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Thursday, December 11, 2008
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Tour de Tucson 2008
Gotta post my report from our day at the Tour de Tucson last weekend, here ya go...
Tour de Tucson Saturday 11-22-2008
Another tour has come and gone. Pretty typical outcome for me, miss a few breaks and finish in the second or third pack.
Went down with my wife Meri, daughter and son-in-law Aubry and Justin, friend Jason Destories, and my 15 year old son Taylor. Jason and I did the 109, Taylor and Justin ended up doing the 67 miler. Justin because he never could find the time to train in his newlywed life and Taylor because he couldn't find time to train in his junior high life (along with his broken arm).
We made it down through the (decade-long) Tucson freeway construction to our lodgings at the 5 star Super 8 motel (never again!). Headed over to the check-in to get our stuff and peruse the vendor booths. Drove east to what seemed nearly New Mexico and finally ate at El Paso restaurant (Olive Garden had a 90 minute wait). Afterwards, we went back over to the convention center to pick up our Platinum passes for the race. Taylor got excited because he spotted Bob Stapleton (a good friend of Barry Thomas's btw), he's the owner of Team Columbia cycling team (formally High Road and T-Mobile). Taylor waited for an opportunity and got a picture with him. He also told Bob we'd be over to the Tour of California and that we'd see him over there. Bob was very cool in chatting with us and told Taylor he would get to meet the riders while we are over there. Taylor was beaming, he such a big fan of the team. We can't wait to get over to Solvang for the time trial in March.
I sadly missed Greg Lemond again, Dan McGeehee told me he was around but I could never find him. I a BIG fan of Mr. Lemond and one day will succeed in having him sign my INTENSITY poster of him at the finish of the 1989 World Pro Road Race Championship, his face in the poster tells the whole story.
Restless night at the "Bates Motel" but Jason and I got out to the start line around 5:40, platinum was filing fast so we were lucky to get in near the middle. Riders trying to crowd up to the front like they're more important than everyone else, THAT really bugs me. I can see one rider trying to get up to their team but not the other way around.
Weather was perfect, not too cold at the start and not too warm during the race. In fact, I just had my arm-coolers on at the start, Sterling took my jacket, arm-warmers and blankie.
Typical fast start, riders moving up for a run at the first river crossing. Barry and Kim Thomas were there on their tandem, saw Chris Zaharis and I think Rick Green as well but I never saw the Thomas's again and found Rick a little later in the race. I was positioned pretty well and rode all the way through. Coming out is always a struggle, riders spread out and trying to form packs. I pulled a couple of times to try and get up to Jason's ( lead?) pack but we were too disorganized. I took a pull and closed a bit, and was thinking we were gonna reel them in but when I got off the front, the pack slowed. Not bragging, just saying no one wanted to fight to close and I was pooped. I just happened to find myself in a slower pack, with nothing I could do about it.
There was one more split to this pack a little later up the road. We were in a pretty good head wind and were echeloned back as far as we could. I looked ahead after a few minutes and got frustrated to see a thirty yard gap had opened up. I'm mad at the rider who screwed us by not waving us around and I'm mad at myself for not paying closer attention. About five of us took off to try and bridge up into the wind. We worked well but couldn't pull in the larger pack. About five miles up the road we were done and were eventually overtaken by a now even larger pack. I stayed with most of this pack for the remainder of the race. I know my fellow 5th decade Brumbys Kevin Kellis, Rick Green, and Wade Felkins were in there, Chris too, but don't recall seeing any other Brumbii.
Uneventful riding leading up to the second river crossing, just staying out of trouble and chatting occasionally. Pulled a nice one by going to the front before the river crossing, I thought Chris was with me but it turned out he got held up by slower riders and had to do some walking. I was able to ride all the way to the aid station in the sandy river crossing simply because I had put myself in a nice position ahead of all but one rider in my pack (ok, maybe there were some mountain bike skills involved as well). I was able to refill a water bottle and grab a little food and make it up to the parking lot for a little cleat-banging ceremony in pretty good time. Chris never caught back on, he told me later he could see me up ahead but could never get closer (you're pretty much at the mercy of your current pack). He ended up finishing in Platinum time though, not far behind us, nice work Chris.
That's the nature of this race... miscues. One missed break here, one hesitant gap bridging there, or any other number of things can have huge consequences later on. For example, had I noticed the gap after the first river crossing and closed it, I would have finished at least 10-15 minutes sooner, I just wasn't paying attention at that moment. Also, (and Rick Green (if I recall correctly) can vouch as I believe he was right next to me at the time) I narrowly avoided disaster while flying downhill on Freeman Road when someone up front dropped their full water bottle and I missed it my an inch. I have no doubt I would have gone down at 35 mph had I hit that thing. Didn't lose any time out of it but it could've been ugly.
Again, I just stayed out of trouble and before I knew it we were near the top of Rancho Vistoso. It was here I came upon Rick Frost and he did not look good. So much so that he told me he was thinking of abandoning. This was unfamiliar to me as Rick is always a strong rider. He told me "I didn't respect the race". He explained to me that he had gone out too hard with the lead pack and was now paying for it. He also told me he had also mixed his Cytomax too strong and was out of water. I offered him my unused water bottle and I think he had half of it gone in one drink. He asked me if I needed some back and thinking he would now be ok and hang with my pack, I said no, I told him I would get some from him later if I needed it. About 5 minutes later I looked back and he was way off the back, essentially done as far as riding with my pack went. My heart sank as I only had a third of a bottle of water left and one of Rick's concentrated Cytomax bottles he had exchanged for my water. I had some worries with about 30 miles to go and thought "I aint too proud to beg" if it came to it.
At this time I was in serious debate with myself as to whether or not to drop back and help Rick finish, or go on without him. It's not my nature to leave someone, especially someone who's as good a friend as Rick. This was intense for me but I came to the conclusion that Rick would want me to go on and try to do well. I reasoned that I would want the same for him if the tables were turned. I also reasoned that he could always hook onto another pack after he had recovered or even call his wife Jill as he talked about. Turns out he got a ride back to the finish from Rick Green's wife. Here again, little miscues, an extra scoop or two of Cytomax and too much effort too soon got the best of Rick.
Boy, pretty uneventful to nearly the finish, just chatting with the legend Rick Green, the ageless Kevin Kellis and Wade Felkins occasionally. We were all there until about a mile from the finish when Rick pulled up lame with a debilitating cramp. That's some tough luck, he's fought cramping ever since i've known him. Oh well, one less sprinting specialist to contend with. Rick can really turn on the afterburners when he needs to.
I wasn't fond of the trip down Congress, too many cones and twitchy riders. I had a Robbie McEwen-like moment when a rider tried to squeeze in between a line of cones and me. We were shoulder to shoulder trying to stay upright at 30 mph. He did apologize during the incident which you don't always get from an offender, so I didn't have to put my frame pump in his spokes.
We stayed alive through the last corner onto Granada and went hard to the finish. I finished with a time of 4:49 which is about where I thought I'd be given my spotty training for this thing. On a side note, it was great to see a couple of my old friends in Bruce Stauffer (who lives in Tucson and proclaimed to be very happy about it), and Jared Dayton from Mesa (I didn't even know my mountain biking friend had a road bike).
Jason did well finishing in 76th at 4:32, really incredible for the little training he had. For the 67 mile guys, my son Taylor finished 147th out of 1200 with a time of 3:46, very good for zero training and a broken arm. My son-in-law Justin was awesome at 46th out of 1200 with a time of 3:27, he did very well as well for so little training and this being his first race. We all had a great time and a great racing experience.
So goes another Tour, the joy, the agony, and the unbelievable luck of not crashing.
Jim
Friday, November 28, 2008
Ode to Lorie
My good friend Lorie Tucker nailed another Ironman last weekend at the Arizona Ironman right here in our backyard of Tempe. She was a bit disappointed with her time but I say just to finish is a triumph. It was a fun day as Aubry, Justin and I hung out at Tempe Town Lake for most of the day and watched competitors of all shapes, sizes, and abilities, give their all just to hear themselves called an Ironman at the finish.
I could dive into words about Lorie, nice descriptive words about her character and capacity to achieve but I could never do her justice. I'll just keep that to myself and say "i'm proud of her".
I made an observation, and I told Lorie this, about how amazing the scene was as she made her way out of the chute to her family and friends. I had a glimpse of what it must be like in the afterlife. After all our effort here on earth, to finally be free from pain and then surrounded by those we love, it must be awesome. She was literally enveloped by people who care about her, everyone was happy and the love flowed.
I know... but that's what I saw and felt.
Just another day
Good Thanksgiving out my parent's house in north Scottsdale. Lot's of good food and visiting. I don't get to be with my parents as much as I want with work and all. So it's always good to see them.
Went on a Black Friday bike ride today. Didn't feel quite right in the morning and went to the hospital to work in the early afternoon so I didn't get out until 3. It was nice to go out alone with my tunes and just do a moderate spin. Burned off a thousand cal's so that was good.
