The Orangeville Rise TMD Stage

"One day you discover you are alive....

but, not long after, the sun goes out.

Snow falls, but no one sees it, 

on an August noon."

Ray Bradbury

 

Did Bradbury mean for this quote to be so deep as his ink spilled upon the page like blood from his thoughts and emotions?  I'll never know.  Perhaps it is my interpretation because of the stage of life I am in.  How late in life we see, or maybe appreciate, the gift of life....and health......and bicycles.   I am grateful for this perfect August day and to finally be back on a bicycle.  Last winter I had a water leak that took out two of my ceilings and did other damage, and I have been chained to the house as workmen begin to repair the damage that was done.  Today I feel as if I am out of jail, particularly with this weather that is sunny yet hints of fall in the morning.  It makes me have such mixed feelings, for I am happy to be here, to be pedaling and grunting up hills and swooping down descents with abandon,  but I am sad that summer is ending and I feel like I have missed some it.  Perhaps even without the workmen I would feel that way.  Anymore it seems that I blink and a season has passed.  It is just that as I age, I know there are fewer seasons ahead in what once seemed an endless cycle.

 

I am surprised, given the weather and new roads, that so few show.  But those that do show are among my favorite people.  Have you ever noticed that the number of people on a ride somewhat changes the tenor of  a ride?  Or perhaps it is as Thomas Nance points out later in the ride, there is no hurry because the weather is darned near perfect and each of us wants to enjoy it. Bob Grable, Zach Coleman, Trisha Torpey, Thomas Nance, John Dippold, David King, Steve Meredith, Joel Gano, and I sign in.  My original intention was to start early as I have not been on a bike for about two weeks, but with the small group and Steve's assurance that he does not mind riding slowly, I wait.  

 

The group heads out together and stays together for most of the day, something that rarely happens unless there is a small group.  I believe we would have stayed together the entire ride except for what happens down the road.  But that is for later in this tale.

 

John Dippold tells me he has started packing for our overnight trip next week-end, and I tell him that I truly hope Thomas does not forget to bring his comb, a joke from emails where we discussed what to bring upon our adventure.  For those that don't know him, it is a joke because Thomas has no need of a comb.  How nice it is to be among like-minded people and to joke and laugh.  Living alone, perhaps I appreciate it more.  Anyway, a small group of us are looking forward to adventure and it appears the weather will cooperate though it is still too far out to feel confident. 

 

All around us the fields are green or brown with corn that is ready for harvest.  Steve Meredith tells me that they have developed corn which produces much earlier than it used to, and that farmers can now chose between a longer ripening and a shorter ripening season for a field depending upon their schedule and desires.  I wonder if this is something that was developed by Purdue because I know I read in the past that they were trying to develop crops for Indiana that would work with the coming warming of the state.  Steve doesn't know.   Regardless, we pass corn ready or almost ready for harvest, ears turned downward and foliage brown and weather worn and corn that still maintains green.  At one spot, we pass a lovely fence row where someone has planted sunflowers and zinnias along an old fence.  It is surprising to me as I see no house nearby, but I am taken back by the beauty.  We pass Goldenrod, Queen Anne's lace, Bullthistle, and Joe-Pye weed in places.  I don't see much in the way of Ironwood which surprises me.  But regardless, my eyes take in and hug the color in anticipation of the coming winter.  

 

I talk with a bit for Trish and ask her about the photo of her cleats she had sent.  I got it while I was on vacation and did not overly pay attention.  She said she was riding and three of the screws in her cleats (SPD) came loose.  We also talk about her new Mad Dog nickname after Thomas informs me of it:  Torpedo Dog, bestowed by Larry "Gizmo" Preble on an earlier ride.  I tell her that some people get their names right away while for others it seems to take years.  Of course, many of the people who were so good at coming up with names no longer ride.  I, personally, rather suck at it.   I ask if she intends to ride the tour next year and am elated when she says yes.  Later in the ride, Joel confirms that next year is also on his planned list.  

 

We reach the outskirts of French Lick without incident; however, once we  hit State Road 56 to get to a lunch spot, the road has been torn up and milled.  Our group splits at this point due to traffic.  Some of us wait for the last rider to regroup so nobody rides alone on the busy road. Steve seems to feel badly about the milling, but he checked the course ahead of time and it was not there.  Dave sees a bike path/sidewalk and we make our way there eventually catching the other group.  They want to eat at Nila's but the decision was to ride past, turn around, and then return.  Steve notices it is very crowded.  Bob and I go to the turn around, but pull into Dairy Queen because of this.  It is not long before the others return saying it would be a 20-30 minute wait to eat there.

 

Of course, being in French Lick brings back some memories of our overnight there last year and of a long ago TMD stage that came there when the dome first opened.  I think to myself that Dave is probably the only other one to remember both of those trips.   

 

At lunch, Dave King says he thinks that rather than only being able to miss two stages in a row at the start of the TMD, it was four.  I remain convinced it is two.  I later text Mike Kamenish, the only other rider to have been a finisher every TMD since inception.  He maintains you could miss no more than three in a row.  So who knows for sure?  The rules have changed so many times and memories fail us, fading as the years pass. 

 

We head out again together on the bike path which greatly shortens our time on the busy road.  And before you know it we are back on scenic country roads.  This is an out and back course.  On the return, we stop at the Orangeville Rise.  From what I read on line prior to the ride, it is supposed to be about 11 stories deep.  Some say the source is the Lost River and some say it is not.  It does say the Lost River surfaces about two miles from the rise.  Looking at it, it is hard to believe it is that deep, but that is what I read. Steve says they have tried to determine the source with dye, but have never been successful.  I suppose it is nice to know that there are some things that are not known and remain ripe for discovery.  Steve says that next year, he may modify the route to take in some other sights along the way. 

 

We head back out to the third store stop.  The group does split for a bit on this stretch, but it is not long before we are all gathered at the third store stop which is CLOSED.  Now it is not in the nineties, but it is still plenty hot and most of the riders need water.  Thomas finds a pump around the side of the building, but Dave then notices a sign that says it is closed due to a boiled water advisory.  I offer people a bite of the cookie I brought from the earlier store stop since I knew I would not want ice cream or a meal, but most people were looking forward to ice cream as well as water.  Of course, the teasing begins telling Steve he just lost winning Ride Captain of the Year, but it IS teasing.  Everyone knows that this was out of his control and the sign plainly says they normally are open on Sundays.  But we can tell he feels badly about it.  He says if anyone is at the fire station or the Mennonite Church, water will be available there.

 

Bob Grable and I ride off and looking back to finish the last 17 miles and  realize the others have not followed.  We continue expecting them to catch us, but they never do though they come in only a few minutes after.  They said they found people who were able to give them water.  But the disappointment continues.  The ice cream shop next to where we parked is CLOSED.  Oh, well, there are two gas stations where people can get ice cream if not soft serve.  As for me, I head home having had ice cream at lunch. And I am not disappointed.  It has been a great day on the bike with an amazing group of people.    

 

Those that did not ride, it was a beautiful course with perfect weather.  We missed you, Dogs that did not show.  You missed a great course and some dynamite new roads.  Thanks, Steve, for putting on the ride.  I was worried that with my time off the bike I would really struggle to finish, but it went well considering. Soon the snow will be falling and we will wonder where the warm days and laughter went.  I'm glad I didn't waste this day but spent it in the sunshine with like-minded friends.  Life is good.   

 

Finishers were as follows:

 

Bob "Backpack" Grable         group of 2        3:51

Melissa "Puddle" Hall        group of 2        3:51

 Zach Coleman            group of 7        3:54

Trish "Torpedo"  Torpey        group of   7        3:54

Thomas "The Train"  Nance        group of 7        3:54

Stephen "Meat Dog"  Meredith    group of 7    3:54

John Dippold        group of 7    3:54

David "Bam Bam" King        group of 7    3:54

Joel Gano        group of 7        3:54