RIDE REPORT ON MUSCATATUCK CENTURY: STAGE 7

"The best laid plans of mice 

and men oft' go awry."

 

Robert Burns

 

For this ride, I suppose the above quote needs to be changed just a tad.  "The best laid plans of dogs and men oft' go awry."  But we will come to that later.  

 

The day before I am not at all sure I am going to ride the century.  I want to ride the century, but I have had a summer head cold (2 negative COVID tests) and have been weak, feverish, and stuffed up.  With my Alaska trip approaching, I worry endlessly that I am losing fitness and will need to decide if riding will hinder or aid in retaining the fitness I have. I e-mail Mike "Diesel Dog" Kamenish to send me the sheets if I don't show up.  He emails me back that he will stay with me and doesn't mind riding slowly if I decide to attend.  "Backpack" Bob has also assured me that he does not mind a slower pace.  But I don't commit waiting to see how I am in the morning.  

 

In the morning, I decide that, while it is NOT the smartest decision I have ever made, I will ride.  When I later announce this upon arrival, Jon Wineland leaves me momentarily mute by facetiously asking what WAS the smartest decision I ever made.  This will need some future thought on my part. 

 

 The temperature is supposed to be pleasant and what wind there is will be a tail wind most of the return journey.  Besides, it is a new course, lengthier than the original, but without the gravel that caused flats and consternation previous years.  

 

The parking lot fills up quickly.  Many of the people I know, but many of the people I don't.  We are joined by a number of SWI riders.  Steve Sarson, Tom Askew, Thomas Nance, Fritz Kopatz, Larry Preble, Bob Grable, David Chrismon, Julie Chrismon, Bob Evancho, Keith Baldwin, Ed Schaffenberger, Jon Minulli, Mark Rougeux, Vince Livingston, Joe Bolan, David King, David Frey, Jerry Talley, Jason Willis, Glenn Smith, John Dippold, John Neichter,  Jeremiah Westendorf, and I all sign in.  There are a few from SWI that sign only their sign in so we are never sure exactly how many are riding, but it is the biggest TMD crowd of the year.   People are still arriving while Mike is trying to give his pre-ride speech.  I am surprised to see Keith as I knew he took a spill earlier in the week and had been told he has a pretty nice bruise on his leg. 

 

During the speech Mike talks about the course being different and longer than before to take out the gravel that so many had complained about on previous rides.  The course is now approximately 108 miles long.  I giggle when I heard Thomas Nance, who has missed the last three rides, tell people that he missed them due to graduations and now they are talking weddings.  He says he told them they just have to get married some other time, that he has missed three stages for graduations and that is enough.  I smile at seeing Jason Willis.  Jason used to ride with us regularly, but I know I have not seen him on a century ride since before the pandemic.  He appears to be unmarred by the years that have passed.  It is just great to see him. Such a fine rider and an even finer person. 

 

Some of us talk about the upcoming overnight and a few more people express possible interest in attending.  Thomas and I briefly talk to each other about our routes.  I mention to everyone that there is a swimming pool at the motel we are staying at.  And it is time to ride.  What I don't mention is that despite my back to back centuries a couple of weeks ago, I have concerns about completing the overnight.  But one never knows unless one tries I suppose.  The words of Helen Keller come to mind, " Life is a daring adventure, or nothing."  I do love adventures, and I suppose they always come with the risk of failure.  Yes, the rides will be a challenge.  We'll see if this old body is up to what will be asked of it. 

 

It is always a thing of beauty to me seeing the riders spill out of the parking lot, different hues and shades and colors of jerseys creating a quilt of color and movement and the spin of wheels and gears providing the background music that I have come to love.  It also brings, for me, a tinge of sadness as I wonder how much longer I can continue this, how much longer before my body finally says that it is enough and it will tolerate no more.  I think of the dogs that aren't with us due to illness or having made other choices in life that better suit them.   Missed but never forgotten.  Their ghosts ride with us. But the joy of the moment pulls me away from these thoughts and I move on. 

 

Sometimes on a ride it takes awhile for the groups to form, but on today's ride it seems the groups form quickly.  And as it turns out, it will be a ride that has many small groups and only one large group.  I am surprised to find Jason riding with the back group that I am in because I know how fast Jason is.   It is obviously a choice on his part. We get a chance to catch up a bit and I am so sorry to learn he has suffered some significant losses in his  life.  Jason is getting into gravel riding and hopes to do some bike packing.  I suggest that he meet club member Jeff Carpenter as  Jeff rides gravel and occasionally puts a gravel ride on.

 

The roads are lovely.  Many I am familiar with but are being woven together in a new pattern.  At one point, we all see a mature bald eagle flying across a meadow, white tail and head seeming to make a statement.  

 

At the first store stop, the front groups have come and gone when the back group that I am with arrives.  There are a few of the faster riders still there, however,  including Jon Wineland who is fooling with  his bike.  (I later learn that at some point in the ride Keith also has a mechanical but I know no more about what happened, only that Tom Askew stopped to assist).  Mike stays back with Jon and the back group takes off knowing these two strong riders will have no trouble catching us.  I later learn that Jon took off and there was still rubbing and that when he tried to fix it again, the chain slipped off and jammed.  But they do fix it and catch up.  

 

It is not so long after they catch up that we come to......what.....GRAVEL.  Jon, who had ridden ahead, has ridden back to join us to watch our reactions.  Wait, Diesel, we were told that we were riding the extra miles because you took out the gravel.  Ahhh, the best laid plans of dogs.  I am glad I am riding the Lynskey rather than my new bike, but my heart sinks when I see it is 5.2 miles to the next turn.  As it turns out, all but about one mile of that 5.2 miles is paved, but the roasting of Diesel Dog begins.  Fortunately, the gravel is easily traversed in most places, but I later learn that David Frey (at least I think that was who said it) almost went down when hitting one of the thicker soft spots.  I laugh and tell Diesel he is lucky I am on the Lynskey or he might be carrying my Calfee.  I also chuckle thinking of a story that Paul Battle told me.  He was on a ride captained by Mike Crawford and Jim Tretter was with them.  Mike missed a turn on the course and took them all down a super long hill that they were going to have to climb because of missing the turn.  Jim Tretter suddenly yells, "Let's hang him."  There are, indeed, consequences for screw ups.  But no, Mike was roasted but never got the noose. 

 

While we roast Diesel Mike periodically throughout the day, I realize that one of the things I love about riding with the dogs, most of whom are experienced distance riders, is that they just take it good naturedly and deal with it.   Nobody is mad or pissy about the gravel.  Everyone realizes that distance brings challenges and sometimes requires using your head as well as your lungs, legs, and heart.  

 

At lunch, a small group does not want Subway so we had to Dairy Queen.  I know Dave will be there and tell Steve and Bob that, but they still seem a bit surprised to find him there. The faster riders have eaten and left before our arrival.  We eat quickly. ride back to Subway, and rejoin Diesel and the rest.  We talk at lunch about how we like how Diesel found a way to take us off the busy road that leads to the eating places.  We talk, of course, about the gravel.  Like me, Dave thought he was in for 5.2 miles of gravel.  Steve, at one point, maybe other than lunch, says that maybe we should ask Diesel to do a bike wash to get the dust off our rides.  Everyone knows that bike cleaning will be on our weekly agendas this week. 

It seems like a rather long trek back to the third store stop.   My lungs are gasping on hills partially because they always gasp on hills but partially because of the mucus filling my body.  The scenery which includes lots of green fields, daisies, and falling Catalpa blooms delights me eyes, though, and the stories and conversation make the miles pass.  At the store, Jon laughingly tells the group about my text to Dave following our pre-ride century to Story checking the roads for the stage. 