It's funny, I got this weird desire to ride the TRW mountain bike trail on my road bike. I know every inch of it and was thinking I'd do a little cross stuff. I was gonna ride from Power over to the park on Recker. Anyways, I had turned around to go back to the trail and was just about to hit the dirt when I got a call from the hospital telling me to come into the ER to do a scan. Was I just spared? Divine intervention to preserve me? I don't know, it just seemed so weird because I was so intent on riding that thing. Or maybe just coincidence...
Went on a Black Friday bike ride today. Didn't feel quite right in the morning and went to the hospital to work in the early afternoon so I didn't get out until 3. It was nice to go out alone with my tunes and just do a moderate spin. Burned off a thousand cal's so that was good.
It's funny, I got this weird desire to ride the TRW mountain bike trail on my road bike. I know every inch of it and was thinking I'd do a little cross stuff. I was gonna ride from Power over to the park on Recker. Anyways, I had turned around to go back to the trail and was just about to hit the dirt when I got a call from the hospital telling me to come into the ER to do a scan. Was I just spared? Divine intervention to preserve me? I don't know, it just seemed so weird because I was so intent on riding that thing. Or maybe just coincidence...
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Overall finishers Sport 50+ Arizona State Mtb Series 2008
I'm sorry, after that last entry I just had to throw this shot in. Fond memories of struggle and achievement. With a side of multiple physical injuries thrown in just for fun. Not sure about when i'll get back to mountain biking, I guess I just needed some time away from it.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
BACK IN THE DAY WHEN BIKES AND MEN WERE BOTH MADE OF STEEL!!
I used to be embarrassed by this picture but now I embrace it as my humble beginnings
Lt to Rt: unknown, Brandon Connolly, Steve Connolly, Jim Wilso
n, unknown, Kent Hatfield, Curtis Clifford, Curtis's brother, Todd Connolly, and the slowest/goofiest member of the trip: Jim Auwen.Moab-circa late 1980's?? Not sure about the year but it was a while ago. Guy trip to Moab. We did the Slickrock and Porcupine trails that week-end. Jim Wilson and Curtis Clifford were probably the best and most experienced riders.
I recall being the last rider to every stop. It was frustrating because I would struggle just to get to where the group had stopped and just when I would get there they would take off. I don't blame them, they had already been waiting for me but it seemed that I could never recover. I fell sooo often that I had to wear full elbow and knee pads. I didn't own a jersey and went with a comfort shirt displaying the Suns. I had never worn biking shorts and was a little shy back then, so I wore baggies over them so as not to reveal the outline of my "special parts".
I remember having a great time, this was a new sport to me and it showed. But just like anything else in life there are peaks and valleys and cycling is no different. Regardless of all that, I will always have a deep love of the lifestyle.
I feel the effects of age on my body and performance but in cycling that's okay, they just move you up an age division so it's all good. I also have softened a bit, I no longer destroy myself in competition and group rides. And i'm more inclined to help others enjoy their experience.
Anyways, I didn't want to get into a self-glamorization thing, I just wanted to give it up for humble beginnings. Later...
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Added some old pictures
Haven't been on for awhile and thought I'd throw a few pictures on here.
I guess the theme of these three shots would be "friends". Words can't describe the worth of these people in my life so I'll leave it at that.
I guess the theme of these three shots would be "friends". Words can't describe the worth of these people in my life so I'll leave it at that.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Just a few other bike stories
Tour de Tucson 2006-- Taylor and I on a Tandem
I'm glad we happened to get into the platinum area before 6 am, it was packed later. The platinum area was way too small as usual and later arrivals had to really pack it in (I felt like Nemo at the bottom of the fishing net). Alot of riders had left their bikes lying on the ground so we picked them up and moved them over to the fence. I noticed at least 5 of those riders who came in for those bikes at about 6:45 were Bicycle Ranch clowns. Good start, no crashes that I saw, and everyone seemed polite. First river crossing, yikes, deep fine sand, now I know what a cow feels like in a cattle drive. I'm still coughing up dust particles. After the river crossing, what I believe to be the second group came together with us in it. There was a pretty good head wind going east and sadly, we fell off. Rode w/ a small group for a while until a group caught us that contained the Raymonds and Hummers, both on tandems. I think we fell off that pack just before Freeman. It may have had someting to do with climbing, for some reason, whenever we did that, we went slower.
Going down Freeman was fun, Taylor and I cruised along and picked up quite a few riders. It was along here that I began this little thing called "cramping", some of you may have heard of it. I hadn't experienced that in a few years and didn't appreciate my body putting me through it again. So, we fell off again and I began forcing the water and salt pills.
Dan McGehee came upon us before the second river crossing and offered to bridge us up to the next pack. Much appreciated, but we couldn't hold on for very long, I kept cramping. I asked him why he was so far back and he just pointed to his rear wheel, I never found out how it happened, but it was warped. I guess maybe to avoid a potential catastophic failure and keep from hurting anyone, he chose to be more isolated. Awfully nice of him to make offer to pull us along though.
We were caught here by quite a large pack and we made sure we worked hard to stay in front of them right into the second river crossing. We actually rode quite a ways in but the sand there was deeper this year and alot of walking riders forced us to do the same. Grabbed a banana for the cramps and we made it through to the parking lot for some cleat banging action. About 2 hours later we were able to click in and we were off. I know the Snyder climb is steep, but it was fun having all those people there to encourage us and joke with. Uneventful riding up to the top of Rancho Vistoso and was surprised when the group that caught us there contained the Raymonds and Hummers again. I guess the Raymonds had a flat coming out of the second river crossing and along with the Hummers had led a chase to that point. I can verify that because I noticed it was usually one of those two tandems who pulled for most of the remaining race. I felt like a frightened little mouse near the back of the pack for most of this time because I was on the verge muscle seizure. Going down Tangerine on a tandem is a nice little pleasure, but that is soon replaced with a sobering headwind as you turn southward along the freeway. The Hummers had been pulling as we crossed the freeway and made a wrong turn up the on ramp. Chad thought of maybe taking the freeway back but realized it was illegal so they quickly turned around and the packed slowed until they caught back on. This pack stayed together for nearly all the rest of the way.
I love it when you're riding along, not paying attention to the pack ahead of the rider in front of you and when you do look up there's a gap of about 20 yards. The guy couldn't wave us around? Needless to say, we were too pooped to bridge and a small group that included the Raymonds and two other tandems were getting further and further away. I kept thinking there goes any hope for a platinum time but our little group hung in there somehow and as we turned East our despiration turned to anticipation of actually making it. Got a little choked up making that last right turn, I felt like we had done all we could and had left it all out there on the course.
It was interesting to see that I had only drank 3 bottles of water, 4 GU's, and half a banana for the race. I know, not enough, I guess if you store enough body fat anything's possible.
I can't say enough about how proud I was of my little stoker, I tell you he never, ever, complained about anything, not a word. He had to visit the bushes a couple of times but only informed me of the need to do so. He was openly vocal to other riders during those last 5 miles about how we could make platinum, kept telling his old man over and over to "push-it, we can do it!". I don't know if they'll give him platinum status or not, and maybe he might not be able to make the time on his own, but I swear he has the heart of a platinum rider.
So, all in all a good time. Tough race, but we told ourselves we would try and have fun which I believe we accomplished.
Jim Auwen
Tour de Tucson 2007 report from my good friend Barry Thomas. I didn't even write up a story about the race that year because Barry did such a good and descriptive job at it.
First thing I remember thinking as I woke up at 3:55 a.m. on Saturday was, "we really got lucky with the weather". Forecast called for about 50 degrees at race time and about 75 degrees and moderate winds by the finish. Kimberly and I dressed and pulled out of the hotel (Super Ocho) at 4:35 a.m. and rode to the start line. Of course the race begins at 7:00 a.m., however if you don't arrive early you will be stuck starting behind four or five thousand riders - many of whom are just looking to finish - not race. When we arrived at the start line at about 4:45 a.m. we were behind about 100 people in the gold line. By the time the race started we would be behind about 500 or 600 people total between the platinum and gold. This is much better than in prior years when we arrived at 5:30 or 5:45a and we were behind two thousand riders.
Fortunately we remembered to bring warm clothes to wear while waiting in line. This helped a bunch because being cold drains energy. We also brought a blanket to sit on while we waited. We met up with our friends Lorie Tucker, Jim Auwen, Sterling Baer, and Jim Sullivan. Our intention was that we would try to ride together the entire way with a goal of five and one half hours. It was really encouraging to have Jim Auwen riding with us as he is such a strong rider. With his pacing and experience, I figured we had a good chance of achieving our goal.
The last 40 minutes before the start we all were getting anxious. We needed to take our last minute potty breaks, stripped off our warm clothes, and slathered on the sun lotion for the long ride. When gun went off I was excited to see that it only took 93 seconds for us to cross the start line instead of about seven minutes when we started in Silver in previous year. There were approx. 5,000 riders behind us and two riders right next to me who collided and went down just as we reached the start line.
Jim A. lead our group out and we were up to about 26 mph within one minute. The whole idea in the first two miles is to be extra safe and to stay away from erratic riders. Turning south on the I-10 frontage road there were lots of water bottles strewn as the riding surface was quite rough. This added to the confusion.
When we reached southbound Mission road we were riding strong and fast. Jim continued to set the pace and did a great job of keeping us out of trouble. After 7.5 miles we reached the first (dry) river crossing. We dismounted and carried our bikes down into the Santa Cruz river bed. It was quite dusty - and I imagine quite a sight as thousands of riders trekked about 300 yards. When we reached the other side we stomped out our cleats and got back on our bikes. Quickly we were back up to speed - however when we turned south onto the Nogales highway we saw one of our fellow Brumby riders crashed and on the side of the road. It is always sobering to see a bike crash.
Heading East in El Tour is never my favorite. It seems that whenever we ride East that the road is both uphill slightly and into a steady breeze. This year was no exception. We took protection from the wind by riding with a larger group - and also sending our workhorse Jim out to the front on Hughes, Alvernon, and Los Reales. I remember thinking that we were making good time and I also > noticed at that point that Kimberly seemed noticeably stronger than in prior years.
When we hit the I-10 frontage road however, a report came up to the front that Lorie had fallen off the back and was gapped. Just two week prior, she had completed a full Ironman and was still recovering. I worried that she may not be able to recover and join the group. In talking with Jim, he said he would fall back and see if he could help her. Kimberly, Jim S. and I moved forward and I took over the duties of setting the pace.
Heading north on Kolb is good fun. There is one climb and there is a good amount of road slightly down hill. It is also wind quartering from the rear which is a nice relief. I felt strong and Kimberly was riding comfortably and confidently at a high speed. We were over 30 MPH for long stretches. I noticed that at this point our average overall speed for the race was 21.2 - pretty good. I knew there was some tough times ahead, but if we could bank some time now it would help us later.
East on Irving is not one of my favorites. Really rough road and uphill, and it seems this is where many people seem to lose their early momentum and faster groups passing them can create tense moments. Our little band of three was able to fall in behind not one - but two tandems. It was almost like cheating! This gave us a great pace for about three miles, however when the road tipped upward more steeply, I was once again in front setting the pace with Kimberly and Jim S. close behind. Over the course of the ride we had picked up several other riders who liked our pace and it seemed like we were with them all day.
At about the 40 mile marker we headed North on Houghton. This is one of my two favorite parts of the race. Up and down - but mostly down. We joined with a larger group - maybe 35 or 40 - and rode the next seven miles at breakneck speeds, finally reaching the second river crossing at Sabino Creek. We dismounted out bikes and started the nearly 1/3 mile trek. Kimberly stopped to use the porta-pottie and I used a tree. She was still paying the price for some spicy food the night prior at Café Poca Cosa. We quickly refilled our bottles and Kimberly mixed in some Perpeteum that she had used to good result throughout the race. Again we had to stomp out our cleats, then wind our way up and finally over Snyder - which is a nasty little climb.
Soon we were heading West/Northwest on Sunrise and Skyline. Whereas I had been feeling really great prior to the river crossing, I now was feeling sluggish and not as strong. Surprisingly we found that Lorie and Jim A. had passed us while we were on our extended restroom break and were now ahead of us. We finally came up on them and soon Jim S. I was really impressed how Lorie had rallied. I had all but given her up for dead 25 miles back. Jim S. seemed to be laboring and seemed to be sweating quite a bit, but gamely continued on as we all fell in behind Jim Auwen's elevated pace.
At mile 68 we turned north on Oracle. This traditionally is where I have struggled as it gradually heads upward for eight miles. What is worse is that it tips up more steeply at the end. Kimberly however seemed to be in more of a rhythm and looked quite strong. I remember she had some frustration with some of the riders who had collected behind us. Some were riding erratically so she speed up and pulled in right behind Jim A. About this time Lorie seemed to fade a bit. As word reached the front that she was gapped, Jim A. said he was going back for her again and that Kimberly and I should head off the front on our own. I felt uncomfortable with this but knew that Jim would watch out for her.
Heading West into Rancho Vistoso I was feeling gassed to the point that I needed to back off for two or three minutes. It is quite a climb and I worried that if I pushed it to much that I would blow up. Kimberly and Jim S. Were good with that strategy so we lowered our speed about 25% for several minutes. One big group of maybe 30 riders blew by. I did not think this was going to be a problem because with 10,000 riders in the race, there is always another group of riders coming. Except this time. We rode alone for the next 12 miles. Fortunately Kimberly and Jim S. shared the pace setting duties and this gave me some respite. Still, I was shocked that there were not other groups coming along and I started to get discouraged - I mean, 12 miles?!. Finally, as we started the long seven mile downhill on Tangerine we were swept up in a huge group of maybe 100 riders. We just camped in the middle of that group all the way down and hardly had to pedal at all - literally. It was good rest and really lifted our spirits as we were over 30 mph the entire way.
Making the southern turn underneath the I-10 we found ourselves in the back third of the pack. The front 2/3 surged and we were gapped. I tried to bridge our back third to into contact but could not make it work. We then worked with about 20 or so riders for the next four or five miles. I was able to sit in behind two or three of them and really did no time at the front. As we reached the last mountain pass, I continued to talk to Kimberly and was truly impressed with her strength and her high spirits. This is where she really started to struggle in '06. She and I climbed together and came over the top along with Jim S. ahead of the pack. At the end of the mile and 1/2 down hill, we turned East on Silverbell. This is always my LEAST favorite part of the ride. 13 miles slightly uphill, always into the wind, with REALLY rough roads. Over the next two miles we were able to form up with a group of about 12 beleaguered souls. I knew we were going to be really close to our target time of 5 hours 30 minutes and that we had to push hard the last miles. The problem was that we were moving faster than most of the other groups so they were no help to us and most of the others in our group were not cooperating. It fell to me, Kimberly, Jim S., and another lady rider (in a Verizon Wireless jersey) to trade off pulling the group. With about five miles to go on Silverbell I noticed that Jim S. was laboring heavily. I was glad that he was able to hang on - he had made a huge effort on the day - but looked to be in the mid stages of de-hydration. Even though my tail end was beginning to really smart, I felt a serge of energy and was able to take long rotations in the front (two and three minutes) - even to the point that the group asked that I slow down as I would create a gap on a couple of occasions. Again I was impressed as Kimberly continued to share the pulling duties and the pace did not suffer at all when she was in front.
Finally we were able to see the Hospital at the end of Silverbell. That is a welcome sight as it means there are only about 2.5 miles left - it also means the road gets smoother! At 1.2 miles to go we turned left onto Congress. There dead ahead were the high-rises of Tucson - a full one mile of dead straight road. I remember commenting to someone that it was like Emerald City rising at the end of the yellow brick road. We all picked up the pace as it was going to be within a minute or two of making our time goal. I looked about every quarter mile at my bike computer watching the minutes tick away. With a hard left on Granada and a sprint to the finish, Kimberly led me across the line - both of us timed in 5 hours 28 minutes and 50 seconds for the > 109 miles. Whew! That was close.
Kimberly was ecstatic with our time. She had knocked 24 minutes off her '06 time and achieved Platinum status for the second year running. I will have to check but I am quite sure she finished in the top 10% of all lady riders. I was so pleased that she was so happy. I was really satisfied with > our ride. It was hard AND fun.
Jim S. came across the line about a minute following us. I think he felt great about his result and he should - he was really digging deep and found something that kept him going. Jim A. led Lorie to the finish, yet let her come across the line in front of him - about six minutes following us. Really an impressive effort for Lorie -- again, she had just completed an Ironman two weeks prior. She really has an ability to rally and suffer on. Jim A. - what a gentleman - what a horse! He has the personal ability to finish as much a 60 minutes ahead of us if he were riding for himself. However, on this day (and on many days) he was all about everyone else.
We gathered with many other Brumbys at the finish. It was great to see so many of our friends fare so well. Truly, we have some of the best riders in the state in our little club. Sadly we saw at least five or six crashes and we stopped counting ambulances. We were blessed with safety and for that I am most grateful.
I can't believe how strong Kimberly has become. There were times I had a hard time staying with her. I think her training intensity has increased this past six months and was especially evident on Oracle and Silverbell. Further, she has become more skilled on her bike and this has given her more confidence to take calculated risks. Finally, she has come to understand her on board fueling. She was disciplined in her hydration and her eating. Again, she had good success with Perpetuem in her bottles and also Bloks (and Advil) in her bento box. She and I both benefited from the E-caps (sodium/electrolytes) to stave off cramping. Of course, our strategy to arrive early to the start was key. This allowed us to save about five minutes at the start line and allowed us to ride longer with faster/more skilled riders.
Three years of El Tour for Kimberly - six years for me. It is amazing how working toward this effort, and then riding the race together seems to bind us together - I cannot ever imagine riding El Tour without Kimberly. It is so great to have something recreational like this that we are both passionate about. It seems to be good for us mentally, physically, and emotionally.
Barry Thomas
I'm glad we happened to get into the platinum area before 6 am, it was packed later. The platinum area was way too small as usual and later arrivals had to really pack it in (I felt like Nemo at the bottom of the fishing net). Alot of riders had left their bikes lying on the ground so we picked them up and moved them over to the fence. I noticed at least 5 of those riders who came in for those bikes at about 6:45 were Bicycle Ranch clowns. Good start, no crashes that I saw, and everyone seemed polite. First river crossing, yikes, deep fine sand, now I know what a cow feels like in a cattle drive. I'm still coughing up dust particles. After the river crossing, what I believe to be the second group came together with us in it. There was a pretty good head wind going east and sadly, we fell off. Rode w/ a small group for a while until a group caught us that contained the Raymonds and Hummers, both on tandems. I think we fell off that pack just before Freeman. It may have had someting to do with climbing, for some reason, whenever we did that, we went slower.
Going down Freeman was fun, Taylor and I cruised along and picked up quite a few riders. It was along here that I began this little thing called "cramping", some of you may have heard of it. I hadn't experienced that in a few years and didn't appreciate my body putting me through it again. So, we fell off again and I began forcing the water and salt pills.
Dan McGehee came upon us before the second river crossing and offered to bridge us up to the next pack. Much appreciated, but we couldn't hold on for very long, I kept cramping. I asked him why he was so far back and he just pointed to his rear wheel, I never found out how it happened, but it was warped. I guess maybe to avoid a potential catastophic failure and keep from hurting anyone, he chose to be more isolated. Awfully nice of him to make offer to pull us along though.
We were caught here by quite a large pack and we made sure we worked hard to stay in front of them right into the second river crossing. We actually rode quite a ways in but the sand there was deeper this year and alot of walking riders forced us to do the same. Grabbed a banana for the cramps and we made it through to the parking lot for some cleat banging action. About 2 hours later we were able to click in and we were off. I know the Snyder climb is steep, but it was fun having all those people there to encourage us and joke with. Uneventful riding up to the top of Rancho Vistoso and was surprised when the group that caught us there contained the Raymonds and Hummers again. I guess the Raymonds had a flat coming out of the second river crossing and along with the Hummers had led a chase to that point. I can verify that because I noticed it was usually one of those two tandems who pulled for most of the remaining race. I felt like a frightened little mouse near the back of the pack for most of this time because I was on the verge muscle seizure. Going down Tangerine on a tandem is a nice little pleasure, but that is soon replaced with a sobering headwind as you turn southward along the freeway. The Hummers had been pulling as we crossed the freeway and made a wrong turn up the on ramp. Chad thought of maybe taking the freeway back but realized it was illegal so they quickly turned around and the packed slowed until they caught back on. This pack stayed together for nearly all the rest of the way.
I love it when you're riding along, not paying attention to the pack ahead of the rider in front of you and when you do look up there's a gap of about 20 yards. The guy couldn't wave us around? Needless to say, we were too pooped to bridge and a small group that included the Raymonds and two other tandems were getting further and further away. I kept thinking there goes any hope for a platinum time but our little group hung in there somehow and as we turned East our despiration turned to anticipation of actually making it. Got a little choked up making that last right turn, I felt like we had done all we could and had left it all out there on the course.
It was interesting to see that I had only drank 3 bottles of water, 4 GU's, and half a banana for the race. I know, not enough, I guess if you store enough body fat anything's possible.
I can't say enough about how proud I was of my little stoker, I tell you he never, ever, complained about anything, not a word. He had to visit the bushes a couple of times but only informed me of the need to do so. He was openly vocal to other riders during those last 5 miles about how we could make platinum, kept telling his old man over and over to "push-it, we can do it!". I don't know if they'll give him platinum status or not, and maybe he might not be able to make the time on his own, but I swear he has the heart of a platinum rider.
So, all in all a good time. Tough race, but we told ourselves we would try and have fun which I believe we accomplished.
Jim Auwen
Tour de Tucson 2007 report from my good friend Barry Thomas. I didn't even write up a story about the race that year because Barry did such a good and descriptive job at it.
First thing I remember thinking as I woke up at 3:55 a.m. on Saturday was, "we really got lucky with the weather". Forecast called for about 50 degrees at race time and about 75 degrees and moderate winds by the finish. Kimberly and I dressed and pulled out of the hotel (Super Ocho) at 4:35 a.m. and rode to the start line. Of course the race begins at 7:00 a.m., however if you don't arrive early you will be stuck starting behind four or five thousand riders - many of whom are just looking to finish - not race. When we arrived at the start line at about 4:45 a.m. we were behind about 100 people in the gold line. By the time the race started we would be behind about 500 or 600 people total between the platinum and gold. This is much better than in prior years when we arrived at 5:30 or 5:45a and we were behind two thousand riders.
Fortunately we remembered to bring warm clothes to wear while waiting in line. This helped a bunch because being cold drains energy. We also brought a blanket to sit on while we waited. We met up with our friends Lorie Tucker, Jim Auwen, Sterling Baer, and Jim Sullivan. Our intention was that we would try to ride together the entire way with a goal of five and one half hours. It was really encouraging to have Jim Auwen riding with us as he is such a strong rider. With his pacing and experience, I figured we had a good chance of achieving our goal.
The last 40 minutes before the start we all were getting anxious. We needed to take our last minute potty breaks, stripped off our warm clothes, and slathered on the sun lotion for the long ride. When gun went off I was excited to see that it only took 93 seconds for us to cross the start line instead of about seven minutes when we started in Silver in previous year. There were approx. 5,000 riders behind us and two riders right next to me who collided and went down just as we reached the start line.
Jim A. lead our group out and we were up to about 26 mph within one minute. The whole idea in the first two miles is to be extra safe and to stay away from erratic riders. Turning south on the I-10 frontage road there were lots of water bottles strewn as the riding surface was quite rough. This added to the confusion.
When we reached southbound Mission road we were riding strong and fast. Jim continued to set the pace and did a great job of keeping us out of trouble. After 7.5 miles we reached the first (dry) river crossing. We dismounted and carried our bikes down into the Santa Cruz river bed. It was quite dusty - and I imagine quite a sight as thousands of riders trekked about 300 yards. When we reached the other side we stomped out our cleats and got back on our bikes. Quickly we were back up to speed - however when we turned south onto the Nogales highway we saw one of our fellow Brumby riders crashed and on the side of the road. It is always sobering to see a bike crash.
Heading East in El Tour is never my favorite. It seems that whenever we ride East that the road is both uphill slightly and into a steady breeze. This year was no exception. We took protection from the wind by riding with a larger group - and also sending our workhorse Jim out to the front on Hughes, Alvernon, and Los Reales. I remember thinking that we were making good time and I also > noticed at that point that Kimberly seemed noticeably stronger than in prior years.
When we hit the I-10 frontage road however, a report came up to the front that Lorie had fallen off the back and was gapped. Just two week prior, she had completed a full Ironman and was still recovering. I worried that she may not be able to recover and join the group. In talking with Jim, he said he would fall back and see if he could help her. Kimberly, Jim S. and I moved forward and I took over the duties of setting the pace.
Heading north on Kolb is good fun. There is one climb and there is a good amount of road slightly down hill. It is also wind quartering from the rear which is a nice relief. I felt strong and Kimberly was riding comfortably and confidently at a high speed. We were over 30 MPH for long stretches. I noticed that at this point our average overall speed for the race was 21.2 - pretty good. I knew there was some tough times ahead, but if we could bank some time now it would help us later.
East on Irving is not one of my favorites. Really rough road and uphill, and it seems this is where many people seem to lose their early momentum and faster groups passing them can create tense moments. Our little band of three was able to fall in behind not one - but two tandems. It was almost like cheating! This gave us a great pace for about three miles, however when the road tipped upward more steeply, I was once again in front setting the pace with Kimberly and Jim S. close behind. Over the course of the ride we had picked up several other riders who liked our pace and it seemed like we were with them all day.
At about the 40 mile marker we headed North on Houghton. This is one of my two favorite parts of the race. Up and down - but mostly down. We joined with a larger group - maybe 35 or 40 - and rode the next seven miles at breakneck speeds, finally reaching the second river crossing at Sabino Creek. We dismounted out bikes and started the nearly 1/3 mile trek. Kimberly stopped to use the porta-pottie and I used a tree. She was still paying the price for some spicy food the night prior at Café Poca Cosa. We quickly refilled our bottles and Kimberly mixed in some Perpeteum that she had used to good result throughout the race. Again we had to stomp out our cleats, then wind our way up and finally over Snyder - which is a nasty little climb.
Soon we were heading West/Northwest on Sunrise and Skyline. Whereas I had been feeling really great prior to the river crossing, I now was feeling sluggish and not as strong. Surprisingly we found that Lorie and Jim A. had passed us while we were on our extended restroom break and were now ahead of us. We finally came up on them and soon Jim S. I was really impressed how Lorie had rallied. I had all but given her up for dead 25 miles back. Jim S. seemed to be laboring and seemed to be sweating quite a bit, but gamely continued on as we all fell in behind Jim Auwen's elevated pace.
At mile 68 we turned north on Oracle. This traditionally is where I have struggled as it gradually heads upward for eight miles. What is worse is that it tips up more steeply at the end. Kimberly however seemed to be in more of a rhythm and looked quite strong. I remember she had some frustration with some of the riders who had collected behind us. Some were riding erratically so she speed up and pulled in right behind Jim A. About this time Lorie seemed to fade a bit. As word reached the front that she was gapped, Jim A. said he was going back for her again and that Kimberly and I should head off the front on our own. I felt uncomfortable with this but knew that Jim would watch out for her.
Heading West into Rancho Vistoso I was feeling gassed to the point that I needed to back off for two or three minutes. It is quite a climb and I worried that if I pushed it to much that I would blow up. Kimberly and Jim S. Were good with that strategy so we lowered our speed about 25% for several minutes. One big group of maybe 30 riders blew by. I did not think this was going to be a problem because with 10,000 riders in the race, there is always another group of riders coming. Except this time. We rode alone for the next 12 miles. Fortunately Kimberly and Jim S. shared the pace setting duties and this gave me some respite. Still, I was shocked that there were not other groups coming along and I started to get discouraged - I mean, 12 miles?!. Finally, as we started the long seven mile downhill on Tangerine we were swept up in a huge group of maybe 100 riders. We just camped in the middle of that group all the way down and hardly had to pedal at all - literally. It was good rest and really lifted our spirits as we were over 30 mph the entire way.
Making the southern turn underneath the I-10 we found ourselves in the back third of the pack. The front 2/3 surged and we were gapped. I tried to bridge our back third to into contact but could not make it work. We then worked with about 20 or so riders for the next four or five miles. I was able to sit in behind two or three of them and really did no time at the front. As we reached the last mountain pass, I continued to talk to Kimberly and was truly impressed with her strength and her high spirits. This is where she really started to struggle in '06. She and I climbed together and came over the top along with Jim S. ahead of the pack. At the end of the mile and 1/2 down hill, we turned East on Silverbell. This is always my LEAST favorite part of the ride. 13 miles slightly uphill, always into the wind, with REALLY rough roads. Over the next two miles we were able to form up with a group of about 12 beleaguered souls. I knew we were going to be really close to our target time of 5 hours 30 minutes and that we had to push hard the last miles. The problem was that we were moving faster than most of the other groups so they were no help to us and most of the others in our group were not cooperating. It fell to me, Kimberly, Jim S., and another lady rider (in a Verizon Wireless jersey) to trade off pulling the group. With about five miles to go on Silverbell I noticed that Jim S. was laboring heavily. I was glad that he was able to hang on - he had made a huge effort on the day - but looked to be in the mid stages of de-hydration. Even though my tail end was beginning to really smart, I felt a serge of energy and was able to take long rotations in the front (two and three minutes) - even to the point that the group asked that I slow down as I would create a gap on a couple of occasions. Again I was impressed as Kimberly continued to share the pulling duties and the pace did not suffer at all when she was in front.
Finally we were able to see the Hospital at the end of Silverbell. That is a welcome sight as it means there are only about 2.5 miles left - it also means the road gets smoother! At 1.2 miles to go we turned left onto Congress. There dead ahead were the high-rises of Tucson - a full one mile of dead straight road. I remember commenting to someone that it was like Emerald City rising at the end of the yellow brick road. We all picked up the pace as it was going to be within a minute or two of making our time goal. I looked about every quarter mile at my bike computer watching the minutes tick away. With a hard left on Granada and a sprint to the finish, Kimberly led me across the line - both of us timed in 5 hours 28 minutes and 50 seconds for the > 109 miles. Whew! That was close.
Kimberly was ecstatic with our time. She had knocked 24 minutes off her '06 time and achieved Platinum status for the second year running. I will have to check but I am quite sure she finished in the top 10% of all lady riders. I was so pleased that she was so happy. I was really satisfied with > our ride. It was hard AND fun.
Jim S. came across the line about a minute following us. I think he felt great about his result and he should - he was really digging deep and found something that kept him going. Jim A. led Lorie to the finish, yet let her come across the line in front of him - about six minutes following us. Really an impressive effort for Lorie -- again, she had just completed an Ironman two weeks prior. She really has an ability to rally and suffer on. Jim A. - what a gentleman - what a horse! He has the personal ability to finish as much a 60 minutes ahead of us if he were riding for himself. However, on this day (and on many days) he was all about everyone else.
We gathered with many other Brumbys at the finish. It was great to see so many of our friends fare so well. Truly, we have some of the best riders in the state in our little club. Sadly we saw at least five or six crashes and we stopped counting ambulances. We were blessed with safety and for that I am most grateful.
I can't believe how strong Kimberly has become. There were times I had a hard time staying with her. I think her training intensity has increased this past six months and was especially evident on Oracle and Silverbell. Further, she has become more skilled on her bike and this has given her more confidence to take calculated risks. Finally, she has come to understand her on board fueling. She was disciplined in her hydration and her eating. Again, she had good success with Perpetuem in her bottles and also Bloks (and Advil) in her bento box. She and I both benefited from the E-caps (sodium/electrolytes) to stave off cramping. Of course, our strategy to arrive early to the start was key. This allowed us to save about five minutes at the start line and allowed us to ride longer with faster/more skilled riders.
Three years of El Tour for Kimberly - six years for me. It is amazing how working toward this effort, and then riding the race together seems to bind us together - I cannot ever imagine riding El Tour without Kimberly. It is so great to have something recreational like this that we are both passionate about. It seems to be good for us mentally, physically, and emotionally.
Barry Thomas
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Rob Verhaaren's LOTOJA 2008 report
LOTOJA 2008
Rob Verhaaren
Masters 35+, No. 352
Lotoja 2008 was the culmination of my “rookie” year of road biking. I
bought a 2008 Trek Madone 5.2 for my 38th birthday on September 13, 2007. Lotoja
was on September 6, 2008. Lotoja is a 206 mile one-day bike race from Logan, UT
to Jackson Hole, WY encompassing 9,000 vertical feet of climbing over three
mountain passes and some spectacular mountain scenery.
Going into the race, I had ridden 7,500 miles during the year, including 3,900
in the four and one-half months leading up to the race. My training partners were
Dave Collins, a dedicated workhorse, friend and reliable riding partner, and Mike
Norberg, a very experienced and successful rider with an endlessly positive attitude,
who naturally took on the role of team mentor and coach. We also rode the race
with two others from Mesa, Arizona: Rick Frost, a veteran of the race who had won
his Cat 5 group in 2007, and Jim Auwen, an extreme endurance rider known for
rides that seem crazy to mere mortals.
The week of the race, I had my bike checked by my usual mechanic and
specifically asked that the spokes be checked. The bike seemed to be in good riding
condition, shifting smoothly and responsively in the weeks leading up the Lotoja.
[Within the three weeks before the race, I had ridden the Tour of Utah 300 Warriors
event (98 miles and 14,500 vertical feet of climbing from Park City, UT to Snowbird
ski resort) and the Desperado Dual (200 miles and 8,000 vertical feet around the area
of Bryce Canyon/Panguitch, UT ) – without mechanical issues and with the bike
feeling dialed-in.] Nevertheless, I had a sense that my bike was strained. I just
hoped I could get another 206 miles out of it without incident.
The mechanical problems started the night before the race. After taking my
bike off the travel rack, I did a typical pre-race once-over and discovered that my rear
derailleur was not pulling the chain up to the easiest gear in the back. I hustled to the
bike shop for what appeared to be a quick fix. Now I was apprehensive but hopeful I
would get 206 miles out of it. After all, it had been riding well the last few weeks.
Rob, Dave, Mike and Jim at the Start
Our Masters 35+ group was the third group off line at 6:31 am Saturday
morning. The weather looked like it would be perfect.
I was just settling in at mile 30 when a spoke in my back wheel suddenly
broke. I was dismayed that after four months of training my target time was out the
window and I would be riding without my riding partners. It looked like it would be
a long day. Fortunately, I was able to borrow another rider’s cell phone, call ahead
to our support crew at the first Feed Zone and ask that they have a new back wheel
ready for me. To my good fortune, my back wheel held together until I reached the
Feed Zone. I quickly switched the wheel, grabbed my provisions and was back on
the road without losing any time. Wow! Crisis averted! Awesome!
New Wheel
At mile 40, I was still feeling lucky about the wheel when my luck ran out.
As we were starting the first long climb up to Strawberry summit, I heard something
snap, and I suddenly could not shift my back gears. The cable to the back derailleur
had broken, and, without the cable to hold it in place, gravity pulled my rear
derailleur down to the hardest gear.
