Erin Bishop - peaceonabike

September 30, 2018September 1, 2021

Alpine Loop Gran Fondo

HARRISONBURG, VIRGINIA

I need to rethink the sleepover component of this event. I stayed at home and got up at 4:30 a.m. to drive to Harrisonburg. Four hours of sleep is not enough.

I arrived at 7:20 a.m. thinking I had plenty of time. I did not. Registration was slower than expected (efficient but there were a lot of people checking in at 7:30 a.m.). Each time I was ready to roll out from the car I seemed to be missing something. Glasses. A spare rear light. Arm warmers.

We were given timing chips to attach to the fork. I took mine to the start then wrapped it around the fork. Around the fork and a spoke. I didn’t notice. There was two minutes before the start. A rider next to me said, “Do you know you have that wrapped around a spoke?” Damn. I had nail clippers to trim the zip ties and cut them off. I simply put the guy in my pocket and off we went through downtown Harrisonburg.

South Fork South Branch Potomac River (WV)

We circled the block then as the group was headed out of town I went back to start and picked up two new zip ties. I then headed through town and saw the tail of the group up the road. I quickly made my way to the end of the group and found Robert Hess. Once I caught Robert we pedaled a little faster and we moved up through the group.

I caught a woman wearing a Spokes of Hope cycling jacket. I told her my other kit was Spokes of Hope and asked her what she knew about Spokes of Hope. She told me the jacket belonged to her father-in-law and “we’re from Pittsburgh.” I asked her if her father-in-law was Dave Mitchell. She was blown away that I knew, or knew of, her father-in-law. We stopped for a photo before the routes would split.

Robert and I rode ahead to the split (Mile 8) where he would turn left (35 miles route) and I would turn right (100 miles route). Because I had to ride to catch the back of the group I was pretty certain I was the last on the road headed to the century route. I wondered if I would catch anyone.

I did catch a few riders before U.S. 33 and the climb over the mountain. I still had not stopped to properly attach my timing chip and decided it wasn’t worth it.* I am still recovering fitness from my knee replacement surgery and I wasn’t going for any KOM (King of the Mountain) segments. Still, I moved the chip from my jersey pocket to the seam in my shorts just above the knee. Maybe it would work.

Looking back at the climb out of Virginia

The descent off the mountain was fast. I made up for my slow ride up with a quick descent. Still, I felt I was more cautious than I had been before May 16. The risk/reward of a couple extra MPH wasn’t worth it.

My shoe didn’t feel right and at the second rest stop, also the base of the Reddish Knob, Kelly, from Rocktown BIcycles in Harrisonburg, fixed my cleat the best she could. She also took a photo of me going up the 18% climb.

As I pulled out of the rest stop, I was side by side with a 15 year old, Ben, from Winchester. He asked me about the climb, having been told it’s not has hard as the climb we did on U.S. 33. I told him it was much harder. Someone lied to him.

Kelly from Rocktown Bicycles and a young volunteer

We kept talking and stayed together for much of the climb. Perhaps two-thirds of the way up I was going faster and did not want to stop. I didn’t know if he stopped or was going slower but eventually I did not see him any longer.

And I felt cramping coming on. This is where a lack of serious riding since my knee surgery was catching up to me. I shouldn’t be cramping and yet I was. When I reached the summit I looked down the road and so no one. There was another rider waiting and he asked if I knew about a scenic overlook. I did not but decided to go up a narrow access road that might lead to one. I had gone about 1/4 mile and was cramping worse. I turned around.

The descent off the mountain was sketchy, Soaked with sweat, I had nothing to clean my glasses. They were foggy and with the rough pavement, I took the descent cautiously.

Reaching the next rest stop, I had a decision to make. Head on home or do a 20-mile loop to finish the century ride. Cramping is a sign of body fatigue and I thought on a day I was cramping it would be dumb to add what was now an optional loop. If I had 40 miles to finish I would suffer but I was 20 miles from the finish and didn’t need to add the loop. Also, Ben was doing the 80 (or 75, whatever it was) and we would stay together.

At the finish, we were greeted by cheerleaders from JMU. Katie Yates, one of my referees who attends JMU, came over and joined us for a post-ride meal. A real surprise was Robert called Ben up to the podium. He had won the KOM for his age group. Since I took him over the mountains I think he owes me one of his polka dots.

After our dinner, I went to stand up. Ouch. The legs hurt. It was a hard day on the bike and without a good fitness base, I made the right decision not to finish the century. Next year!

*Perhaps not the exact measured climb but on RideWithGPS my time in the past has been 30 or 31 minutes. Yesterday it was 40 minutes. Reddish Knob I’ve done in 45 minutes, today was 1:02. I was right. It was not worth race timing.

September 25, 2016September 26, 2016

Alpine Loop Gran Fondo

HARRISONBURG, VIRGINIA

I am sore and hurting. Not from a crash but from being so out of shape for an event. Including the time I stayed in Pennsylvania after my father died, I was two weeks without a bike ride leading up to the Jeremiah Bishop Alpine Loop Gran Fondo. If that wasn’t bad enough, yesterday I refereed a couple of soccer matches – something I haven’t done since April or May. My legs were sore going in.

Maybe it was a culmination of things. During my dad’s final days I did three all-nighter’s with him, one time staying awake 42 straight hours and sleeping just two in 62 hours. Last night we went to Andrew’s hockey game and I didn’t get to sleep until 1:30 a.m. and was up at 4:45 a.m. Clearly I was suffering from not enough rest.

I arrived in Harrisonburg and went to the front of the line as a prostate cancer survivor and supporter of the Prostate Cancer Awareness Project. There I met Joe Dombrowski, of Cannondale-Drapec for perhaps, the fourth straight year. I was able to ask him about contracts for next year for Ben King and Phil Gaimon. He said Ben has (or will have) a contract. He doesn’t know about Phil. It’s a tough business.

I also met Jeremiah Bishop at the start. His wife, Erin, came over and gave me a hug. Neither of us knew if I would make the start today. Robert Hess, of the Prostate Cancer Awareness Project, also came over to greet me.

We rolled out at 8:00 a.m. It was a ceremonial roll out. Two miles in as we turned off US 33 onto Eversole Road I was briefly at the front. I did not position myself here and did not want to be here. My legs felt like crap and I wanted to ride easy with no pressure, certainly not wheel to wheel with the main peleton. When I saw a safe place to exit I bailed out and let the main group pass.

I also had a reason to doing that. My heart rate monitor wasn’t reading and I wanted to see how high it was as I was pushing it. I adjusted it and it was recorded 35. Then it was zero. Guess the battery is shot.

When I jumped on I was pretty much at the end of the Alpine Loop and Century riders. The timed section of the Shenandoah mountain climb seemed to start at a different location than in the past (I didn’t ride this route last year). When I passed the bridge over Dry Run I started my timer.

On the climb I passed some (eight) and was passed by some (seven). In the past in this position (near the end of the main group) I did much better. Crossing the top I looked at my time and knew it was bad. RidewithGPS has a segment for this climb and confirmed what I knew: This was the worst of my five timed climbs on this route.

Going over the top was sweet. I can still get down the mountain pretty fast. I passed many and was passed by no one. My top speed was 46 mph. Would have liked higher but it was a technical descent. I blew by the first aid station and joined up with a line of riders in the valley. It wasn’t really a pace line because one guy was doing all the pulling and there were six or seven of us getting a free ride. And he didn’t mind.

Big Rock Dairy on the "Loop" — Big Rock Dairy on the “Loop”

The second climb was Reddish Knob. Like the first, it was my worst time recorded except for the first year when it was a dirt climb. So worst on pavement. But a good descent.

Leaving the third aid station I came to the moment of truth. I had been thinking all day I would skip the 27 mile loop and ride on home making it a 77 mile day. I came to the loop. I turned onto it.

Near Stokesville Lodge - I think — Near Stokesville Lodge – I think

The loop was nice but I was all alone. I stopped for a picture then was passed by three women. I first thought about joining them but that may have been creepy and I was worried I would not keep up. I let them go. I was passed by a guy who told me to grab his wheel. I declined and then as he pulled away I caught up to him I told him my dad died last week and this was a day for me to just ride by myself. He understood.

Then I came to it. The John Deere tractor. My dad’s favorite. He loved his Chevrolet, John Deere, and Arnold Palmer. And I would learn later that Arnie died today.

The loop ended at the same aid station (#3). A brief stop and I was off to ride the last segment. And there was a timed climb on Mole Hill. I told the guy at the timing station I hated him. (I was kidding, of course. I think.)

