director handled this trip.
Chris, Barry, Jimmy, Meg
As we approached Titusville I saw a high bridge and told the group we would cross the bridge and finish there. You would think that our support or the CEO would be time-aware and know how far to go yet I had to make the call for them. We had a fixed finish time which we would not meet and the park offered stunning vistas. And it looked like a fun bridge to cross so we went.
At the golf club
We put out bikes on the truck and hurried down to Vero Beach to Bent Pine Golf Club where we were guests for the evening. Dinner was hosted by one of our rider’s parents at the golf club. Of course it wasn’t just dinner. It was a fundraiser. We were instructed to sit among members of club and maybe they could get $10,000 of out these folks.
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.
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.
I was very pleased that Chey Hillsgrove could join me for Jeremiah Bishop’s Alpine Loop Gran Fondo Presented by the Prostate Cancer Awareness Project. Chey was Jake Grecco’s Pedal Pal and while I had met him in Baltimore before his cross country trip, I had never ridden with him. So today would be the first day.
Barry Sherry, Chey Hillsgrove
Last night we checked in then went next door to Dave’s Downtown Taverna. By luck, we ran into Erin Bishop, the event director, who invited us to the Gala. That solved our issue of where we would eat. After the ceremonies, we met Robert Hess and his sister, Jodi, as well as Jeremiah Bishop. Robert presented me with a cycling jacket from the Prostate Cancer Foundation Project. My friend, Scott Scudamore was the emcee so we got to see him and his wife, Margaret, as well.
Barry Sherry, Jeremiah Bishop
Today in the parking lot, my cousin, Krissy Harlan, came over from JMU to say hello. When we got called up to the line they called fundraisers followed by cancer survivors. I was the only survivor who went to the front. Strange, I thought. There are more of us.
Krissy Harlan, Barry Sherry
I found myself on the front row with Ben King, racer for Radio Shack-Nissan-Trek. Ben was U.S. National road race champ in 2010. We chatted briefly and had a photo op.
Ben King, Barry Sherry, Robert Hess
As we rolled out I went just one block then pulled over waiting for Chey. As he rolled by I jumped in, moved up and caught him.
Chey was on his new Lightspeed bike and hadn’t yet been fit to it. After 18 miles as we came to the base of the first time climb, we pulled over to adjust his seat. There were probably 15-20 people at this point who had also pulled over. It appeared to be a woodsy-bathroom break too, but not for us. Although we had discussed doing the climbs at your own pace, and I thought he’d pull away from me, I pulled away from him. Chey hadn’t been on a bike since the 4K ended August 4 and his bike was stolen in Tacoma. So it was understandable enough that he had lost his bike fitness.
Barry climbing Shenandoah Mountain
Last year I did this five-mile climb in 48 minutes, just riding at a comfortable pace. And I was passed early by a number of riders. Today was different. Although I was passed by one rider, I pulled back 10 riders on the climb. My time was 35:05. It’s not going to win me any prize but I love seeing the 13-minute improvement over last year. And it was rated eighth out of 18 in my age group so it was above the line.
Top of first climb, Shenandoah Mountain, Virginia-West Virginia border
At the top, I waited for Chey. Then we bombed the descent on US 33. I pulled back another 10 riders on the descent, at one point passing a motorcycle as we both cornered. I was flying. My top speed was 46.7 mph.
After the first rest stop, we came to the Medio/Gran Fondo split, off the main road and up a three-mile dirt/gravel road with 15-18% grades. Rough. Last year I, along with everyone else, walked most of the way as this section was all mud. Today it was dry and while I made it most of the way, there were two sections that had so much gravel I simply dismounted and walked for 100 yards. And I’m not ashamed.
Meadow in the gravel section in West Virginia
As I waited at the top I talked to Richard Canlas, from Texas, who made his way up. He was waiting for his buddy, Ronald “Zeke” Smith, from D.C. Zeke tried the route last year but couldn’t finish so he had his friend from Texas join him. While Richard expressed concern we might miss a cutoff point, I told him whatever happens, happens.Â
It’s a bit of a fixer-upper
After Chey crossed the top we hit a dangerously steep two-mile descent then pulled into the second rest stop. The other two riders pulled in after us but rolled out one minute ahead of us. And then we were last. The last riders on the Gran Fondo course.