At first I was not sure what exactly had happened and thought I might be
forced out of the race. For a while I kept up with my group by standing on the
pedals for long periods of time. As the climb got steeper, I was quickly running out
of energy. I realized I was not going to be able to hold my group for the remaining
10 miles of the climb. I told Mike, Dave, Rick and Jim I would see them in Jackson
and dropped off the back.
A guy riding with us, Eric Martin from Draper, UT, asked if I wanted to try
to fix it. We stopped, he tried, but he quickly realized it was not fixable. I was
astounded that Eric would sacrifice his race to stop and help me, a total stranger.
Eric rode away, and I plodded along the best I could.
As I labored up what was supposed to be the easiest climb of the race and
with 160 miles to go, I briefly, but not seriously, thought about abandoning the race.
I started thinking about the next two more difficult climbs and wondered if I would
even be able to turn the crank. But I thought, “Hey, this is just a different adventure.
It will be a story to tell. I won’t get my target time, but I will still enjoy a memorable
experience and feel great at the finish.”
Approaching the top of the climb, I caught Jim. Generously, he offered to
switch bikes with me. I had to chuckle; Jim was something else; he was actually
serious about giving me his bike. At the top of the summit, there was a mechanic. I
stopped, he looked at it, but he could not help me. I kept riding.
On the decent from Strawberry Summit, I tried my front derailleur and shifted
to my large front ring. “Good, at least my front derailleur works. I can ride the
descents and flats on my big front ring and climb with the small front ring. No way
to get out of the hardest ring in the back. OK.” At the bottom of the descent, I was
riding alone in a head wind. I slowed until two guys caught me, a Cat 4 and a Cat 5.
I jumped on. “I can’t believe a Cat 5 has already caught me.” They were strong.
Spent from the climb, I just drafted behind them while they took turns pulling. Soon
a larger group caught us, and there was Jim. I rode in that group with Jim until the
Feed Zone 3 where Bridget was waiting for me. She had learned of my troubles
when my riding partners had gone through, and she felt bad for me. I felt bad she
would spend the day alone since the rest of our support group had gone ahead to stay
with the Mike, Dave, and Rick. I told her everything was good and that I would see
her at the next support stop, Feed Zone 5.
I was in good spirits as we approached the second climb, Geneva Summit.
Jim fell back. I stood on the pedals as long as I could, then kept plodding in the
saddle to the top. Over Geneva. “Hey, I did it.” One more climb to go.
I was nervous approaching the climb to Salt River Summit, the toughest of
the climbs. I kept a positive attitude by telling myself that it was steep but that it
would not take long to get to the top. As the climb started, I alternated standing on
the pedals and sitting in the saddle. I was barely able to turn the crank even while
standing, and I was being passed by lots of riders. A few more Cat 5’s were passing
now. “Crap.” One asked, “Why are you in that gear?” I responded, “It is the only
one I have. My derailleur is broken.” – This was a conversation I would have with
numerous riders along the way. People said they could not believe what I was
doing.
To keep my mind occupied up the climb, I was counting how many pedal
strokes I was taking. At the sign marking 1 Km to the summit, I started counting
strokes – 650 to the Summit. Lots of people cheering at the top. I looked around for
anyone from our support group. No one there. Then someone said, “Hey, Rob.” It
was Eric, the guy who stopped to help me back on Strawberry. It was good to have a
friendly, familiar person with me.
We started picking up speed on the decent. I felt ecstatic to be over the climbs
and still in the race. I was taking turns pulling. Our group kept getting bigger as
strong riders came from behind and as we caught and swept up groups in front of us.
The pace was fast, faster than I wanted. My legs were spent from the climbs. If I
rode in the small front ring, I spun too fast and could not keep up. If I rode in the big
front ring, I was pushing too big a gear and draining my energy. I felt weary and
started stuffing my face with the food I had with me. I started to feel better. I was
running low on fluid and fuel as we approached Feed Zone 5. I was looking forward
to seeing Bridget and getting the menu of food and fluid items I had planned for that
stop.
Feed Zone 5 was the usual chaos with riders searching for their support
crews and support crews running out in the road to get to their riders. I did not see
Bridget and stopped and called out her name a few times. My fast riders were
leaving. No refuel. Bridget would worry about me. [I learned later that she had
gone to ask the Ham Radio Operators to locate me.] If I waited for her, how long
would I wait? I chased after my fast riders. “No fuel. I still have a little left. Only
30ish miles to the next Feed Zone. I can ration and make it. I can get neutral
support at Feed Zone 6. An adventure. I am going to enjoy it.” The group
continued at a solid pace as I nursed my remaining provisions.
On the way to Feed Zone 6, a suburban came by with a woman sticking her
head out the window. She was yelling my name. It was Ruth Collins, Dave’s wife.
I waved. “I’ve been found! I am sure they will call Bridget and tell her where I am.
I hope they will wait for me at the Feed Zone. I am sure they will.” My spirits were
lifted, and I continued on. Then I saw a group of riders stopped on the side of the
road ahead. “What is that about.” I spotted an Arizona Brumby jersey. “It’s Rick!
Hey, there is Dave! And Mike, taking a pee.” I could not believe I caught them. I
felt a huge sense of relief and exhilaration. I yelled at them as I went by. They yelled
back and cheered.
I reached the Feed Zone just before Mike, Dave, and Rick. Someone from
the crowd called my name. It was Ruth and the rest of the crew. I start whooping it
up, yelling “Yeaaaah. WhoooHooo.” I am usually not that animated. I wondered
what they and the rest of the crowd were thinking. They stuffed my pockets with
food and water. Bridget was not there yet but on her way. Dave arrived as I took
off. I pedaled slowly while my riding partners got through the Feed Zone.
After watching my group ride away 110 miles ago, I am now back with my
group for last 45 miles to the finish. “This is amazing.” Then I shift from my big
front ring to the small and throw the chain – “This is unreal!” I hop off the bike and
put the chain back on just as Dave, Mike and Rick catch me. They are calling me an
“Animal” and congratulating me on my perseverance. I am overjoyed but too tired
to know how to respond.
Head winds up the Snake River valley!!? According to the race organizers,
we are supposed to have 20 mph tailwinds! We are losing time. I am getting tired
as we do short rotations at the front. There are a few guys sucking our wheel. I tell
Mike and Dave we should make these guys do some work, and I drop back to make
the other guys take a turn at the front in the wind. I realize we are not going to make
it to the finish in 10 hours at the current pace. I hear Dave asking Mike about the 10
hour mark. I do not hear Mike’s response. Mike is in his usual positive mood,
chatting with everyone in the group and pointing out the scenery. Mike is calling
different guys by the nicknames he has given them, “Mangy Matt”, “Wheel Suck” .
. . “Hey, there is Eric.” He jumps on and rides with us.
Within 5 Km to go, Mike starts congratulating everyone on the ride. I am
thinking, “Please, no more mechanical issues.”
Now, I see the finish line. I hear Dave say he is going to let me go across
first. I wave Mike and Dave up along side me, and we call Rick up. Our support
group is there and cheering us by name. The four of us cross together at 10’08”.
I feel great. We talk and laugh in the beautiful afternoon sun with the snow
capped Grande Teton standing next to us. It is a beautiful moment.
If you'd like the article with Rob's photos, let me know.
Rob Verhaaren
Masters 35+, No. 352
Lotoja 2008 was the culmination of my “rookie” year of road biking. I
bought a 2008 Trek Madone 5.2 for my 38th birthday on September 13, 2007. Lotoja
was on September 6, 2008. Lotoja is a 206 mile one-day bike race from Logan, UT
to Jackson Hole, WY encompassing 9,000 vertical feet of climbing over three
mountain passes and some spectacular mountain scenery.
Going into the race, I had ridden 7,500 miles during the year, including 3,900
in the four and one-half months leading up to the race. My training partners were
Dave Collins, a dedicated workhorse, friend and reliable riding partner, and Mike
Norberg, a very experienced and successful rider with an endlessly positive attitude,
who naturally took on the role of team mentor and coach. We also rode the race
with two others from Mesa, Arizona: Rick Frost, a veteran of the race who had won
his Cat 5 group in 2007, and Jim Auwen, an extreme endurance rider known for
rides that seem crazy to mere mortals.
The week of the race, I had my bike checked by my usual mechanic and
specifically asked that the spokes be checked. The bike seemed to be in good riding
condition, shifting smoothly and responsively in the weeks leading up the Lotoja.
[Within the three weeks before the race, I had ridden the Tour of Utah 300 Warriors
event (98 miles and 14,500 vertical feet of climbing from Park City, UT to Snowbird
ski resort) and the Desperado Dual (200 miles and 8,000 vertical feet around the area
of Bryce Canyon/Panguitch, UT ) – without mechanical issues and with the bike
feeling dialed-in.] Nevertheless, I had a sense that my bike was strained. I just
hoped I could get another 206 miles out of it without incident.