 

There are only 22 miles left following the store stop and only a couple of climbs, then where is a long downhill section toward the finish in Henryville.  A large group has formed.  At the store stop, Glenn, Tom, and Dave Frey have joined the rest of us forming a group of 9.  And we finish with laughter and smiles on our faces.   Four of us go for pizza before heading home.  Thanks, Diesel, for captaining.  Your course rocked.   And as I think about it, the roasting was so enjoyable that the ride would not have been nearly as enjoyable without the gravel;-)  

 

Finishers:

 

Vince Livingston        3:40         group of 1

 

John Dippold            3:42            group of 3

 Ed Shaffenberger    3:42            group of 3

 John Minnuli           3:42            group of 3

 

Joe Bolan                  3:46            group of 1

 

Fritz Kopatz            3:53            group of 3

Thomas Nance        3:53            group of 3

Jason Willis            3:53            group of 3

 

Jerry Talley            3:57            group of 2

Jeremiah Westerndorf    3:57    group of 2

 

Keith Baldwin            4:02        group of 2

Bob Evancho               4:02        group of 2

 

Jon Wineland               4:42        group of 1

 

Larry Preble            4:48        group of 9

Glenn Smith            4:48        group of 9

 David Frey            4:48        group of 9

Michael Kamenish    4:48     group of 9

Bob Grable            4:48        group of 9

 Steven Sarson    4:48        group of 9

Tom Askew        4:48        group of 9

Dave King        4:48         group of 9

Melissa Hall    4:48        group of 9 

      

 

 

TMD STAGE 6 RIDE REPORT: Story Century

"I get the news I need on the

weather report.  And I have nothing

to do today but smile."

Paul Simon

 

One of the worst things about ride captaining can be making decisions about whether to have or to cancel a ride due to weather.  There are those days where it "might" rain or it "might" storm or there "might" be winds strong enough to knock a telephone pole.  If you cancel, particularly if it doesn't rain or hail or storm or there is not a tornado,  someone is always upset.  If you don't and someone gets hurt or doesn't ride due to potential danger, you shoulder blame.  But today is not one of those days.  I have been holding my breath all week long waiting for the ax to fall, but it does not.  Despite all the recent rain and wind, today is predicted to be partly sunny with light winds and a high of around seventy degrees; in other words, perfect cycling weather.

 

Story Century holds many memories for me. It is where Matt "Pocket Chicken" Tindal, someone who used to ride with us, got his name because he carried his lunch in his pocket.  It is the century Mark "Deacon Dog" Rougeux and I rode one day when it literally poured buckets of rain all day long after we had assured ourselves before starting that the rain would stop.  It was chilly that day, and Mark, on his recumbent, had to deal with finding that his riding position allowed rain to enter the sleeves of his rain jacket puddling in the arms.  It was the century where Bill "Cisco" Pustow and a small group actually took the time to eat breakfast inside and how we laughed when the waitress was handing out bills and literally sang "William."  It was the century where a man I didn't know showed up in new white shoes training for the RAIN ride and got so upset when we reached the gravel section even though it was advertised on the ride description saying, "You've got to be kidding me."  (That section has since been rerouted by popular demand;-) And of course it is the century Jon "Lunchbox" Wineland and I rode just under two weeks ago to check the route arriving to find that the grill was not going and we would have to ride twenty two extra miles to find nourishment.  I was NOT jovial by the time we reached Brownstown as the man who stopped to try to talk to us while we were searching for food found out when I did not respond to his bantering. And I could bore you and go on, but I will not.  

It is a large crowd that gathers for the ride on this glorious day.  Amelia Dauer, Tom Askew, Steven Sarson, Fritz Kopatz, Bob Grable, Larry Preble, David King, Harley Wise, John Dippold, Jon Wineland, Steve Rice, Bob Evancho, Keith Baldwin, Mark Rougeux, Jerry Talley, David Frey, Steve Puckett, Michael Kamenish, Terrell Brown, Ben Simmons, Jeremiah Wertendorf, and Glenn Smith all fill the parking lot.  I ask Jerry if Sharon is coming today because, while I only see the back side of her riding off in the sunset, it is good to have other women riding.  Sadly, he says she is not. And the parking lot is full.  Any other riders would have had to park in the spill over lot. Dave King surprises me by not pulling into the parking lot with squealing tires about one minute before the ride start.  Instead Glenn Smith and another rider are the last to arrive.  

The parking lot fills with the sound of chatter, laughter, and bicycle sounds:  brakes tested, front wheels put back on, bikes being tested.  Meanwhile, the sky is blue with a few clouds.  The air has a bit of a bite in it, but it is one of those days when one knows the chill is quite temporary and will be tempered quickly by the sultry the sun.  I tease Mark Rougeux when he is talking about something and says, "Just call me stupid."  I announce that a new Mad Dog is born.  I warn everyone not to go out too fast, that the hills are almost all in the middle of the ride, and to stop at stop signs as they are there for a reason.  I also ask embarrass myself, as usual, by not recognizing Ben.  Ben loses the ability to gain a point as a new rider when he admits to having ridden with us previously. 

 

Of course, we all disregard my warning, at least about going out lickety-split, and the fun begins.  Amelia is the first to notice that we are going 17 to 18 mph, a pace the front riders will probably hold but those of us in the back will not.  Being sensible and not wanting the end to turn into a death march, she reels some of us in the back to more sustainable pace.  I am grateful for this.   While nobody bonks on the ride today, this may be one of the reasons.  Even the back of the pack today averages 15.4.  

 

When we reach the Shield's covered bridge, of my group, only Steven Sarson and I ride through the bridge.  The others take the new road.  Steve Puckett stops to take a photograph and I wait.  It does not take us long to catch up. Shortly thereafter is the first climb.  It is not much of a climb, but your legs do know it IS a climb and after all the flat tend to protest.  After we crest, we near the first store.  I think of how many stores there were when I first put this route together.  Three no longer in business.  

Jokingly, I ask the group if I should announce Mark's new Mad Dog moniker:  Stupid Dog.  Steven tells me that Mark is now appearing on television locally and Steve P. also has seen him.  He is dressed in his religious attire as a Deacon.  Steven suggests calling him Deacon Dog.  Later I will make the announcement only to be reminded that Mark has two other Mad Dog names;  Rocky and Ass Whisperer.  You can ask him about those nicknames;-)  Oh, my memory.  Isn't old age wonderful?

 

There are two possible first stop stops in Freetown:  Dollar General and Denney's.  Normally, unless I have to use the bathroom, I like to stop at Denney's supporting what is an old country store, not the restaurant.  But because of the bathroom, everyone stops at Dollar General.  It is a long stop as a woman beats the group to the restroom and is in no rush to depart.  One bathroom, 23 riders, and one woman who is having issues.  You do the math.

 

 I laugh at John when he tells me he was about to pop on arrival as there is no place on the first of the route to stop.  And there isn't.  It is mostly flat farmland other than the one hill mentioned previously and there is no forest.  While I have always asserted it is easier for a man to relieve himself during a ride than a woman, (other than France where they don't seem to care if you pull your pants down at the side of the road) it is not easy for either without the cover of corn fields or trees.  Earlier, before the ride started, I failed to recognize John.  It is odd how different people look without their helmets on.  Once again, I know who he is.  

 

We head onward toward Story.  This is where the hills begin.  I forgot to remind everyone that the hill we used to have to walk because the road had cracked and slid halfway down the hill and they had closed it placing gravel at the top had finally been mended.  It is not a terribly long hill, but it is a terribly steep hill, as Joe Ward used to say, a "gut buster."  Now, with the road being open,  there is no excuse to walk.  Everyone clambers up only to face the hills that will assault us until lunch.  Still, this middle section is my favorite part of the ride.  I notice daisies in the fields for the first time.  Some of the fields have the yellow flower cover.  I even see a few corn plants that are showing themselves.  

 

When we arrive at Story, a group of five, most of the others are there.  There are a few that have not stopped, but the majority have.  We order at the grill and sit outside chatting and listening to the guitar player.  He looks to be a few years older than me and many of his songs are from my younger years.  Lunch at Story is never cheap, and I forewarned riders in the ride description, but something happens this time that has never happened on our prior visits.

 

Some of us order potato chips with our meal.  In the past, they have always given us a bag of chips.  Amelia gets her food first and there are about 5 potato chips.  When I get mine, there are "maybe" five, four or which are crumbled into small bits.  Others have the same experience.  I later joke about at least there were five since nobody can eat just one.  (Older readers will get that).  I am told that Keith had the good sense to complain and received more. The rest of us eat our four or five potato chips, our sandwich, and move on.  As we are leaving, I notice that the people that ordered after us got full bags of chips.  I joke to Amelia that it really wasn't fair as those people had not ridden sixty miles to get there and didn't NEED a whole bag of potato chips.  

 

We leave with smiles on our faces ready to meet the worst and last hill a few miles down the road.  It is long and is one of those hills that rather than having the steep part at the bottom and flattening out, has the steeper part near the top.  But we climb with the knowledge that once this hill is properly vanquished, there will be no more until Brownstown.  After all, Garmin tells us so.  

 

By now it is Tom Askew, Amelia Dauer, Bob Grable, Steve Sarson, Steve Puckett, and myself.  I joke with Bob that he is going to lose his first place in the standings if Larry finishes with a large group.  Bob banters back that maybe one of us could have a flat tire and he could stop and help.    We make it to Brownstown.  The middle group is just finishing when we arrive.  Some of us go to Dairy Queen and some to the gas station before heading back out and making the last significant climb of the day.  It is a short but very steep scarp, one of those climbs that somehow looks easier than it is.  But everyone makes the climb for the last flat stretch toward home.  

 

I assume that we must have had at least a light tail wind just from the speed with with we finish those last few miles.  Somewhere along the way, we pick up Glenn who went off course and picked up a few miles.  I later learn that Jeremiah also went off course and added quite a few miles. Not even the normal stampede for the barn accounts for our increased speed. 

 

  When we arrive, most have left but  a few are there and spend time chatting before heading out, some to join me for dinner at Cracker Barrel and others for their homes.  Diesel sticks the water bottles he borrows in the pockets on the back of my jersey and everyone laughs when he teases that he is playing with my jugs. It is always good to end a ride with jokes and laughter.    No known mechanicals on the ride.  No known flats.  No spills or accidents.  No bonking or DNF's.  It was a good cycling day.  Thanks, all, for your great attitudes and coming out to play!  

Steve Rice:                3:30 p.m.        Group of 2

 

Mark Rougeux:         3:30 p.m.        Group of 2

_________________________________________________

 

John Dippold:            3:55 p.m.         Group of 3

 

Fritz Kopatz:              3:55 p.m.         Group of 3

 

Jerry Talley:                3:55 p.m.         Group of 3

 

_______________________________________

 

Bob Evancho:            4:14 p.m.        Group of 10

 

Larry Preble:                4:14 p.m.     Group of 10

 

Jon Wineland:            4:14 p.m.         Group of 10

 

Keith Baldwin:        4:14 p.m.        Group of 10

 

Harley Wise:            4:14 p.m.        Group of 10 

David Frey:            4:14 p.m.        Group of 10

 

Michael Kamenish:  4:14 p.m.        Group of 10

 

Jeremiah Westerdorf:    4:14 p.m.       Group of 10

 

Ben Simmons:                4:14 p.m.         Group of 10

 

David King:                    4:14 p.m.         Group of 10

 

____________________________________

 

 Glenn Smith            4:37 p.m.            Group of 8

 

Terrell Brown:        4:37 p.m.            Group of 8

 

Tom Askew:            4:37 p.m.            Group of 8

 

Steven Sarson:         4:37 p.m.            Group of 8

 

Steve Puckett:        4:37 p.m.             Group of 8

 

Melissa Hall           4:37 p.m.            Group of 8

 

Amelia Dauer:          4:37 p.m. Group of 8   

          

 

 

 

Ride Report on the Highlander 100: TMD Stage 5

"Laughter is a uniting force, it 

brings people together, and it makes

hardship easier."

Montaigne

 

Not to malign Backpack Bob, but it was a shitty ride start.....literally.  It was not the location of the ride start nor the people gathered there nor the parking available.  It was literally the smell of excrement that clung and permeated the air from the nearby septic tank being pumped.   But even that did not stop the smiles and laughter and nervous chatter as people gathered to ride and explore new roads on a course that Bob took the time to put together.

 

I love new courses and am always happy to see a new route as a tour stage.  I know that there are those that love the repetition of certain courses, and I myself have some of that in me, but I also truly enjoy rolling down roads I am not familiar with or that I am familiar with but have been put together in a different way that what I am used to.  One of the things I love about riding is not knowing what awaits right around the next turn, and this is amplified by a new course that holds no expectations. So I have looked forward to this ride despite Bob talking about all the hills.  Experience has taught me that hills often bring the best scenery, and this course will not disappoint with its 28  Wahoo climbs.   Bob always does a great job at course design so I know I won't be disappointed.

 

It is a nice turnout and the weather is predicted to be nice.  Bob Grable, Tom Askew, David Frey, Harley Wise, Amelia Dauer, Fritz Kopatz, Zeke Ledford, Larry Preble, Jerry Talley, Mike Kamenish, Dave King, Bob Evancho, Joe Bolan, Vince Livingston, Alan McCoy, Sharon Jetter, Keith Baldwin, Jon Wineland, John Dippold, Terrell Brown, John Killebrew, and I am there.   I am rather surprised to see Vince again as someone told me his event, the TransVirginia, https://www.transvirginia.org/about/, is coming up next week, but I assume this is a last training ride.  I feel certain he will do well. 

 

While in the parking lot, however, my GPS is not working.  It has given me problems since I bought it and they are replacing it, but I did not want to send it back until after this ride as usually it works.  I have my old one, but I know the battery will not last for a century, hence the new one.   But today was one of the days when it doesn't, at least at first.  As we head out, after the pack as Bob has stayed with me until I finally admit defeat, I remind him to tell me of turns.   I have been spoiled by the additional layer  of safety conferred by a GPS unit and don't want an accident caused by one person turning and the other not turning as I witnessed happening and was even involved in on occasion in the past.  

 

It's rather odd, how things change and how quickly they change.  When I first started riding nobody had a GPS unit. In fact, most did not have cell phones.  I really don't remember anyone having one.   Larry "Gizmo" was the first person I knew to have a GPS.  I believe it was a DeLorme.   Now most people have one though there are a few that navigate by their phone and one that uses a watch (sorry I can't remember who you are).  Jon Wineland still navigated via cue sheet when I first me him and before he was seduced by Garmin.  I learn later, after the ride, that Joe Bolan still navigates without GPS from a cue sheet.  His wife, Janet, calls this his Amish GPS and makes me grin.  

Bob and I are way behind the others and the front group is getting ready to leave by the time we hit the first store stop.  I appreciate Bob's patience with me in the parking lot and with my slower pace.  I know I need to ride conservatively since I am planning on riding another century tomorrow.  Amelia falls back with us at the store stop and the three of us will ride the rest of the day together.  

I fall in love with the greenness of the scenery which is a nice mix of farm land, forest, and houses.  The recent rain, while wearying and playing hell on training, along with the cool nights and warmer days, has caused everything to appear lush and bucolic.  Spring is always that way, but sometimes more than others.  As I ride, I think that spring is almost behind us.  Summer, as usual, sneaks up quickly. We pass tons of wildflowers.  The only negative is the unplowed, unplanted fields we pass.  The rainfall has impeded the farmers and while I see the occasional field that shows signs of being planted, most seem to remain barren.  

Not too far before we reach Salem for lunch, we come across Jerry, Sharon, and Fritz.  I am relieved to learn it is only a flat and is not a fall.  Jerry is fixing his third flat of the day.  Sharon and Fritz have stopped with him.  Bob and I stop.  Amelia rides on saying she will meet us in Salem.  Jerry says he finally found the piece of glass hidden in his BRAND NEW tire that was causing the flats, gets the tire inflated with a hand pump, only to have the stem pop out.  Fritz says he has an extra tube if the tire should flat again.

 

I loan Jerry my stem wrench (never used but carried) while Bob loans him his new battery powered pump.  Meanwhile, Sharon and I and then the others chat a bit about what riders need to carry with them, particularly if they ride much alone.  These include not only a pump and a spare tube, but a chain link, tire levers, multi-tool, means of inflation,  and tire jack.  On my Lynskey I also always carry a spare cable.   I smile at the tire jack as I believe I was the first one in our group to carry one.  For once I beat Larry at getting a new gadget;-)  It actually was recommended to me by a stranger in response to a blog post I had written about my concerns about growing finger weakness and its impact on my being able to change a tire if alone.  

 

As soon as the tire is fixed, we roll out ready to get to lunch.  We tell Fritz, Sharon, and Jerry to please go on knowing their pace is much faster than our own.   I get a text from Amelia that she is at McDonald's, and so once again I am eating at McDonald's, a place I normally frequent only once a year or so.  This is the third time this year I have eaten there.  At least it is fast, and that is why we make the decision.  I later learn that Subway was overwhelmed and extremely slow and any regrets I have vanish.  

 

While eating, we see a large group head out.  When we leave, we assume it is all of them, but later Sharon, Jerry, and Fritz catch and leave us eating their dust.  Amelia is not planning on completely the tour, and later Bob and I talk about how if either of us don't attend a ride, the other may be riding alone.  Oh, well, at least we are still out here.  In the end, at least to me, though I would love to be fast again, it is not about speed.  It is about the love of the road and how it unfolds and promises.  It is about how my legs and lungs feel after a good challenge and that feeling one gets cresting a tough climb or the humility one learns from climbing off and walking.  It is about the people and the love we share for a simple machine that takes us places we might otherwise never go.  

Shortly before the third store stop, we reach Bower's Knob.  Now everyone has been concerned about the alleged 14.2 percent climb up Star Valley Way (the easiest climb out I might add), but nobody mentioned Bower's Knob.  We all make it without walking, but I can't say it is not a challenge and that I did not breathe a sigh of relief when I crested.  I have climbed it in the past, but it has been awhile.  I do know it is a much harder, though shorter, climb than Star Valley which, despite RWGP and my Wahoo, I doubt ever reaches 14 percent.  I later learn that Allan McCoy broke a cable at the bottom of the hill.  Jon Wineland was able to tie it off for him.   While laying his bike at the side of the road to help, a tick crawls up his leg looking for lunch.  Diesel teases him that he can get a helping of Lyme Disease for his efforts.  The bike is fixed (though only though tying off and not re-cabling as the cable is internally routed), and they are off to the third store stop and the finish.

 

Bob, Amelia, and I are the last and only riders at the third store stop.  Bob has ice cream and then we head out to climb Star Valley.  Up in the Knobs, we pass some spectacular look outs on Sky Line Drive and even stop for a minute to just look and savor.  Then we finish it out to find Dave and Jon waiting to accompany Amelia and I to an after ride dinner celebration.  David Frey is there as well, but leaves shortly unable to stay for dinner due to family obligations.  

 

Throughout the ride there is laughter and the sharing of the challenges the road brings.  Hills, flats, broken cables, broken cleats......these things happen.  It is truly the laughter and sharing that makes them easier I think.  But whatever the reason, most of us are left wanting more.  And we will be back.  

 

When we finish we learn that, unfortunately, Zek Ledford, had to DNF.  Nobody knew why, but I later learned that he had a cleat issue and received a ride from a Good Samaritan.  I feel badly for him, but there are still plenty of rides that will allow him to get his ten.

 

Finisher groups are as follows:

 

Vince Livingston:        3:25        group of 1

 

Terrell Brown               3:40        group of 1

 

Joe Bolen                    3:45        group of 1

 

John Kiilbrew            3:50        group of 1

 

Bob Evancho              3:56        group of 3

 

Harley Wise                3:56        group of 3

 

Keith Baldwin            3:56        group of 3

 

Jerry Talley                4:02        group of 5

 

Fritz Kopatz               4:02         group of 5

 

Sharon Jeter               4:02        group of 5

 

Jon Wineland            4:02        group of 5

 

John Dippold            4:02        group of 5

 

Alan McCoy            4:10         group of 1

 

Larry Preble               4:14      group of 5

 

Tom Askew                4:14        group of 5

 

Mike Kamenish        4:14         group of 5

 

David King            4:14         group of 5

 

David Fry              4:14        group of 5

 

Amelia Dauer           4:50        group of 3

 

Bob Grable                4:50        group of 3

 

Melissa Hall               4:50        group of 3 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Harrison: TMD Stage 4

"The hardest part is over.

You showed up."

Jess Simms

 

When I step out the door to put my bike in the car, it feels chilly but not uncomfortably so.  I make sure I have a jacket and vest thinking I will use one or the other. I debate between  shorts and knickers, and thankfully decide on the knickers.   But when I arrive at the ride start, it seems like the temperature has dropped significantly and I will end up wearing both.  

Most of the riders are having the same dilemma.  Larry is sorting through riding apparel he keeps in his car.  I notice a new rider, Zeke, age 16, I believe, in a short sleeved jersey.  I shiver looking at him. I end up offering to loan him my spare arm warmers and he accepts. Larry loans him long fingered gloves.  Meanwhile, Harley is talking about whether to change to long pants rather than his shorts.  Amelia struggles with how to dress so as to be warm yet not overdress.  Only a few riders seem comfortable with the choice they made leaving home.  All of us have ridden enough to know that we should be chilled at the start to be comfortable while riding, but it is hard to know just how chilled because it is not much fun having to ride faster than your preference to stay warm and still being cold. Oh, well, misery loves company.  And there is lots of company today.

 

Despite the bite of the air that seems too sharp for this late in April and is enhanced by the dampness, everyone is laughing, smiling, and chatting as they do when they are a tad nervous but anticipating a good ride, a good course, and good company.  The hardest part is, indeed, in some ways over because we made the decision to roll out of bed and come out to play.  I briefly think of how seldom that I regret the decision to ride.  Occasionally, but not very often.  There is just something about a good bike ride that makes me happy, and I know this is a very scenic course, particularly the first half.  By the time spring rolls around each year, my eyes and my soul have been starved for green and color and there is just no better way to absorb it than on a bike ride.  I am always glad when God grants me another spring on the bike.

 

Cars continue pulling in even as we near start time.  Bob begins to fret about whether there will be enough parking.  Twenty one riders show up:  Bob Grable, the ride captain, David Frey, Glenn Smith, Amelia Dauer,  Larry Preble, Zeke Ledford, Joe Bolen, Harley Wise, Jerry Talley, Steve Rice, Tom Askew, Dave King, Bob Evancho, Glenn Smith, Mike Kamenish, Jon Wineland, Keith Baldwin, Vince Livingston, William Gillen, Sharon Jeter, and Jeremiah Westendorf.  It is nice to see two other women riding, though I don't actually see Sharon Jeter except at the start and driving off in her car.   Sharon is very strong and fast.  And it is nice to see Vince Livingston come to a century.  Again, as with Sharon, I see him in the parking lot.  I do not see him driving away.  In fact, I suspect he has reached home and showered by the time I come in;-)  It is also nice to see Southern Indiana Wheelmen joining us again.  There are two riders, Joe Bolen and Jeremiah.  I also have the pleasure of meeting Joe's wife, Janet, before the ride begins.

 

Bob gathers everyone for the pre-ride speech and I later tease him about whether he is trying to take the record for the longest pre-ride speech.  (The record is probably held by Kirk Roggencamp but Bob comes very close this morning;-)  Bob is concerned because just this morning, he was looking at the course and noticed Google has marked a road we are to ride as being closed.  It wasn't closed when he drove the route a few days prior, but we all know that can change overnight.  He has everyone put their phone number on the sign in sheet just in case and tries to tell everyone a complicated work around that I know I won't remember and I doubt many others will either.   I know I will be in the back with Bob, so it is not so very important to me anyway.  And if I am not, my GPS has a "reverse route" button on it.   It won't be the first time many of us have faced an obstacle on a century ride.  He also is concerned that some of the roads may have water on them from all the rain.  But they don't other than a few puddles here and there and water lining the sides of the road.  The road he was concerned about does not end up being closed either.

 

While it is cold at first, the beauty of the scenery soon steals one's attention.  Everything is turning green.  Traffic is light to non-existent in places.   The yellow flowers of spring fill some of the fields.  Bob says he has learned that some are wild mustard (this I knew) and some are wild beets (this I didn't know).  Whenever I see wild flowers that I can't identify on a ride, something that  happens quite often as I never was good with names and am worse now), I think of Duc Do.  Many of you have never met Duc as he no longer rides with the LBC, but he once was a member.   If you are into flowers, I recommend you check out his web page on flowers he has found wandering the roads of Indiana and Kentucky:  https://www.kywildflowers.org.  Anyway, they are beautiful  and  like daffodils,  a sign that summer and warm weather is knocking.  Soon arm warmers, knee warmers, balaclavas, and long fingered gloves will be forgotten and put away and shorts and jerseys and bandanas will rule.

At the first stop store, most of the riders are still there but a few have come and gone.  I don't see Jerry or Sharon or Vince.  There may be one or two others that weren't there.  Someone tells me this is their favorite country store of all the stores we frequent, and I agree that it is a great store.  In front of the store sit two liars benches, one labeled for Republicans and one for Democrats that always amuses me.  The people that work there are nice. Amelia and I share a glance when a non-rider chides the checkout girl for putting his full order of biscuits and gravy in a small rather than a larger container because neither of us can see what it would matter.  David Frey introduces himself and says he rode with the group once last year.  It is just so good to see new faces taking on the challenge.  One of my dearest wishes is to see the tour continue and grow.

 

The group takes off for Corydon where the lunch stop is.   By this time I am riding with Dave King, Steve Rice, Bob Grable, and Amelia.  If you know Dave King, you know that he takes great pleasure in eating, so much so that it is fun to share a meal with him, so I ask where he wants to eat and he says Culver's.  After the long climb up the hill we arrive and find that Mike Kamenish and Jon Wineland have chosen to eat there as well.  They ask about others and Amelia said she saw bicycles at Subway. Mike and Jon surprise me by waiting for us and we head out together.  Everyone is groaning about the headwind, but it does not turn out as bad as I thought it might and we reach Palmyra to find most of the other riders there.  The sun comes out and most of us have stripped a layer or two, but it is still nippy and there is not much danger of overheating unless one really overdressed.

We all head out afterward except for one abandon, but the faster riders pull gradually ahead.  Near the end we find them waiting for us and we all finish as a group of 15.  I try to remember when a stage finished with a group of fifteen.  What is unusual now was once the norm and it was rather nice.   Zeke has finished his first century and since the course is a bit short, signs in and rides it out.   Thanks, Bob, for a pleasant course and thanks to all the riders for a pleasant day.  And thanks to all who came out to play.  It was a great day!

Finishing groups are as follows:

 

Joe Bolan                        3:19       group of one

 

Vince Livingston             3:36      group of one

 

Jerry Talley                     3:53     group of three

Jeremiah Westendorf      3:53     group of three

Sharon Jeter                    3:53     group of three

 

The group of 15 which finished at 4:09:

 

Larry Preble

Mike Kamenish

Jon Wineland

Zeke Ledford

Tom Askew

Keith Baldwin

Bob Evancho

Harley Wise 

Steve Rice

Amelia Dauer

Glenn Smith

David Frey

Bob Grable 

David King

Melissa Hall

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ride Report: Tour de Hanover, TMD Stage 3 2025

"The hard part isn't getting

your body in shape.  The hard

part is getting your mind in shape."

 Anonymous

 

It is with dismay that I see that it is going to be cold in the morning.  The older I get, the less I like riding in cold weather.  Lynn Roberts once told me something I have never forgotten.  "It is harder to be mean to yourself when you get older."  And he was right.  I can still do the miles with no real issue and climb the hills with no big issue.  I am just slower at those things and my knees ache on climbs in a way that they did not use to ache.  I still have all the clothing that makes riding in colder weather less of an issue.  It is the mind that is the most difficult to tame, and if there is one thing that years of distance riding has taught me is that most of it IS mental.  And it is there I begin to fail.  At one point during the ride, Steve Rice asks if I have ever considered doing PBP again.  I tell him I don't really think I am capable and he points out this very thing, that is is mainly mental.  But I lack the mental discipline that I used to have.  Or that is my excuse.  Perhaps I just don't want it as much as I would need to want it to train that hard and to be that damned tired.  

Anyway, it makes a huge difference knowing that the sun is supposed to shine all day.  And while wind is predicted, it is supposed to be about 10 mph not the higher winds of previous rides.  Despite the cold, the riders arrive with smiles on their faces and a spring to their step.....  Well, except for Dominic Wasserzug who arrives only to find he has forgotten to bring his riding shoes.  (Perhaps he smiled in relief on the drive back home;-)  He may have arrived smiling and anticipating the camaraderie and the ride,  but not after finding out, already having signed in, that he was missing his shoes.  After he leaves, the group talks about a few people who have forgotten their shoes but have ridden anyway.  The general consensus is that this is probably not the wisest choice a person could make.  Thomas Nance and another  (sorry, I don't remember who you were) comment on how they have forgotten things in the past as they are used to riding to the start of a ride rather than driving.  I think most of us have, at one time or another, forgotten things for a ride and while I have teased about it, I doubt it is Freudian in nature.  We are, after all, human. 

