"Alas, the summer sun can't last
forever. The days will grow cooler and
shorter and our skin will once again pale."
Sarah McLean
With the promise of ninety degrees or more later in the day, I walk out my door to head for the ride clad only in riding shorts and a short sleeved jersey. "Will this," I wonder, "be the last ninety degree day?" There is the mere hint of fall's coolness in the morning air, but it is just that: a hint and promise of what is not yet here but inevitably will become reality. Leaving for a ride scantily clad will become less and less likely to be a reality. And it is dark. Even for a ride starting at 8:00 a.m. there is a bit of driving in the dark to reach the starting point. "Where," I ask myself as I drive, "did the summer run off to?" for it does not seem that enough time has passed for it to end. I have always read that as you age, time passes more quickly. Sometimes it does and at other times it drags, but the seasons certainly fly. Well, all except winter which can seem like it is eternal when it clutches the world with arthritic ridden fingers that will not seem to unclasp and will not allow themselves to be pried apart.
While I leave plenty of time and arrive forty five minutes prior to the ride start, there are others there before me. Car after car pulls in. Because there are two rides today, a shorter ride and a TMD century, it is hard to tell which distance people are riding. There are smiles on faces and a swirling quilt of brightly colored jerseys weaving in and out as people go about their business of getting ready. There is the soft, somehow comforting, murmur of talking and occasional peals of laughter or chortling that bring a smile to my face. There are the sounds of wheels turning and gears shifting as people make sure everything on their bike is in order and working. I hear Mike Kamenish tease Jon Wineland who is returning a cooler to me about whether he had brought body parts to the ride for disposal (yes, only Mike) and I think how much I cherish the anticipation that fills the air for it is summer and we are about to explore the world on bicycles. The day shines with promise.
As it turns out, Paula and Dee have 24 riders show up for their century, a century that was designed by Jon Fong who is not longer with us and is much missed. I suspect he touches many riders hearts today in thought and prayer and a reminder of how, despite our apparent health and strength, fragile we are. Riders are as follows: Paula Pierce, Steven Sarson, Larry Preble, Tom Askew, David Frey, Bob Evancho, Dee Schreur, Fritz Kopatz, Dominic Wasserzug, Vince Livingston, Jon Wineland, Harley Wise, Bob Grable, David King, Keith Baldwin, Michael Kamenish, Jerry Talley, Glenn Smith, Brad Conrad, Brian Corbett, Todd King, Terrell Brown, and myself. Jackie Roundtree also rode the century, but did not sign in on the century sheet, so I don't know if it was unplanned or what. I email her and find it was a miscommunication between her and another rider.
Paula gives her pre-ride speech. When she is done, we dribble out of the parking lot, heading through the busier parts of town to the country where traffic will be much less frequent or heavy. We pass a park where young people are having football practice and it is nice to see so many families. I miss those days when my husband was alive and the children were involved in activities that required our attendance. Glenn Smith and Jon Wineland realize within a mile that they each have forgotten something and turn back. Glenn had forgotten his backpack and Jon his food that he carries with him. It is a good thing Jon remembered as I understand every last bit was consumed prior to the end of the ride.
The pace is quick and I decide that I need to pace myself better and fall back. Dee falls back shortly afterward and she, Ann Stainback, and I ride together for a short bit. Ann is quite strong but states that she lags on hills. I suggest that she work on using her breath as one does in Pilates. Hills are hard for most of us, though there are some that seem to be built to climb. I giggle to myself when she, after telling me what an inspiration Bernice was to her when she first started riding, says I am the new Bernice. I giggle because I remember Claudia telling me, after we climbed Oregon Road on a brevet, that I was amazing because I was her mother's age and her mother could not climb that hill. I giggle also remembering how when I first started riding, Bernice once said something about people "our" age despite the fact I was around twenty years younger than she. I know Ann means it as a compliment and wonders if she realizes how big of a compliment it is. Bernice was one spectacular woman, riding until she was ninety or so and still riding two days before her death. There will never be anyone like her.
Dee and I talk briefly. Dee is one of the heroines of this ride having had knee surgery and having only completed two fifty mile rides yet honoring the commitment she made to co-captain the century with Paula. I later learn that she also had to contend with a worn out cleat that kept coming undone from time to time. Some people are just built tough. Dee is one of them. In fact, both of Dee and Paula are Mad Dog heroes as are some others agreeing to captain a stage despite the fact they have no intention of completing the Mad Dog Challenge this year thus giving back. It strikes me that there are more females on this stage than on any of the others that I attended: Paula, Dee, Jackie, and me. It is something that has grieved me over the years, the lack of females in distance riding, but I have come to accept that it is what it is.
Forgetting my resolve to slow my pace, Glenn and I head out toward Boston. While I keep in mind that this is a difficult course to pace oneself on because of the initial flats, I think I can maintain this pace. In the end, I decide I may have been better riding in the draft of the group I had been with rather than facing the wind with no pull all those miles, but who knows? I arrive at Boston with an average of over sixteen and later learn the group I had been with was averaging over eighteen.
When we arrive, there is quite a group there and it is difficult to know who is only doing the short ride and who is going long. I nudge myself to remember to look at the GPS until the route splits so as not to head in the wrong direction. I stay at the market on a short time, long enough to consume my home-made energy bar and milk, and head out. Later I learn that Jerry Talley arrived at the market with a broken cable. (Jerry is another hero from the ride as he completed the century with the cable tied off for his rear derailleur and only two gears and finishes with one of the faster groups). Jon Wineland helps him with the issue and Bob Grable lends a tool. When I later told Jerry I thought he might turn around, he tells me he wanted to but did not feel he could after Jon had worked so hard fixing his bike. I also learn that Jerry has only been riding for three years though he is remarkably strong on the bike. Well, Jerry, had I not heard what happened, I would never have known you completed the course with only two gears. Well, done, you.