The mechanical problems started the night before the race. After taking my
bike off the travel rack, I did a typical pre-race once-over and discovered that my rear
derailleur was not pulling the chain up to the easiest gear in the back. I hustled to the
bike shop for what appeared to be a quick fix. Now I was apprehensive but hopeful I
would get 206 miles out of it. After all, it had been riding well the last few weeks.
Rob, Dave, Mike and Jim at the Start
Our Masters 35+ group was the third group off line at 6:31 am Saturday
morning. The weather looked like it would be perfect.
I was just settling in at mile 30 when a spoke in my back wheel suddenly
broke. I was dismayed that after four months of training my target time was out the
window and I would be riding without my riding partners. It looked like it would be
a long day. Fortunately, I was able to borrow another rider’s cell phone, call ahead
to our support crew at the first Feed Zone and ask that they have a new back wheel
ready for me. To my good fortune, my back wheel held together until I reached the
Feed Zone. I quickly switched the wheel, grabbed my provisions and was back on
the road without losing any time. Wow! Crisis averted! Awesome!
New Wheel
At mile 40, I was still feeling lucky about the wheel when my luck ran out.
As we were starting the first long climb up to Strawberry summit, I heard something
snap, and I suddenly could not shift my back gears. The cable to the back derailleur
had broken, and, without the cable to hold it in place, gravity pulled my rear
derailleur down to the hardest gear.
At first I was not sure what exactly had happened and thought I might be
forced out of the race. For a while I kept up with my group by standing on the
pedals for long periods of time. As the climb got steeper, I was quickly running out
of energy. I realized I was not going to be able to hold my group for the remaining
10 miles of the climb. I told Mike, Dave, Rick and Jim I would see them in Jackson
and dropped off the back.
A guy riding with us, Eric Martin from Draper, UT, asked if I wanted to try
to fix it. We stopped, he tried, but he quickly realized it was not fixable. I was
astounded that Eric would sacrifice his race to stop and help me, a total stranger.
Eric rode away, and I plodded along the best I could.
As I labored up what was supposed to be the easiest climb of the race and
with 160 miles to go, I briefly, but not seriously, thought about abandoning the race.
I started thinking about the next two more difficult climbs and wondered if I would
even be able to turn the crank. But I thought, “Hey, this is just a different adventure.
It will be a story to tell. I won’t get my target time, but I will still enjoy a memorable
experience and feel great at the finish.”
Approaching the top of the climb, I caught Jim. Generously, he offered to
switch bikes with me. I had to chuckle; Jim was something else; he was actually
serious about giving me his bike. At the top of the summit, there was a mechanic. I
stopped, he looked at it, but he could not help me. I kept riding.
On the decent from Strawberry Summit, I tried my front derailleur and shifted
to my large front ring. “Good, at least my front derailleur works. I can ride the
descents and flats on my big front ring and climb with the small front ring. No way
to get out of the hardest ring in the back. OK.” At the bottom of the descent, I was
riding alone in a head wind. I slowed until two guys caught me, a Cat 4 and a Cat 5.
I jumped on. “I can’t believe a Cat 5 has already caught me.” They were strong.
Spent from the climb, I just drafted behind them while they took turns pulling. Soon
a larger group caught us, and there was Jim. I rode in that group with Jim until the
Feed Zone 3 where Bridget was waiting for me. She had learned of my troubles
when my riding partners had gone through, and she felt bad for me. I felt bad she
would spend the day alone since the rest of our support group had gone ahead to stay
with the Mike, Dave, and Rick. I told her everything was good and that I would see
her at the next support stop, Feed Zone 5.
I was in good spirits as we approached the second climb, Geneva Summit.
Jim fell back. I stood on the pedals as long as I could, then kept plodding in the
saddle to the top. Over Geneva. “Hey, I did it.” One more climb to go.
I was nervous approaching the climb to Salt River Summit, the toughest of
the climbs. I kept a positive attitude by telling myself that it was steep but that it
would not take long to get to the top. As the climb started, I alternated standing on
the pedals and sitting in the saddle. I was barely able to turn the crank even while
standing, and I was being passed by lots of riders. A few more Cat 5’s were passing
now. “Crap.” One asked, “Why are you in that gear?” I responded, “It is the only
one I have. My derailleur is broken.” – This was a conversation I would have with
numerous riders along the way. People said they could not believe what I was
doing.
To keep my mind occupied up the climb, I was counting how many pedal
strokes I was taking. At the sign marking 1 Km to the summit, I started counting
strokes – 650 to the Summit. Lots of people cheering at the top. I looked around for
anyone from our support group. No one there. Then someone said, “Hey, Rob.” It
was Eric, the guy who stopped to help me back on Strawberry. It was good to have a
friendly, familiar person with me.
We started picking up speed on the decent. I felt ecstatic to be over the climbs
and still in the race. I was taking turns pulling. Our group kept getting bigger as
strong riders came from behind and as we caught and swept up groups in front of us.
The pace was fast, faster than I wanted. My legs were spent from the climbs. If I
rode in the small front ring, I spun too fast and could not keep up. If I rode in the big
front ring, I was pushing too big a gear and draining my energy. I felt weary and
started stuffing my face with the food I had with me. I started to feel better. I was
running low on fluid and fuel as we approached Feed Zone 5. I was looking forward
to seeing Bridget and getting the menu of food and fluid items I had planned for that
stop.
Feed Zone 5 was the usual chaos with riders searching for their support
crews and support crews running out in the road to get to their riders. I did not see
Bridget and stopped and called out her name a few times. My fast riders were
leaving. No refuel. Bridget would worry about me. [I learned later that she had
gone to ask the Ham Radio Operators to locate me.] If I waited for her, how long
would I wait? I chased after my fast riders. “No fuel. I still have a little left. Only
30ish miles to the next Feed Zone. I can ration and make it. I can get neutral
support at Feed Zone 6. An adventure. I am going to enjoy it.” The group
continued at a solid pace as I nursed my remaining provisions.
On the way to Feed Zone 6, a suburban came by with a woman sticking her
head out the window. She was yelling my name. It was Ruth Collins, Dave’s wife.
I waved. “I’ve been found! I am sure they will call Bridget and tell her where I am.
I hope they will wait for me at the Feed Zone. I am sure they will.” My spirits were
lifted, and I continued on. Then I saw a group of riders stopped on the side of the
road ahead. “What is that about.” I spotted an Arizona Brumby jersey. “It’s Rick!
Hey, there is Dave! And Mike, taking a pee.” I could not believe I caught them. I
felt a huge sense of relief and exhilaration. I yelled at them as I went by. They yelled
back and cheered.
I reached the Feed Zone just before Mike, Dave, and Rick. Someone from
the crowd called my name. It was Ruth and the rest of the crew. I start whooping it
up, yelling “Yeaaaah. WhoooHooo.” I am usually not that animated. I wondered
what they and the rest of the crowd were thinking. They stuffed my pockets with
food and water. Bridget was not there yet but on her way. Dave arrived as I took
off. I pedaled slowly while my riding partners got through the Feed Zone.
After watching my group ride away 110 miles ago, I am now back with my
group for last 45 miles to the finish. “This is amazing.” Then I shift from my big
front ring to the small and throw the chain – “This is unreal!” I hop off the bike and
put the chain back on just as Dave, Mike and Rick catch me. They are calling me an
“Animal” and congratulating me on my perseverance. I am overjoyed but too tired
to know how to respond.
Head winds up the Snake River valley!!? According to the race organizers,
we are supposed to have 20 mph tailwinds! We are losing time. I am getting tired
as we do short rotations at the front. There are a few guys sucking our wheel. I tell
Mike and Dave we should make these guys do some work, and I drop back to make
the other guys take a turn at the front in the wind. I realize we are not going to make
it to the finish in 10 hours at the current pace. I hear Dave asking Mike about the 10
hour mark. I do not hear Mike’s response. Mike is in his usual positive mood,
chatting with everyone in the group and pointing out the scenery. Mike is calling
different guys by the nicknames he has given them, “Mangy Matt”, “Wheel Suck” .
. . “Hey, there is Eric.” He jumps on and rides with us.
Within 5 Km to go, Mike starts congratulating everyone on the ride. I am
thinking, “Please, no more mechanical issues.”
Now, I see the finish line. I hear Dave say he is going to let me go across
first. I wave Mike and Dave up along side me, and we call Rick up. Our support
group is there and cheering us by name. The four of us cross together at 10’08”.
I feel great. We talk and laugh in the beautiful afternoon sun with the snow
capped Grande Teton standing next to us. It is a beautiful moment.
If you'd like the article with Rob's photos, let me know.
LOTOJA 2008
LOTOJA 2008--206 miles--3 states--1 day
(Logan, Utah to Jackson Hole, Wyoming)
by Jim Auwen
Alright, where to start my 2008 LOTOJA experience? The flight over? Thursday spent looking for my Dutch ancestors at the Geneological Library in SLC? I think I'll begin with my Thursday night spent in Logan.