As we started to climb, Chey was struggling with his bike. It may have a bottom bracket issue but being set up with a 39 tooth small front ring, the bike was slowing him down. He needed a compact. Still, we rode together and could see the two riders in front of us. I went ahead and caught Zeke who by then was alone. I think minutes before he told Richard to go ahead and make the cutoff without him.
One tough gravel climb
Arriving at the cutoff intersection we were told we had missed the time and would be rerouted over to the Medio climb to get us back on course. No problem. Although Zeke took off, I quickly hit the descent, passing him going 40 mph. When I got through all the sharp curves I sat up and let Zeke catch and pass me. I looked back but didn’t see Chey. At the bottom, I soft-pedaled for Chey to catch up but he didn’t. I was only three miles from the top and I stopped at the rest stop. And waited. After about 10 minutes and asking about Chey we heard he had crashed hard. I was sick.
Some riders think gravel is pretty
Chey’s lack of riding for six weeks plus learning his new bike left him tired. At the Medio/Gran split I should have taken the Medio route. Instead, being macho, we turned up that awful gravel road and Chey started walking almost immediately. That should have been my clue. And now, he crashed. Damn me! I thought I killed Chey.
A few minutes later the SAG van came in and Chey was in it. I saw a smile on his face which was a relief. I hadn’t seen a smile since he began the climb on gravel. He got out and stood up gingerly. He was bleeding and his shorts were ripped up.
The guy running the rest stop was packed up and ready to go. He already had his son in the front seat and could take two passengers and two bikes. The quickest way back to get Chey treatment was to get him back to Harrisonburg. Maybe that was even quicker than calling for an ambulance here in a remote part of West Virginia. And Zeke decided he had had enough. So the two of them took the car back to Harrisonburg.
I headed up the 7.5-mile climb. This was the second climb on the Medio route. It was paved now but last year was dirt. Unlike last year, there was no timing station setup.
Riding in memory of Jake
Jake loved blue butterflies and we are left to wonder about some mysteries in life. I have never seen a blue butterfly in my life. But since Jake left us these blue butterflies seem to appear at the strangest times.
I knew I was last on the course. I had the climb all by myself. As I started off without Chey I became very emotional. I felt that I had pushed Chey to ride the long route. Maybe he even crashed because he was tired. And here I was all alone on this climb. Just as I was to start to cry a blue butterfly fluttered by. What the hell?! I had never seen a blue butterfly before. But I thought of Jake. And I knew that Jake’s Pedal Pal, Chey, would be OK.
My mind turned to the climb. After a mile or so the SAG van passed me then went about 1/4 mile ahead and waited. I passed and the van leapfrogged me. And so it went. I believed the driver was watching the clock and at some point was going to tell me I was beyond the cutoff and to jump in the van. Sometimes he walked down the road looking for me. But I kept the pace and kept going.
I was so sure he was going to pull me off course that I had my speech ready to go. He can’t make me get off the road. He could have my timing chip and my race number but I have the right to the road. I was going to finish the ride for Jake and that was bigger than his cutoff time. In fact, I probably had an hour in the bank. But nothing was going to stop me.
Chey getting in the van
Then I started thinking about taking the lanterne rouge award for being the last finisher. Reaching the summit I flew across the top of Reddish Knob and began my descent. I was flying and got halfway down the mountain when I saw a number of riders. I caught the last guy going about 35 mph then tagged him. “You’re last,” I told him. He looked at me not knowing what I was talking about. Then I drifted back – to last – and waited for the SAG van. “I thought you said I could be last.” He laughed at me.
I pedaled ahead and came to a rest stop with lots of cyclists. I wasn’t going to be last.
Just 18 miles to go and the roads in this section were rollers — undulating ups and downs with some flat sections. On a gravel road, I passed a farmhouse with the name Wenger on the mailbox. Then about 100 yards away I passed another farmhouse. A Mennonite woman waved to me. I stopped.Â
Her three young daughters were watching from the door and I asked if their name was Wenger. It was. I told them my great-great-great-grandmother was Mary Wenger. There was a pretty good chance we were distantly related. (This from my knowledge of Wenger genealogy) The girls, dressed in their plain long dresses came to see me. I gave them my business card. We were so different. They in their very conservative dress and me outfitted in blue/black spandex. With FUCANCER on the jersey. They must have wondered where I went so wrong.
I pedaled to the finish. Crossing the line the announcer called my name and said I was on a hot list. Then he found it to read that I was a survivor. I would have preferred him to say what I wrote — I was riding in memory of Jake Grecco – the toughest superhero I know.
Finisher’s Medal for Alpine Loop Gran Fondo
Chey was waiting at the finish. He was banged up and bandaged up a little. Nothing broke, he didn’t go for X-rays. Lots of road rash and some mechanical issues with the bike that will have to be fixed. But hopefully, we can do this another day. And I didn’t kill him. Â
Rodrigo Garcia and I met at the Mill Valley Community Center parking lot. We rode to meet the 4K for Cancer group on the last day of their 70-day journey across the U.S. and were surprised when they went by us in the opposite direction. We turned, gave chase, and caught them – because we could.
It wasn’t just surprise but something seemed odd. Rodrigo had delivered a mail stop to them yesterday and we left with solid plans including their roll-out time. A number of them had our cell numbers and were to contact us if that changed, It did and no one notified us. It felt as though we weren’t welcome to see them today.
Ever since saying goodbye to them in Manassas, Va., two 1/2 months ago, I wondered if I would see them again. I rode with them, from Baltimore to Alexandria, and then to Manassas, and it was great that my west coast trip coincided with their finish.
Patrick Sheridan, Barry Sherry
We were on a bike path and I first rode behind Kelly Schofield. Her rear tire was split and looked as though it would blow at any time. I was horrified, knowing the risks one takes on bad tires. But a number of the 4K cyclists rode on tires as bad or even worse than Kelly’s. With pride.
Splitting tire – no problem
The lack of safety awareness greatly concerned me. They told tales of descending at 40 mph on worn-out tires.
But one need not have bad tires to cause a crash. On an easy rollout to San Francisco, Michael Wray crashed hard in Sausalito. No one seems to know why – one second he was upright and the next second he was down on the road. He had some pretty nasty road rash on his legs and arms and a busted lip. Ouch.
Michael Wray
We rode with the 4K to their photo ops on a foggy Vista Point and into Crissy Beach in San Francisco. At Vista Point, Rodrigo and I were introduced to the COO of the organization, a guy named Brian. I extended my hand and said, “My name is Barry.” He looked at me and said, “I know who you are.” It was a very strange greeting and was quite unbecoming of a COO of a cancer non-profit. I guess I crashed his party. Clearly, I was not welcome.
Briefly leaving Vista Point I rode again with Jeff Graves, Chris Chitterling, and Lauren Schoener. It was a reunion from the first day. Along with Patrick Sheridan, the four of them had been my riding partners the first day.
It was also a bittersweet day for me. I started and finished the 4K as a Pedal Pal. The most inspirational Pedal Pal, Jake “The Hero” Grecco, did not finish. His health took a turn for the worse around Memorial Day. While he had hoped to be in Baltimore to meet his Pedal Pal, Chey Hillsgrove, he was too weak and tired. And just three days before the 4K ended, Jake passed away.
While the riders were wearing their 4K jerseys, I wore my special one. Cyclists Combating Cancer, I have written on the back “In Loving Memory, Jacob Grecco, 2004-2012.” I felt empowered riding with the 4K wearing Jake’s name.
My jersey for Jake (On left – Erin Mack, Jeff Graves)
We had a nice ride across the Golden Gate Bridge and then stopped to let the 4K finish at Chrissy Park on their own to the applause of friends and family. When we joined them I met a “Pedal Pal” from Sausalito. She told me she found out about the 4K from an article in RoadBikeRider.com. Yes! I had contacted publisher John Marsh about running an article seeking Pedal Pals and was very happy that it paid off.
Chrissy Beach
The riders enjoyed a closing ceremony — I said goodbye to my Pedal Pal, Patrick, and Rodrigo and I rolled back to Mill Valley.