The day was cloudy and cool, around 60 degrees, all day. It never warmed up. I wore arm warmers and needed them, except for the climbs in which I sweated my butt off. At the end, I saw Robert again, but still not feeling great, headed for home. I even skipped the meal.

It was a day of suffering. I think the circumstances leading up to it made it much worse than it should have been. But a bad day on a bike is better than a good day on the couch.

September 20, 2015February 17, 2016

Scaring the Amish

HARRISONBURG, VIRGINIA

Since its inception, the Jeremiah Bishop Alpine Gran Fondo has been a staple of my cycling season. The reason is because it supports fighting prostate cancer. Since being introduced by my late friend, Scott Scudamore, I have also become friends with Jeremiah and Erin Bishop, plus Robert Hess of the Prostate Cancer Awareness Project.

GF10

There was one problem this year. The world championships of professional cycling were being held in Richmond. This was the first time in 30 years the “Worlds” were here. Today was the only day to see the “trade” teams, Garmin, BMC, etc., in the team time trial. I wanted to do both.

GF1

I knew I could not do 100 miles and get to Richmond so I signed up for the “Valley View Challenge.” I know Erin was surprised when she saw my application but I explained that I was going to Richmond and wanted to support their ride. She understood.

GF2

We rolled out of town and I was at the front. As the peleton rolled on I was comfortably in the pack but new there was a turn coming up eventually. I pulled over, took some photos, then jumped back in the group and rode up to the turn.

GF3

I was on the road by myself then sat up and saw a rider from UVA coming. He joined me and we rolled to the first, and only rest stop. After a while we rolled out with a third. We were clearly in front when we came upon a young Amish couple on their bikes going to church. While Matthew and Luca* rode ahead, I slowed down to talk to the couple.

GF4

They were very personable. I introduced myself and they told me they were Keith and Julie Zimmerman and their young son. Somehow I happen to mention the Wenger name and Julie looked at me and said “that’s my maiden name.”

GF6

We came to a turn. The Fondo route was to the left. Keith and Julie turned right. I turned right with them. Matthew and Luca were up ahead and looked back and saw me going the other way. They turned around to follow me. One mile later we were at the church and I bid Keith and Julie a good day.

GF5

Matt and Luca weren’t sure where they were going and I laughed. “Well, you were going right until you decided to follow me.” I told them we would go exploring.

GF7

We went into Dayton and then did some trailblazing, getting back to Harrisonburg. We were first on the day.

GF8

It wasn’t the classic Grand Fondo right but it was just right. I spent a little time with Robert and Julie before heading on to Richmond for Worlds. And I thought how lucky I was to choose the short route on this day or I wouldn’t have been able to meet, and well, scare, the Amish.

When I got home, I contacted my 5th cousin, Daniel Wenger, who is the preeminent Wenger historian. I pieced together my information with what he knew and quickly proved she was a descendant of Christian Wenger (b. 1698). In Lancaster Co., Pa., we have two known Wenger lines. The other is Hans Wenger (1705), which is my line. It is presumed they are related, perhaps as close as first cousins, but no historian has been able to document that. DNA shows the lines are connected but we can’t yet say that we’re 5th cousins. Definitely my Amish cousins in name. I’m claiming them!

____
*Not their real names.

September 29, 2014February 9, 2023

Jeremiah Bishop Alpine Loop Gran Fondo

HARRISONBURG, VIRGINIA

Unless I misremembered, prior editions of this event went off at 9:00 a.m. so I planned on getting up by 5:30 a.m. to drive to Harrisonburg. Late last night I checked the website and discovered we had an 8:00 a.m. rollout. Crap! That meant a 4:20 a.m. wake-up alarm. But I did it.

I arrived for check-in and saw Robert Hess, of the Prostate Cancer Awareness Project. I had enough time to get ready but I didn’t have time to waste. At check-in there were heaters running as it was pretty chilly.

I earned this Around The World Club jersey
surpassing 24,901 miles on August 8

Before the race a number of riders’ names were read out as “call ups.” Not sure what more was going to happen. I heard my name – either as a donor or survivor, or both. At this event, cancer survivors do get front row privileges and I used mine, up front with Joe Dombrowski of Team Sky and Ben King of Team Garmin-Sharp.