Those of you who know Jon Wineland know that he always appreciates a good road treasure find. He has hauled tools and objects that have been the subject of jokes and admiration. Today he happens upon a large brick sized piece of metal in the road. He does not, however, haul it with him to find a use for later, but is courteous enough to move it out of the road so it does not cause an accident or a flat tire. He estimated the weight at 10 to 15 pounds. Shortly after I understand he caught up with Dee, Paula, and Terrell and would end up spending the day with them. Everyone teased Dee about sandbagging her physical condition as I understand that she consistently surged to the front.
Shortly after Boston, Bob and Larry catch up with me. I tell them to go ahead, but they insist on staying with me and we ride together until lunch. We are now on roads I am not very familiar with which is always nice. But I know that while I am riding okay, I am not feeling great today. Maybe it is the speed I went out at or maybe the heat or maybe it just is how I feel today. I am not feeling bad, but not my usual self either. Somehow the topic of age comes up for Larry and I, as usual, are the oldest of our gender on the ride. Larry jokes that if we were younger, we would have to dance with each other at the prom. I tell him he is lucky this isn't the case as I am not a good dancer and would likely step on his toes.
We talk about lunch and where to eat and end up pulling into McDonald's only to find a large group gathered there. I suppose many of us opted for fast and cheap. Bob says lunch will be cheaper than his store stops. I sit at the same table as Harley who talks about his weight loss and think how proud he should be of himself. I have always thought weight loss is so much harder than giving up smoking. You can quit and never have another cigarette again. You can't stop eating. He and a few others relate the dietary changes they have made not only because of weight but because of health issues and we take a moment to realize how lucky we are, at our ages, to have the health to be here today. Bob Evancho tells of some friends of his who are now having health problems as we talk about how lucky we are to have the health to be here. Keith talks, though it may have been at a stop rather than lunch, about a 91 year old who is in excellent health but is having cognitive issues and how health can be a blessing and a curse.
The group finishes and leaves together, but I know I will not be staying with them. It always amazes me how quickly the group decides to leave and gets ready to do so, as if there were a hive mind. During lunch, we had joked a bit about being Upsalled. Most of the riders needed an explanation as they never met Mike. Once on a century long ago, the group gathered up quickly and departed while Mike Upsall was in the bathroom. For some reason, he thought the group knew he was in there and still left, so being Upsalled became a term for being left behind. I still remain in touch with Mike who rides the roads of the west coast now and is happy to be ride of hot weather. A loss for the club but a gain for him.
The group stays together for awhile, but on the first slight climb I drop back. I have ridden enough centuries to have a sense of my pace, particularly with this heat, for the day is getting hotter and the promised clouds have not appeared in sufficient number or strength to offer a cooling shield. While in Alaska, I lost some of the acclimation to the hot weather, and I find myself draining water bottles more quickly than anticipated. When we reach the turn for the store stop, I debate just going to the Dollar General that is right there rather than backtracking, but Bob wants to go to the store and so I do. While there, we pick up Dave King who has dropped back to ride with us.
Not long afterward, we pick up Jackie and Glenn and finish together as a group. I am looking forward to finishing. My right thigh is flirting with cramping and will later cramp on the drive home (thank goodness for cruise control). I am thirsty and about out of water and my feet are longing for regular shoes. And we arrive.
While some have finished and left, a few are waiting there. Tom is handing out drinks to people with his normal, friendly smile upon his face as if life is an endless source of amusement. Steve, who seemed very strong today, explains that an unknown infection that his dentist found and treated, had impeded his riding this summer. Obviously true as he hammered the course today.
The conversation moves on to Dave King's after ride mu-mu. And sure enough, once Jackie and he have circled the parking lot a few times, he comes out in his brightly colored mu-mu talking about the breeze he is able to experience in this rather odd article of clothing. It makes me grin, something Dave often does and for which I have a huge appreciation. I stay for a short bit, but then head home to shower and collapse on the couch, glad I have ridden but spent. Surprised and satisfied with my 15.5 average for the day. Thankful to God for the day and people and the memories I have made. For our tans will fade and many of these friends I will only see a few more times before the season is over, but I will have the memory of the day, the laughter, the camaraderie of the dogs, the shared toil and sweat and the shared glee of speed and finishing, conquering the course, the heat, and the day. Shakespeare is right, "Summer doth have too short a lease" despite the heat. Most of you will never know how I will miss you despite the fact many of us are not close. During the cold winter I will long for the sight of your faces and the sound of your voices, for your stories and your laughter. Come spring, these things will serve as a tonic. But there are still a few more century rides to go in the tour, including Medora. Well done, Dogs, well done!
Finishers:
Todd King 2:05 group of 1
Vince Livingston 2:41 group of 1?
Brad Conrad 2:41 group of 1?
Fritz Kopatz 2:41 group of 1?
Larry Preble 3:07 group of 10
Steven Sarson 3:07 group of 10
Harley Wise 3:07 group of 10
Dominic Wasserzug 3:07 group of 10
Keith Baldwin 3:07 group of 10
David Frey 3:07 group of 10
Jerry Talley 3:07 group of 10
Bob Evancho 3:07 group of 10
Mike Kamenish 3:07 group of 10
Tom Askew 3:07 group of 10
Glenn Smith 3:20 group of 5
Melissa Hall 3:20 group of 5
David King 3:20 group of 5
Bob Grable 3:20 group of 5
Jon Wineland 4:38 group of 4
Dee Scheur 4:38 group of 4
Terrell Brown 4:38 group of 4
Paula Pierce 4:38 group of 4
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment