Scott Scudamore - peaceonabike

July 23, 2012July 30, 2021

Mr. Pork Chop

LAKE VIEW, IOWA

Sunday was hot and Monday (today) got hotter. With 20,000 cyclists you will never be first or last at anything. Never. Get up at 4:30 to be first? Guaranteed that someone is already on the road.

Even if you wanted to sleep in, which on RAGBRAI is until sunrise, it’s almost impossible. With our charter, we had a campsite and all tents were close together. Someone was always up before sunrise tearing down their tent and dragging their roller bags to the truck. And talking. And so I was up before sunrise.

The daily routine was to roll up the sleeping bag (used to lay on, never to crawl in), dress for the day’s ride, smoosh the clothes back into the suitcase, tear down and pack the tent, then take the two bags to the truck. Check the air in the tires, jump on the bike and roll. Breakfast, if at all, would come on the road.

I wore my new Cyclists Combating Cancer kit, thinking of 8-year-old Jacob Grecco getting hyperthermia treatments in Germany.

On the bus ride from Clinton to Sioux City we saw the official RAGBRAI welcome video. It was clear that Mr. Pork Chop was a tradition not to be missed. But there were other vendors too. And I found the Schwan Ice Cream Man.

RAGBRAI is a celebration of Iowa. Maybe of cycling too, but mostly Iowa. For the host towns, it is a major event to be selected. But even for the pass-thru towns like Schaller, it is huge.

Churches, schools, civic groups, clubs, and sports teams all come out to greet and welcome the riders. And to sell things, mostly food. But not everyone is selling. Like Punxsutawney with the Groundhog Queen or Meyersdale (Pa.) with the Maple Queen, and thousands of communities with their various themed queens, this town wanted to greet us with their best. And I met Schaller’s 2012 Popcorn Queen, Heather Hansen.

Heather was mingling with other friends when I asked for a photograph. Once I did it seemed a line form to get a picture with her.

I only had to walk a few meters through Schaller before being able to jump on the bike and roll. Once back on the road, I met Rod Ambelang from Kansas City. We were wearing the same CCC jersey so we talked about — cancer. We rode for a while before I joined an ill-formed paceline and went down the road far ahead of him.

I wasn’t with the paceline long and we broke up when we came to the roadside stand of Mr. Pork Chop, a RAGBRAI tradition. Unfortunately, so is the stupid tradition of rides going by yelling “Mr. Pork CHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!” For $7 I got a chop so thick that I could not eat the entire thing. But I tried it.

At Sac City, I stopped to see the World’s Largest Popcorn Ball. It’s a celebration of Iowa and the Sac City natives were proud of their ball. This was straight out of National Lampoon’s Vacation.

World’s Largest Ball of Popcorn, Sac City, Iowa

After Sac City I caught Rod again. We rode together the last 10 miles to Lake View and then said goodbye.

Once I got to camp and set up, I surmised the situation. I just rode 65 miles. It was 100º. I could shower, put on clothes, then sweat through them. Or — I could ride.

I asked a local resident how far it was around the lake and she told me seven miles. So I did five loops of the lake trying to keep cool. And to see if it was foolish to ride 100 miles before tomorrow’s century ride.

After a shower, I took a shuttle (a wagon pulled by a tractor) into town for a $9 spaghetti dinner at the United Methodist Church. The line, unbeknownst to me when I entered it, was more than one hour, the first 30 minutes spent in the 100º sun. Inside we were ushered into the sanctuary until our number was called to eat.

I sat beside a couple and asked Emily Fuhrman where she was from. She said Fort Wayne, Indiana, and introduced me to her boyfriend who was from Houston, Ohio (pronounced House-ton, by the way). She was hesitant at first to name the town because it was so small no one would have ever heard of it. A small town about 40 miles north of Dayton. When she said Houston I paused and said, “Oh, I attended school there.” And I had attended school there in 1966-1967. It’s a small world indeed.

My good friend, Scott, came rolling in with a group around 3:00 or 4:00. He asked me when I arrived at I told him 11:00 a.m. He was astounded. “How you could do that, he asked?” And I told him I rode 100 miles today.

I proceeded to ask Scott about his day. He said they rolled out but stopped to grab breakfast in Cherokee. In Aurelia, they stopped for refreshments (not sure if this was alcohol or not).

In Schaller, Scott and some friends went to a beer garden and spent a lot of time there then sought relief from some sprinklers. In Sac City, he went into an air-conditioned church (which was open to riders) and fell asleep on a pew. Then, perhaps, another beer garden.

Just rolling through Iowa
Photo Credit: **Rob Ambelang**

Two different approaches to RAGBRAI. Me, I just wanted to ride my bike. Scott, on the other hand, wanted to enjoy everything there was about Iowa. We were both happy with our different approaches to this ride.

July 22, 2012July 19, 2017

Me and 23,000 Friends

CHEROKEE, IOWA

I waited for Scott Scudamore and his group of friends and they asked me to lead them out, joking that I would soon drop them. We went 150 meters and I pulled over to look for a friend, Mickey Haalman, who was working with Bubba’s Pampered Pedalers. They rolled on without me and I never saw them the rest of the day. And I didn’t see Mickey either.

We rolled out of Sioux Center. The fire department hung American flags high above the road for our roll out. Thousands, 10,000 registered and estimates of 23,000 total, rolled out of Sioux Center. And I was alone. With thousands.

Once on the open road one can ride at speed. Mostly. But entering the small towns you often come to a complete stop. So many people are stopping and dismounting that more often than not you have to dismount and walk your bike through the town.

The first town I came to was Orange City. Dead stop. I thought I could stay on my bike but came to the realization that so many people would just stop and turn that it was safer to walk.

I met up with a young man, Stephen, from Chicago and we rode together the entire day. It was nice having company. We stopped at a farm stand selling water, Gatorade, and bananas, a RAGBRAI staple.

RAGBRAI is a celebration of Iowa. In the towns and cities where it passes they bring out their firetrucks and hang banners. Churches, schools, scout and civic groups all set up stands selling food. And in between the towns, the farmers set up stands selling food.

In Marcus we stopped for more drink and watermelon. But mostly we pedaled. We did a rolling farewell when we arrived Cherokee, never to see each other again. “Nice riding with you – have a great week.”

Once I arrived in Cherokee, and it was a bit early, I did a little riding around town. I found a nice swimming pool but the line was too long to get in. That would have been the best deal going. At RAGBRAI everything, including a shower, costs money. Rather than pay $6-$8 for a shower I could get a swim and a shower for $6-$8.

Plus I was a little uncomfortable leaving my bike outside the pool without locking it. I don’t carry a lock. My bike is in my car, in my house, or between my legs. Or at RAGBRAI, in my tent.

I found a restaurant where I could leave my bike outside the window and watch it while eating in my booth. If you want to know, it was a Pizza Hut. But it worked.

I ate dinner then went to the campsite where I put the bike in my tent, showered, and enjoyed some good company of others before dark. I also found the recharging station that we had at our camp. It was generator powered and I grabbed two spots – one for my phone and one for my Garmin.

As soon as it was dark I went to bed. I’m boring.

April 20, 2010August 12, 2021

Scud TT

MONTCLAIR, VIRGINIA

Watch a Grand Tour like the Tour de France and you will see different types of riders based on their body sizes. Of course, there are exceptions to all of these but the “sprinters” tend to be bigger guys with big thighs. And they’re the most daring of all riders. If they can stay together with a stage at the end, one of them will come out of the pack to take it at the line.

The “time trialists” are great at riding at their own pace and this often favors some of the heavier riders who aren’t knocked around by the winds. Riding by oneself you have no protection from the wind.

The “climbers” tend to be smaller riders who always have the best power to weight ratios. The rider who will win a Grand Tour is someone who can do all these fairly well, but usually, the Tour de France is set up to favor climbers. Fabian Cancellara recently won the Tour of Flanders and Paris-Roubaix and may be the best cyclist in the world right now but won’t even be in the discussion to win the tour. Climbers like Alberto Contador, Andy and Fränk Schleck, and, of course, Lance Armstrong, get everyone’s attention.

I have a perfect body to excel at nothing. I’m too big to be a climber although the satisfaction is like none other. I wonder if, in my 20s, my sprinting ability off the bike would have translated to being on the bike? I will never know. I do know that two foot surgeries, one knee surgery, and age have robbed me of any sprinting ability I once had.

If I could pretend for a second, I guess my best discipline would be domestique – hanging back and carrying water to my team leader. And my dream would be not to win the Tour de France but to be the Lanterne Rouge.

Last week, Scott Scudamore posted a ride I called the Scud TT (time trial). He described it as only having 30 minutes so he went out hard and hammered home and tried to beat 18+ mph.