We rolled out through Harrisonburg with a police escort. Ben King was at the front and I was not by his side but in the second or third row. Joe Dombrowski took a spot much farther back.

We rolled out in one massive group and I maintained this for the first nine miles. As we rode further I became less comfortable in the group as I spotted some questionable riding. I decided I’d rather not be part of this massive peleton as we rolled fast to the first timed climb. I found a pull off spot and let the group roll on.

Once there was a break in the group I jumped back onto the road – by myself. Of course, there were riders all over the place. As I came to the timed climb on US 33 I had just been passed by three riders although two may have been together and one was a wheel sucker.

I stayed with one of those riders in blue

At first I thought they were going too fast for me to join them then realized I should. Once I latched on I realized that we were going at a pedestrian pace. A couple of guys went by like they were “racing.” I decided not to race anyone, at least not yet, and just stayed with them. I thought they may be going at a reasonable pace.

On the climb I stayed with them wheel for wheel. We passed many riders and I thought I was saving myself and doing much better than prior years. I had decided if I stayed with them to the finish I would not to try and race them to the line as they had been doing all the work but as we approached the summit they did not pick up the pace one bit as the grade flattened out. So I went.

My time on the climb was 35:31 – about the same as two years ago and one minute slower than last year. I know I could have gone much harder on the bottom portion but don’t regret not doing it. Maybe next time I find faster guys to hang with.

It was a gorgeous day. My phone didn’t want to take pictures because it was full. So I didn’t stop on the descent down US 33. But it was beautiful. The vistas on this side (West Virginia) are especially stunning.

At the second rest stop, and the base of the climb up Reddish Knob, I started seeing familiar faces. Mariette Vanderzon. Dee Reeb. Allon Shiff. Rich McAfee. And I saw the drink of San Pellegrino, the one climb that kicked my butt this year.

And today’s climb would come close. Mariette caught me. She is a strong rider but not feeling so well. Although she eventually pulled away, she was always about 50-75 yards ahead of me. The climb has extended sections (2-3 miles) of 10-12% grade. This is really hard.

I rode my new bike which is not set up for climbing big long mountains. Without the right gearing, I would say this was the second hardest climb of the season for me – behind San Pellegrino.

After the rest stop at Mile 59 (or so) I headed out on my own. And saw no one – up ahead or behind. When I came to the gravel section I stopped and talked to six Mennonite children. I explained to them my great-great-great-grandmother was Mary Wenger – the same name they had. They seemed excited by this.

Once back on the road I was “caught” by a rider. I had actually spent five minutes with the kids and saw the rider coming so waited for him. He was a first-timer and was not up to my pace. I slowed. When he cramped and walked I soft-pedaled and waited. We enjoyed each others’ company and rode together to the end.

Arriving back I was welcomed by Erin Bishop and met with Robert Hess again. A quick bite to eat and some chocolate milk, and I was headed home — needed to get to bed early after that 4:20 a.m. start.

January 7, 2014July 23, 2015

Superman

First Batman, now Superman.

We are different from other living creatures because at an early age we
understand there is a beginning and an end, that we will all die. I am
not of an age that I think about it (much) but the last week has made me
face it a lot. When you lose a close friend close in age that will
happen.

Scott Scudamore loved life. He was the life of the party and
where there was anyone and Scott there was a party. When I heard the
news on Sept. 23 that he was on life support I had a hard time accepting
that. But over three months we saw, I saw, that smile. And at Kessler
he told me that he was lucky because he didn’t have brain damage. The
entire time I believed that he would beat this in some way.

Kessler Institute for Rehabilitation
West Orange, NJ

We
looked for signs of movement returning. We were all excited the day Scott moved his thumb. But we never saw anything more. And if he were confined
to that wheelchair with no movement below his neck I knew that he would
somehow make a difference in other people’s life in his new condition.

He was Superman. He was the guy we kiddingly said we all aspired to be.
But I never wanted to be like Scott and I doubt that anyone else did
either. For Scott was unique. There was room for only one Scott.

At the start line with the kids from the
Boys and Girls Club, Sept. 15

And confession time: I never called him Scud and I never ate a Scudfry
(although they may not exist in the singular – just the plural,
Scudfries). He was always Scott to me.