 

Thomas "The Train" Nance (of course since he was the RC), Larry "Gizmo" Preble, Fritz Kopatz,  Jerry Talley, Harley Wise, Bob "Backpack" Grable, Bob Evancho, Steve "Mule" Rice, Taylor Smith, Bryan Holden, Joe Bolan, Michael "Diesel Dog" Kamenish, Cory Lambert, John Dippold, Jon "Lunchbox" Wineland, Bob Evancho, Camito Molina, and William Gillen all attend.  There is also one other, but I can't read his name of the sign in and don't know him, just as I don't know quite a few of these people. This is not a big deal since he is not a club member and thus not eligible to be a final finisher.

 

 I also notice that, dressed in balaclavas and other winter riding gear, I have trouble recognizing some of those that I do know.  This makes me think of Eddie Doerr, one of the first Mad Dogs, now gone, who used to joke about not recognizing people with their clothes on because people look so very different with a helmet and riding clothes.  Of course, the way he said it lead to lots of innuendos and laughter.

 

Some are newer riders, some from Southern Indiana Wheelmen, and some from Ridenfaden.  The majority all look young, fit, and much younger than me.  The few that are a bit older than what appears to be norm look like they have legs built from years of traveling the roads. Oh, well.  I am just glad to see the crowd.  There is chatter and some joking with Mike talking about the rooster statue at third store stop.   Since it is a bit off color, I won't include it though I did renew it at the third store stop much to the shock of some of the gentlemen.  I never had much in the way of a filter, and I am old enough now to pretty much say what I please.  Well, if you want to know these things, you just have to ride with us;-)  This makes me think of him on a ride that passed through Salem where the store stop had a cow statute.  I can still see him riding that cow.  For those that don't know, Mike has an allure for cows.  On one ride, one that was loose came close to charging him.  But that was years ago.

We roll out and stay pretty much together for longer than I expect us to, but eventually divide into groups based on pace.  Maybe we stay together more because the first of the course does not have the wide, open country roads that we eventually roll out onto. Even the back group is a pretty fast pace for me anymore, but I manage to hang on.  I talk for a bit with a rider I don't know named Cory.  Cory used to work with Thomas in the past, but they both went on to different jobs.  When they were working together, Cory didn't ride.  Thomas did, but not Cory.  They later had a coincidental met up, unexpectedly, at a paid ride thus renewing their friendship.  Cory said he will ride with us to the first store stop but is then waiting for a friend who arrived late at the store stop.  The friend turns out to be Garrett?  (He signs in as William but goes by Garrett I think)  had started the last century on a gravel bike with super wide tires and decided to throw in the towel.  Today he is riding the same bike with narrower tires and later in the ride leaves me and some of the others in the dust.  Bob Grable suggests a Mad Dog name for him and I broach it with him after the ride, but I won't post it yet in case it is a fail. 

Some people stay with their same group and some will rotate back and forth.  Steve Rice, Bob Grable, and I are together pretty much the entire ride other than when Steve left the third store stop before us. It is good to see Bob Evancho for the first time since the fall.  He says that he struggled with whether to come out or not as he has been traveling and had not ridden much in the way of distance.  (He does fine and ends with one of the faster groups).  Bob visits his children and grandchildren regularly and also went on a cruise or two so has been busy.  You could not tell he has not been riding by how he is turning the pedals over. 

 

When we arrive at the first store stop, everyone is still there.  I notice that the faster riders tend to take longer breaks at stops than the slower groups.  Since there was no restroom at the ride start, the port-a-pot in New Washington gets quite the workout.   A few of us ride out while some are still waiting.  This will happen again at the third store stop and I tell people they have been Upsall'ed explaining that when Mike Upsell, a friend,  lived here and rode with us, we once mistakenly, all rode off leaving him the restroom.  He thought we had done it purposefully so was a tad peeved.  Thus the term being Upsall'ed.  

 

At the store, I begin what will be a slow strip tease as the day warms.  I have brought a backpack for this purpose and feel like a girl getting her high school pictures where you change outfits for different shots.  But I notice others with bulging pockets where they also have begun the process of adapting to the warming temperature.  Not, however, Steve Rice and Garrett who make me chill just looking at them.  Steve Rice is in bib knickers, a jersey and arm warmers and Garrett is dressed in even less wearing only shorts. 

The fields we pass are still un-plowed, but that is, hopefully, a temporary situation caused by the rain and abnormally cold weather.  A purple haze hangs over some from weeds that grow in un-tilled farm land.  We even see one field of the bright yellow flowers that flourish in the spring torturing those with allergies but delighting the eyes with their cheerfulness.  And everything is turning a deep, luscious green as earth gives birth.  There are places with wildflowers and even a few daffodils left.  Red Bud trees are in the height of their glory and the dogwoods are beginning.

 

For those that don't know, Mike put this ride together so that it goes through Hanover College where he went to college.  The views there are what make the ride as in numerous places the road overlooks the Ohio River.  I don't stop, but find it interesting to see how evident the flooding remains.  After the college comes the busy road.  One rider tells me this is the part he really doesn't like, and I agree, but it is short and for most of it there is a shoulder.  

 

There are two lunch choices:  McDonald's or Subway.  Steve, Bob, and I got to McDonalds while everyone else picks Subway.  Joe Bolen is meeting his wife there for lunch and I am glad.  I remember how very hard it is when you first start riding with the Mad Dogs and you don't know anyone.  Or at least it was for me.  

 

After lunch is probably where most of the climbing is on this ride.  Bob, Steve, and I leave and are soon passed by a faster group who says there is another group in front and a group behind.  As always, I find the difference in hill count between Garmin and Wahoo amazing.  Their algorithms must be drastically different.  Wahoo says there are 19 climbs today.  Garmin says there are none.  My legs are beginning to agree with Wahoo.   And of course, the pace is faster than I expected.  

We meet up with some, but not all at the third store stop.  During this stop, Jon Wineland laughs and tells me one of the riders that has come and gone rode up and asked him if  he was Diesel Dog.  He told him he wasn't and was glad of it and that he was welcome to tell Diesel that.  I don't know if that information was relayed to Diesel or not.  Everyone is beginning to show the miles on their faces, but everyone still remains in a good mood.  

The ride ends shortly after.  Some of the riders have already departed by the time our group of 5 get in for we are the last group.  But it has been a good day.  The wind and weather was a bit raw, but as is almost always the case, I am glad that I came and I hope everyone else is as well.  We are training our minds for the upcoming, hotter rides which cause a different type of strain.  Thanks to Mike Crawford for the delightful course.  Thanks to Thomas Nance for captaining and his patience with my babbling and slow pace.

Finishers were as follows:

Jerry Talley:       group of 4        2:55 p.m.

Taylor Smith:     group of 4       2:55 p.m.

Bryan Holden:    group of 4       2:55 p.m.

Camito Molina:  group of 4       2:55 p.m.

 

Joe Bolen:           group of 1     3:18 p.m.

 

Larry Preble:          group of 8     3:46 p.m.

Mike Kamenish:    group of 8      3:46 p.m.

Fritz Kopatz:          group of 8      3:46 p.m.

John Dippold:        group of 8       3:46 p.m.

Bob Evancho:        group of 8        3:46 p.m.

Harley Wise:          group of 8        3:46 p.m.

Cory Lambert:       group of 8        3:46 p.m.

William Gillen:      group of 8        3:46 p.m.

 

Bob Grable:         group of 5    3:50 p.m.

Melissa Hall:        group of 5    3:50 p.m.

Thomas Nance:     group of 5    3:50 p.m.

Steve Rice:            group of 5    3:50 p.m.

Jon Wineland:       group of 5    3:50 p.m.  

 

 

Ride Report on TMD Stage 2: Suburbane Century

"There is nothing like 

puking with somebody to

make you into old friends."

Sylvia Plath 

As I drive to the ride start, I think about how it will be interesting to see who and how many show.  This century normally has a large attendance, but this year has not been conducive to training and it is not a particularly easy century.  The weather has been windy, rainy, cold, snowy, or a combination since January. Brevet weather, I think with a tinge of disgust and envy.  Yes, for some odd reason, there is a part of me that misses the challenge of a tough brevet, but this century with the wind and hills will be enough of a challenge for this woman nearing her 69th birthday and knocking on the door of 70.  Where, I think, did the years go?  

 

 Later during the ride I will relate the story of my recent visit with my young granddaughters.  We were walking through the Bible Museum in DC and there were pot shards in cases.  My oldest granddaughter, age 5, looks at her little sister and says, "These pots are really old.  They're even older than grandma."  I laughed them and I laugh now.  No filters, just pure honesty.

 

I arrive right behind John and Susan Pyron who were kind enough to agree to captain the century when Bekki Livingston could not due to some health issues.  Normally we park on the other side of the large parking lot, but it is filled with cars and buses.  I never do learn what the festival is.  Later, before the start, Dave King passes me on my way back from the port-a-pot asking where everyone is.  Had I not followed the Python's that would have been me. 

 

Cars roll in quickly after that, particularly since Jeff Carpenter was kind enough to put on a fifty mile route that hangs with the century route departing ways at the first store stop.  I laugh when Mike "Diesel Dog" Kamenish signs in on both sheets not realizing there are different sheets.  He grins saying, "Well, maybe I'll get credit for 150 miles."  This ride start always makes me think of him anyway as this is where the double century he used to put on every year started from.  How many years has it been since that was a club ride?  Many, many.  I rode it the last time it was offered with Thomas "The Train" Nance.  Either he was weaker or I was stronger because I could not stay with him anymore.

 

 It turns out there are four new riders:  Terrell Brown, Harley Wise, Jerry (I can't read his writing),  and William Gillan.   Other riders that sign in are Fritz Kopatz, Tom "Ambasador Dog" Askew, Larry "Gizmo" Preble, Bob "Backpack"  Grable, Steven "Diamond"  Sarson, Keith Baldwin, David "Bam Bam"  King, John Dippold, Steve "Mule"  Rice, Alan McCoy, Thomas "The Train" Nance, Mark Rougeux, Jon  "Lunchbox" Wineland, Glenn "Clothesline" Smith, Mike "Diesel Dog" Kammenish, Dominic Wasserzug, William Gillen, John Pyron, Susan Pyron, and myself.  People mill around the parking lot as they do before a ride, catching up with people as the bicycling season really begins.  My heart rises seeing some of the friends I have not seen for months and we exchange a few words here or there.  Tom Askew shows me a new helmet mirror he has acquired, one that will, I am sure, arouse a bit of envy from some others.  My jaw drops a bit when I see Alan McCoy is here as I have not seen him at a ride for a number of years, and yes, I hear someone make the joke about him being the "Real McCoy."  You younger riders may need to Google that reference.  

 

Before the ride I talk briefly with Harley Wise, a first time TMD participant and rider.  He asks about the pace and I tell him the group will split into different smaller groups with paces that probably will range from 12 mph to 18 mph.  Harley tells me he has just retired and has set completion of the tour as a goal.  As it turns out, Harley will be the first one in for the day reaching the end at 3:29 p.m.  With the last group coming in at 5:50, this tells you a bit about the pace he was  holding.

 

 At 8:30, the Pyron's send everyone on their way and it is quite the sight with the century group and the fifty mile group rolling out.  A wave of brightly covered jerseys and the sound of chatter fills the air along with the shifting of gears and the turning of sprockets.  As usual, it did not take long for groups to form.  On this ride, that was aided by traffic.  I talk briefly with Jerry, last name unknown, who says that he does, indeed, hope to complete the tour.  I also meet one of the other first timers: Terrell Brown.  I learn that Terrell is not from Louisville but came to this area as a runner for Bellarmine University.       

                                                                             

While I was not present, I have it on good authority that Thomas Nance missed a turn early in the ride going off course.  This made for some ribbing until one of the one doing some of the ribbing missed a turn.  Yes, Jon Wineland who pointed out that with all the turns in the course, missing one was only a one percent error rate;-)  Later, Thomas and Larry would tell Jon that while going through a neighborhood, some people told them Jon was looking for them.  He claims his GPS went a little wonky in the neighborhood, I think he just didn't want to admit missing more turns than Thomas. 

 

 At the first store stop, Harley reintroduced himself to Larry reminding Larry that once, long ago, Larry had bought him  breakfast and telling him that he owed him one.  Larry didn't collect yesterday because he had dropped back to the group I was riding with, but he may one day get that free meal.  Larry would have had to do some pushing to stay with Harley yesterday. It made me think of how kind riders normally are to others when they forget to bring their wallet or have another issue.   

 
Shortly after lunch at McDonalds, my group for the day has formed.  I am riding with Bob Grable, Keith Baldwin, Larry Preble, Steve Rice, David King, and Terrell Brown.  I was surprised to see Steve at the start and even more surprised by how strongly he was riding since he recently had a hip replacement.  He denies it still troubling him.  This is Dave's first ride of the year.  While he complains, he has no trouble keeping up and even beats Steve to one green sign.  (For those who don't know, it used to be a familiar practice during club rides to race and be the first to take a green sign for a county or city).   We briefly touch upon our upcoming bike ride when we will ride from Anchorage to Fairbanks and back.  Keith, who normally is with a faster group, reveals that he has not been riding much as he finally found a new home and was dealing with selling his old home.  Bob has also started a new job as Chief Financial Officer for a local company.  

 

We do not stop again until we are almost finished opting not to go to the Barbecue.  We debate not stopping, but decide it is needed.  The hills are beginning to tell on legs and joints and Larry says he is walking like an old man, then laughs and says he is an old man.  We all sit on the curb and, other than Terrell, groan when get up.  Soon we will face the last hill.   I know it is a bad hill as Garmin counts it as a hill.  Bob's Garmin says there are only four hills on the course.  My Wahoo says there are twenty six.  Jon's Garmin comes in with over 6,000 feet of climbing.  My Wahoo comes in at 5,600.  Regardless, my legs are cursing me by the time we crest Wolf Pen Road and are ready to quit.  And I am not the only one.  I don't believe anyone puked (not hot enough but something I have seen on rides before), but I think that every single one of us, at least in my group, was quite glad to put the hills behind us and finish. 

 

Thank you, Bekki and John Pelligrino, for this route.  And thanks again to the Pyron's for captaining. I'm sorry I don't know more about the other groups and what happened to them throughout the day, but this is how everyone came in that signed in at the end:

 

Harley Wise:    3:29 pm.       1 rider

Jon Wineland:  3:36 p.m.     1 rider

John Dippold:  3:54 p.m.     6 riders

Thomas Nance:  3:54 p.m.           6 riders

Alan McCoy     3:54 p.m.         6 riders

Glenn Smith:    3:54 p.m.         6 riders

Fritz Kopatz:     3:54 p.m.         6 riders

Michael Kamenish:  3:54 p.m.  6 riders

Tom Askew:  4:20 p.m.     2 riders

Jerry (Not sure of last name)   4:20   2 riders

Larry Preble   4:30 p.m.   7 riders

Keith Baldwin:  4:30 p.m.   7 riders

Melissa Hall:  4:30 p.m.    7 riders

Steve Rice:  4:30 p.m.   7 riders

Bob Grable:  4:30 p.m.   7 riders

David King:   4:30 p.m.  7 riders

Terrell  Brown:   4:30 p.m.  7 riders

Dominic Wasserzug:  5:50 p.m.  4 riders

Steven Sarson:  5:50 p.m.   4 riders

Susan Pyron:  5:50 p.m.    4 riders

John Pyron:  5:50 p.m.     4 riders

 

 

Christy Century Backward on a Blustery Spring Day

 "Rainy days should be spent at home

with a cup of tea and a good book."