Barry Sherry, Peter Bai, Rodrigo Garcia Riding partners the day before
In Washington, D.C., I have to be mindful that many people on bikes are tourists and to be careful when riding near them. But Rodrigo and I both agreed that perhaps the single largest location for tourists to rent bikes is in San Francisco to ride over the Golden Gate Bridge.
Approaching the bridge I had a tourist stop in the bike path and turn his bike width-wise and block 3/4 of the lane. I put my foot down to avoid a crash. And on the bridge itself, Rodrigo had a tourist step back (taking a picture) into his path. When he swerved it was in my path and I hit him. How neither of us crashed hard on the bridge I’ll never know. Somehow we stayed upright.
It was good to see the 4K finish. While their bicycle journey across the U.S. ended today, it is my hope that their journeys as cancer fighters never end.
I am a “Pedal Pal.” That is a pen pal for a cyclist who is riding 4,000 miles to raise money and cancer awareness. The 4K for Cancer started at Johns Hopkins as the Hopkins4K but was now taken over by another organization. I was asked to be a Pedal Pal for this year’s group.
My friend, Alan, graciously allowed me to be at his house in Alexandria at 5:30 p.m. and he drove me to Baltimore. Then I could bike from Baltimore to D.C. and back to Alexandria.
When we arrived at 6:45 it was easy to spot the riders. Team Portland wore blue jerseys. Team Seattle wore gold jerseys. Team San Francisco wore white jerseys. The riders were standing in a dedication circle holding hands and one by one announcing who they were riding for on that day.
Chey and Barry
I had to find Chey Hillsgrove, the Team Portland leader. He is the Pedal Pal for Jake the Hero Grecco. I didn’t know when we would be rolling out and made sure I found him first. He was very gracious and very thankful that I came to say hello to him.
Dedicated to Jake (Chey)
I then found Patrick Sheridan, my Pedal Pal. He introduced me to our riding team of Jeff Graves, Chris Chitterling, and Lauren Shoener, as well as Lauren’s father, who would be riding with us. At some point before we rolled out we had an alumni rider, Zack, join us but I don’t remember meeting him until I gave him my water bottle – because he forgot water bottles. He also looked like Screech on Saved by the Bell.
Team San Francisco
Shortly after 7:00 a.m., we rolled out of the parking lot and over to the Inner Harbor. A strange sight (to me) was seeing so many of the bikes turned upside down. Perhaps in my circle, we never do that because we would smash our bike computers. The riders were then called over for the opening ceremony.
Lauren checking her bike
After the National Anthem, the riders dipped their rear wheels into the Inner Harbor which was followed by a group photo op. The San Francisco group was called up and were ready for the send-off. Although I had pictured a peloton of 30 riders, that was not to be. We were sent off in groups of four or five, each one spaced seemingly 3-4 minutes apart. Our group was the third to go and it was then I saw the mystery alumni rider, Zack.
Sendoff at Inner Harbor
Within a few hundred yards we were caught up with the two front groups and were in the midst of a 10k run. Perhaps the four riders had cue sheets and our alumni rider did as well but I didn’t. I was simply along for the ride.
We had only gone one mile when we got on a trail littered with broken bottles and glass. Stay classy Baltimore.
We meandered, literally, about the streets. When we looked up we saw riders headed in different directions. So we followed them. We went east on Ostend Street then made a U-turn and went west. And others followed us. I was along for the ride.
Screech then led us down a street with a clear “No Outlet” sign visible. I enjoyed pointing to it while we passed it. We turned around. I was along for the ride.
Pikachu (Clean)
As little confidence as we had in our alumni leader, others may have had less in theirs because they asked us to go to the front and be the lead group. Jeff then stepped up and took the lead on reading and calling out directions and I did most of the pulling. Just tell me where to turn. It worked well because I had a good odometer. Not sure about the other riders. I can’t imagine doing a cross-country trip without one though.