Scott would call me at the
strangest times. “Barry Sherry,” accenting each syllable equally, “How
the heck are you?” And I’d ask “Where in the heck are you?” Traveling
between events, skiing in Colorado, visiting his daughter, Krista, in San Diego, or in
the living room with Jeremiah and Erin Bishop, he was always planning
our next adventure.

Scott was a legend in the mountain bike world.
And I am not a mountain biker. But he made time for me. He dragged my
butt to Iowa for RAGBRAI two years ago. He came with me to Altoona for a
cancer recovery ride. He invited me to ride with him and the kids from
the Boys and Girls Club in Charlottesville in August. And he supported
every one of my many cancer-fighting charity rides.

Barry, Eli, Scott
August 29, 2013

Scott was a
proud husband, father and grandfather. He worried about the health of his wife, “St. Margaret,” also a cancer survivor. He was proud of his daughter,
Jen and her husband, Carl, and their two kids. He always let me know
what Kyle and Marie were doing. And he was proud of his daughter,
Krista, making a career of serving in the U.S. Navy.

Sweating in Altoona
April 2010

Scott didn’t
just (re)learn to talk when he went to Kessler — that blinking stuff was for
the birds after all — he SANG. When I saw him and asked about his voice he
said it was so strong he could sing and he BELTED out LA LA LA LA LA LA
LA going up then down the scales. Everyone who could look did and he
was grinning from ear to ear. That was Scott.

If anyone could
beat this injury, it was Scott. Yet, looking back, even the few hours I
was with Scott, I saw the optimism one needs to overcome the injuries
but also the frustration and disappointment. The physical therapist
moved his shoulders and asked him if he could feel that. He smiled and
said yes. And then realization set in as he realized that he did not
feel his shoulders move. And the frustration and maybe even anger at
being trapped in this body, Superman’s body, that didn’t work.

Altoona ride, April 2009

It shocked me, and probably most of Scott’s friends, because we saw, we
believed, the ever smiling Scott would beat this. But unless you had a
personal visit and saw the downs as well as the ups, you wouldn’t know
any better.

Then there was “the bike.” Whether it was designed
for Christopher Reeve (that other Superman) or he just used it at
Kessler, I do not recall. But even with limbs not working Scott’s rehab
equipment of choice was the bike. His feet would be strapped to the
pedals and a motor would move his legs. The therapist explained that
with his blood pressure “all over the place” they could not risk putting
him on this machine. And he was quite dejected.

I showed him
the picture with me and Kyle’s soccer team, all wearing their new Scud’s
Courage jerseys. He proudly told his physical therapists how Kyle’s
team got special permission from the club to wear those and “they’re
going to wear them next year too.” Such a proud grandfather.

Kyle’s team honoring “Scud’s Courage”
Kyle is next to me, my hand on his shoulder

When I told Jen that story today she said “sounds like Dad made that part up.”

Still, I left Kessler remembering the smile. The proud grandfather. The
promise I made that I would be back to visit and that when he went home
I would come stay and visit.

I forgot that during my time
visiting that he had some down moments. He was someone you would
remember the good times. And, in my case, ignore the signs that all was
not well.

When I had arrived for my visit, Margaret and I talked
and she told me that she almost asked me not to come because of Scott’s
ups and downs. But Scott had vetoed that idea because he wanted me to
come. However, just two weeks ago she did ask me not to come because he
needed his rest.

Superman
Picture from TrailsForYouth.org

The signs were there for me to see but this was Superman. I ignored them.

This video is from the tribute Scott’s
colleagues at the Lake Monticello Rescue Squad
gave him at his funeral.

If there was one person to beat this horrific injury it was Scott. But
in the end it was too much even for him. All of a sudden you realize
that we don’t live forever. If death can snatch someone so energetic and
vibrant, and in reality he was a cross between Superman and the
Energizer Bunny, then I am left to realize that it will catch us all.
It’s something we don’t like to think about but it is real.

A great man. A great friend. He will be sorely missed but his memory and his legend lives on.

Maybe Jen was right and her dad made up the part about Kyle’s team
wearing those jerseys next year. But as Director of Referees for his
soccer club, I talked to the administrator today and told them Scott’s
story.

They will be wearing those uniforms in the spring.

Superman lives on.

September 16, 2012August 29, 2021

Oh My God – I Killed Chey

HARRISONBURG, VIRGINIA

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.