Bill Watterson

(unless there is a brevet to complete or 

it is a gentle, warm rain good for 

riding in)

Me

 

On Thursday and Friday, I kept looking at the club calendar for a medium distance ride, fifty or sixty miles.  But nothing pops up.  The end of March is nigh and I only have one century under my belt, so despite  the wind prediction, I decide to put a century on.  There are reasons for this.  It has been two weeks since my last century and the endurance benefits are fading and I intend to ride next week-ends century.  It is only supposed to get down in the forties and there is supposed to be sunshine.  I have spent all together too much time inside this past week.  I know I will probably not ride an entire century if I ride alone and conditions get tough. And it is supposed to rain Saturday night and Sunday.  

I love it when it rains the day after a century.  It is as if God is giving me permission to rest and enjoy the fruits of my accomplishment.  I hold it similar to the way I would feel on a brevet when I would be riding alone through the velvet darkness passing houses where everyone was still sleeping and lights were out.  As if the world belonged to me and to me alone along with the rustling sounds that issued from roadsides.  The sound of a dog that you just can't place and that may or may not be a foe.  The deer that, startled, jumps from the roadside into the light of your hub light.  I rarely ride at night anymore, but I still remember it and cherish it.  And I cherish rainy days after a harder effort where you feel your rest is deserved.  God tells us, after all, that our body is a temple. 

I have my doubts as to whether anyone will show for the ride.  Most people in the club rarely ride a century anymore unless it is a Tour de Mad Dog Century, and this is not.  It is a route I have used before, but oddly have never ridden before because for today it is  backwards and has different store and lunch stops.  Strangely, that was not my intention when I put the ride on the calendar.  I intended to do the traditional Christy.  Then after either an email or text from Jon that he has decided to ride, I realize my mistake.  Despite the fact it is just more evidence of a mind sliding backwards, I see the humor in it.  And we run with it.

 

Jon does, indeed, show.  I make several trips over to the firehouse and see nobody.  Jon and I prepare to leave when Glenn arrives.  He says he had been there but left seeing nobody, then decided to do one last drive by and maybe try to catch me via his new GPS unit.  Like me, he has purchased a Wahoo.  Deciding what to purchase was a real struggle for me.  I really miss the street names that Garmin supplies and everyone I know who has one loves their new sun charged Garmin.  But my past experience with Garmin and their help desk soured me though I have heard from numerous people that it is now much improved.  In the end, I decide that I need something easy to use and this trumps all.   I still roam occasionally, but am more careful distance wise than in the past.  Anyway, the ease of use and the price distance were the final deciding factors.   Still, this Wahoo functions differently than my old Wahoo and I am still adjusting to the differences.  Some I like.  Some I don't.  

Glenn, Jon, and I take off.  I do worry about Glenn because I know I will be slow and Glenn is anything but slow.  He tells me it is fine and that he has been off most of the winter.  I tell him that is what Mike and Larry told me last century when they rode with my group rather than the front group they often ride with.  Winter was hard this year unless you love indoor training.  

 

It feels strange to be stopping for a first store stop at a bit over 16 miles, but as I tell Glenn, the next store will not be until the late forties or more in North Vernon.  The wind is strong and we talk about how we will have a long stretch right into it at the end of the ride.  Despite the fact it is supposed to warm ten degrees during the day and the sun come out, nobody takes off a layer throughout the day.  I came close, but am glad I didn't.  I never sweated heartily enough to justify stopping and I hate those rides where I have to stop and keep putting things on and taking things off.

 

Daffodils seem to be blooming everywhere and I love how they brighten the earth. Nothing screams spring so much as daffodils.  When I see the first one, I know spring is real and I made it through another winter.  The purple flowers that blanket fields are just starting, not yet brilliant but beginning to show in the way that makes you look twice to ensure it is not just your imagination giving you what it knows you want to see.   No Redbuds or Dogwoods yet and none were expected.  Fields remain neglected, remains of last years harvest on their faces, awaiting plowing.   I tell Jon it won't be long now and the farmers will begin.  Soil will be turned or no-tilled.  The greening of the earth is beginning, but it still lacks the brilliance that will come.  Trees are starting to bud out, but the green mist that will appear and burgeon has not yet arrived; it is only promised in the blurring of their stark outlines. 

 

 Glenn rides ahead and we don't see him again until the next store stop in Vernon.  I am glad he feels he can do this.  I tell both him and Jon about my granddaughter at the museum last week-end.  We were passing some ancient pottery on display and I hear her tell her little sister, "These are really, really old.  They're even older than Grandma."  How I laughed.  And the point of the story is that I don't want anyone who rides to feel they have to stay back with Grandma.  Grandma put this route together and is very familiar with the roads and when I point them together, I was alone. Indeed, while I love to share a course I put together, I would rather ride alone than have someone have to ameliorate their pace to match my slower one.  I was once fast enough to know how painful that slowness can be.  

 

Before the lunch stop, Glenn begins to fade and asks me to reach and get him a gel.  I suggest we stop and he get it not saying but thinking it would not be good if I knocked both of us down onto the pavement trying to reach into his pocket.  While we are stopped, I think of one brevet where Steve Rice was too cold to retrieve his gel and how I had to help him since his fingers were no longer working the way they should. This leads to the time I could not get my gloves back on my damp hands and he put them on me as if I were a child.  We are very near lunch when this happens and we reach the lunch stop with no issue.  Unfortunately, the restaurant is not yet open but the winery is with a reduced menu.  I tease Jon about my being right about the opening only to later find neither of us was right.  The opening was not this week-end as he believed or next week-end as I believed, but this coming Wednesday. 

 

The waitress is familiar with us as we ride there in the summer quite often and brings a round of water with lemon for everyone without even asking.  The food is delicious though a bit on the pricey side.  Surprisingly, service is quick despite the nice size crowd there when we arrive. Lunch seems to revive Glenn and while he stays with us the rest of the ride, he could obviously drop me if he would like as could Jon.  

 

After lunch the sun is out full blast, but the wind has not dropped and remains strong, flags whipping out wildly.  At times, it is slow going,  but if you are going to ride, you have to accept that there will often be wind trying to push you backwards.  On the reverse side, there are times when it pushes you forward, but not on this ride, at least at this point in the ride. Toward the end it is all headwind.  We decide that with the late lunch, we don't need another store stop and finish the ride out.  The last half mile or so is the only little bit without a head wind and it is good to turn and have just a crosswind.  It is even better to see the end.   I have enjoyed the ride and while I could ride further if necessary, my strength is ebbing.

But I like knowing that I did not waste the day and that I have prepared myself for the next century.  The wind made the preparation even more valuable as it tests not only the body, but the mind, and in distance riding one's mind is just as or more important, that ability to work through the times you want to stop but really don't have to.  Maybe life is like that at times?  Anyway, it was good to see spring. And now I can sit and read and write and listen to the rain outside with the satisfaction of knowing my body really does need the rest and recovery and that I did not waste the week-end and what turned out to be, following a cloudy morning, beautiful spring day.  Even though I am not as old as the pots in the museum, I still am old. The day is coming when this door will also be closed to me, but not yet.  I am blessed.