Once we finally got rolling we got to the BWI Trail. When we came to Stoney Run Road we turned left instead of right. We even stopped about 50 yards from where we turned to contemplate our decision and one of the 4K vans even stopped and didn’t say a word (that we were going the wrong way). Nice. We went 1.5 miles before turning around. We rode back four miles when we could have continued with a right turn and been back on course after two miles.
Dipping tires in the Inner Harbor
We stopped in Jessup for Rest Stop #1. While our bonus miles had dropped us back as the third or fourth group in we were the first to leave. As we rolled on the open road we noticed we soon dropped Zack, our “leader.” We waited and discovered he needed a tool to fix his saddle.
Once fixed, we dropped Zack again. This time we learned that he hadn’t eaten breakfast. And that he ran four marathons. And six half marathons. He loved telling us what a great endurance athlete he was.
Zack would have a rough day. He was on a borrowed bike (not his fault), lost his water bottle (partially his fault), and failed to eat breakfast before a 65-mile ride in the heat (completely his fault).
Dipping tires in the Inner Harbor
With our confidence in Zack waning, I asked Jeff to read me the street names on the cue sheet. That’s when I learned we would connect with the Capital Crescent Trail, a trail I ride 2-3 times per week. I told him to get us there and I would lead us home. We were brimming with confidence.
BWI Trail which passes BWI Airport
We rolled into Rest Stop #2 in College Park. Then things started to go terribly wrong. Zack was insistent that we would have to wait for all the groups to check in and we had heard one group was more than one hour behind. We were not patiently waiting.
To make matters more confusing, Zack told us that one of the drivers (alumni) stated we had to wait while another one was clearly telling us to go. Lauren’s father was with us and was really pushing the issue to ride. When three groups checked in, we left.
On the road with Patrick and Jeff
We followed the directions and then they just blew up. They made no sense. We showed locals and they simply shook their heads. We used Barry’s rules of navigating: (1) If you’re trying to get to the river (Potomac) follow the creek as it flows downward; and (2) If you don’t know where you’re going at least get there in a hurry.
Pizza Lunch Break
Even stopping and asking a Maryland Park Policewoman, she was also confused by our directions. So at Queen’s Chapel Road in Hyattsville, we stopped in a broken bottle, glass-strewn Exxon parking lot.
It was hot and we were thirsty. It had been a while since we saw a support van and we were all out of water. I gave Zack some money and told him to go into the CVS and bring back a couple of gallons of water. Mark went across the street and got himself a Coke.
Chris, Lauren, Patrick, Jeff
Eventually, both support vans found us and since we had been leading and chalking the turns, the other groups followed. Zack was insistent that we all stay together and Lauren’s dad not-so-gently informed him that we were in a pretty unsafe area. Common sense took over at that point.
That was the end of Zack’s day. Not literally because he kept riding with us but he fell to the back and didn’t say a word after that. He was useless.
Patrick found us a nice car route to D.C. although we rode on the sidewalk on Queen’s Chapel instead of in the street. I told Patrick we couldn’t ride down North Capitol Street which was his plan but we could find parallel streets. Although when he said we would run into Michigan Avenue I thought that could work an alternative route.
We came to the bridge that crossed Amtrak’s Northeast Corridor and I instructed the group to stop. I didn’t tip my hand, at first, but I knew exactly where I was.
I had twice ridden the Metropolitan Branch Trail at lunchtime in the winter and didn’t like it. But I at least recognized the area. I had Jeff chalk an arrow to turn on 7th, then on Monroe, then on 8th. Then we joined the Metropolitan Branch Trail. I told our group the MBT would take us right to Union Station, downtown. Talk about big smiles. They called the vans immediately.
We followed the trail to Union Station then down to the Mall. I took our group to 15th Street simply to chalk it then we backtracked for bonus miles. I took my group for a tour of Hanes Point then Jeff and I went ahead and chalked the rest of the route while the others took a rest in the shade of a tree at the Jefferson Memorial.
Once our task was completed, we took the 14th Street Bridge across the Potomac and followed the Mt. Vernon Trail to Old Town Alexandria. We did briefly stop at Gravelly Point and watched the planes land at Reagan National Airport.
I said goodbye to my new friends and had to find my way to Alan’s house, without a 4K cue sheet. It was easier that way.