Since Scott and I ride together occasionally and he tells me that I am a much stronger rider than he is, I thought I could go do the same ride and smash his time. So on Thursday I rode to his house, stopped my bike, and then took off on his route to mirror his exact ride. My time was better — 19.3 vs. 18.5, but I was hoping for 20+.

I rode about as hard as I could for 25 minutes or so. 8.5 miles. For all his talk about being a stronger rider, I think it’s a bunch of hooey.

My legs were shot after this effort.

I stayed off the bike on Friday but did referee a high school varsity soccer match at night. And then, Saturday…

Our group ride was canceled so we did our own group ride. Except David Vito and his friend, Vince, showed up on time trial bikes. These bikes are fast. They’re equipped with aero bars for leaning out over the bike although they don’t handle quite as well as a regular road bike. And thus David and Vince suggested we ride the W&OD instead of our normal road route.

There were strong headwinds, 20-30 mph, and I did my best to hang on behind as we headed from Reston to Leesburg. Although Daniel Kalbacher took a pull, I had no pop in my legs on this day. We ultimately did 32 miles at a hard pace and I did one pull on the way back, with a tailwind, and was gone after that.

When I got home I jumped in the shower which eventually became slumping into a hot bath. And fell asleep. Then I moved to the bed where I slept. Then to the sofa. I ended up sleeping most of the time from 4:30 p.m. on Saturday until 2:30 p.m. on Sunday. Different locations, but still sleeping. I had a fever and headache along with an upset stomach.

Two days later the pop hasn’t returned. I am still sleepy. And this is eerily reminiscent of one year ago when I had those fevers which I thought would clear up on their own. They didn’t. Ultimately, in diagnosing an e.Coli infection they discovered cancer. And now I am left to wonder, what is it this time?

April 3, 2010September 4, 2020

Peace on a Bike

ALTOONA, PENNSYLVANIA

For five months I looked forward to this day – the day that I would be back on the bike and come back to these mountains.

Much of 2009 was a blur with an illness and then a diagnosis of cancer. Most waking hours were spent thinking of cancer and quite a few sleeping moments as well. The only time I was completely at peace was on my bike.

I came to these mountains to enjoy their beauty and to getaway. Generally, when I was on my bike I thought of nothing else except riding. It was especially so when I was in the mountains.

I rode “The Wall” by Horseshoe Curve four times last year. I also went to the White Mountains in New Hampshire and was able to lose myself in thought. Truly, I found peace on my bike and in the mountains.

We loaded up six riders in Reston, Va., at 7:00 a.m. and drove to Altoona, arriving by 10:30 a.m. It was “wheels down” at 11:00 and we headed out to Frankstown Road. We were greeted by an unexpected one and one half mile climb.

I had promised three great climbs and three screaming descents on my planned 100 km route. As we waited at the top of the hill – this was a no-drop ride – I had to rethink the 100 km route as everyone complained about not being in riding shape. I adjusted.

Adjustment number one was we turned at Newry and started an 11 mile climb but at 2-3%, up to Puzzletown. In Puzzletown we turned on Valley Forge Road. Here I hit 48 mph – pleased, but then disappointed that I couldn’t push it to 50 mph.

Scott Scudamore leading the group up Valley Forge Road

We turned on Old U.S. 22 and began the seven mile climb to the top of the mountain. Once at the stone arch, we went through the Portage Railroad National Park and cut over to Gallitzin for a short break at a country store.

Then we earned our seven mile descent down Sugar Run Road. Three of us formed a paceline while the other three were content to ride it at a more reasonable speed.

At the bottom, we made our way over to Horseshoe Curve and split our group. A bit of a mutiny as Kelly Noonan and David Vito decided to sit out yet another climb, the steepest of the day too. The early season “big ride” was perhaps too much. But we pushed on.

David Vito at the base of Sugar Run Road

I was only disappointed as this was the climb I wanted everyone to experience. Although I was saving the best for last, perhaps we should have gone up this climb first. But we got everyone up and over the top, back to Gallitzin and down Sugar Run Road again. Then we made our way back to the van.

Kelly, David, and Vince at the bottom of Sugar Run Road

In a recovery that is slower than I want, I can say this was the best day I have had since surgery. I really needed this day.

As for peace on a bike, Kelley remarked to me that riding in Altoona one can only think of the suffering on the climb or the fear of descending at breakneck speed. “No wonder you never thought of cancer while you rode here.”

Indeed. Just peace on a bike.