The Frost family had arrived on Thursday and checked into the Crystal Inn. I had found a room at Best Western and headed over to Pier 49 Pizza for food and a chat with Rick Frost who met me there. Rick and I had each done the previous four Lotoja's and spent the evening chatting about the race and life. Got a good night's sleep that night which I feel is more important than getting a good night's sleep on the night before the race, so that was good for me.
Friday morning was spent riding with my tour guide Rick, around the beautiful town of Logan (Rick and Jill had gone to college there) . We finished a 15 miler and headed over to the race check-in . Long lines this year, and we were there right at the start of check-in. There may have been a lack of volunteers, I don't know, but they reduced the check-in to one line instead of two like last year. Lunch at the Sizzler with Rick and his family, wife Jill, daughters Syndey and Cassidy aka: Casper. I was invited to a pasta place for a dinner get together that night with everyone, but wound up preparing for the race and eating some stew from a can alone in my room.
Race morning arrived sooner and than I wanted, but as I got outside, I felt it was warmer than in other years. Jill agreed to take my cold weather gear in Preston so I was able to wear a vest and arm-warmers and not worry about hauling them around the whole day. Once again I was without a sag this year, this meant no hand-offs, and that I would be stopping at all the aid stations for refills and whatever fuel I might find there. This method works okay for me, you lose time to be sure, but I just take the situation I'm given and try to adapt and enjoy. Ruth Collins and son Jake sagged for Dave, Bridget Verhaaren took care of Rob, Jill and daughters supported Rick, and Darcy Norberg with sister Emily her husband Tyler sagged for Mike.
Rick Frost, Dave Collins, Rob Verhaaren and Mike Norberg were all entered in the same division; Master's 35+. My division (Masters 45+) started six minutes back of theirs. I just figured after the start, I wouldn't see them again, they were all pretty strong riders and though I had put a lot of miles in prior to Lotoja, they weren't training specific miles, I knew I would finish, but a sub-10 hour ride wasn't going happen for me this year.
The Masters 45+ pack as a whole, is typically a fast group of riders and we had caught the Masters 35+ guys before Preston, it was fun to see my good friends again when I hadn't expected it. Got into Preston (the Idaho town made famous by the Napoleon Dynamite movie a few years ago) and then lost contact with the others. I guess I got off faster and pushed on to catch another group. Later on, I would stop to visit the "cat-box" and afterwards found myself back with my friends again. We rode along for awhile before the the steeper climb up Strawberry got to me. I immediately fell back due to the extreme gravitational pull on me in particular. I accept this, I don't ride to train, and I eat with gusto whenever I can. Although Ruth Collins thought I ate like a bird, I really just didn't want the "baggage" on race day.
About a third of the way up the day's first big climb I see Rob and another rider working on Rob's rear derailleur. I stopped to see if I could help but when Rob told me his cable had broke I had given him up for done. I thought he might be able to gut out a 12-13 hour day and that's IF he had the moxie to continue. Boy was I wrong.
Rick, Dave, and Mike rode well and from what I hear had a great time together. I think Dave was happy to finish with a good time in his first Lotoja, Rick didn't feel well at mile 160 but was able to gut it out and finish respectably, and Mike surprisingly met many new and interesting people and was able to practice some social skills he's picked up (I swear Mike's the energizer bunny). Rob though, won the lottery of cycling adversity.
What to do when adversity smacks you on the face? You smack it right back. Rob's situation would have sent 95 percent of those riding, waving for their sag vehicles to pick them up. I loved hearing him say "oh well, this will make for a good story" as he left me. I did read his story (great story and well-written by the way), and I did offer my bike to him, but he had different pedals so that wouldn't work. I just thought I had done this race 4 times already and wanted him to have a chance at a good experience, but then I also thought this guy is already on his way to an epic ride, and wants the challenge, who am I to try and deny him of that?, I appropriately said nothing more.
Rob said it would be nice if I could work with him at the summit because he would probably be exhausted, but he ended up beating me up there! My group caught his before Montpelier and we rode in together. As we left Montpelier, he repeated that it would be nice to ride together after the next two brutal climbs up ahead, but I knew that wouldn't happen. I was slow, and Rob was not only fast, but also desperate to get over those climbs. I wouldn't see Rob again until dinner that night. I was told later, and to my disbelief, that Rob had fought back up to the Brumby group, amazing.
As I rolled into Afton, I thought Rob might be nearby, his good wife Bridget was there and said she hadn't seen him. Did I pass him? Should I wait and try to help? I was kind of in limbo but figured he'd be okay.
While going through the feed zone in Afton, Bridget kindly asked me if I needed anything, I said "no, but I'm dying for a cheeseburger". She said "there's a Burger King just up the street". Let's see, is 10 minutes going to matter to me at the finish? Nope, didn't care, I just wanted a cheeseburger. So I pulled in, went inside, and to the surprise of the people in line (most of whom were affiliated with the race) waited to give my order. People kept coming up to me and asking "aren't you in the race, what are you doing in here"? I said "I wanted a cheeseburger". A few let me in front of them in line and I finally got my two greasy Whoppers with cheese. I sat and ate the first one then stuffed the other in my jersey pocket for later. I ended up losing 23 minutes, but felt like a new man.
As I got back into the race I hooked up with a girl from Jackson Hole and I pulled her for what seemed like 10 miles, she told me she just didn't have much left. I couldn't bring myself to leave her until we came up on a pack of riders she could hang onto. I missed the opportunity during that time with her to jump on some speedy packs that went by, but where's the good in that? I never saw her again.
I think a nice change this year was the detour west before Jackson, we avoided a lot of traffic and the scenery was better. The only other incident that comes to mind was the pothole just before the finish that took out one rider and the cones that another rider knocked over and about took me out. I felt fortunate to finish accident and flat tire free for the entire course.
I finished not knowing how I was going to get back to my rental car in Logan with all my belongings. The thought crossed my mind to ride back somehow but it was getting dark and colder. "Maybe I could find a church to sleep in" I thought, but I wouldn't be able to ride back in time for my flight. I went to a convenience store with the purpose of eating something and then getting a piece of paper to write "Need a ride to Logan" on. I was then going to stand out on the finish exit hold up the sign, and hope for the best. As I made the attempt, I got a text from Jill Frost asking me if I needed a ride. Rick had told me earlier during the ride that "we would figure something out at the finish" and he was good to his word.
Once again as last year, the Frost's saved me. I told them I felt like Bob Wiley in the "What about Bob" movie. They picked me up, took me to their little cabin in Jackson, had me shower (I was able to do that on my own), and wear a full set of Rick's clothes (even his garments). I had to use a bungy cord for a belt (which the Collin's and airport security in SLC thought was pretty funny) to keep my shorts up, but most everything else fit. Jill bought me a tooth brush and I was set. They even had me sleep on their pull-out sofa bed, in the same room. I wanted to sleep in their truck that night to give us both some privacy but Jill wouldn't even hear of it.
We ate dinner with the whole group at the Mangy Moose there at Teton Village that evening. The service was slow but that's was to be expected with the huge Lotoja crowd in there. Good food and conversation with great people. BTW, Dave, you're awesome!
Restless night, got up at 6am to the sound of the Frost's dog wanting out of the bathroom. Rick and I went to hunt up some breakfast. Ate later in the cabin with the family, met with the others to load up the bikes, hit the awards (Jill's sister took 2nd in her group), then headed back to Logan with the Frost's.
So, for me, the story of this years' Lotoja boiled down to the following two experiences. Rob's epic struggle to overcome adversity but also his achievement to not only finish, but to fight back up to his group was huge. And secondly, the kindness and concern for me shown by the Frost family was about as Christ-like as you can get, I thank them yet again.
Oh, and I forgot to mention the time Bridget was carrying a bunch of luggage in through the side door of the hotel and the door slipped and whacked her on the head...she didn't like that.
Life is good
(Logan, Utah to Jackson Hole, Wyoming)
by Jim Auwen
Alright, where to start my 2008 LOTOJA experience? The flight over? Thursday spent looking for my Dutch ancestors at the Geneological Library in SLC? I think I'll begin with my Thursday night spent in Logan.
The Frost family had arrived on Thursday and checked into the Crystal Inn. I had found a room at Best Western and headed over to Pier 49 Pizza for food and a chat with Rick Frost who met me there. Rick and I had each done the previous four Lotoja's and spent the evening chatting about the race and life. Got a good night's sleep that night which I feel is more important than getting a good night's sleep on the night before the race, so that was good for me.
Friday morning was spent riding with my tour guide Rick, around the beautiful town of Logan (Rick and Jill had gone to college there) . We finished a 15 miler and headed over to the race check-in . Long lines this year, and we were there right at the start of check-in. There may have been a lack of volunteers, I don't know, but they reduced the check-in to one line instead of two like last year. Lunch at the Sizzler with Rick and his family, wife Jill, daughters Syndey and Cassidy aka: Casper. I was invited to a pasta place for a dinner get together that night with everyone, but wound up preparing for the race and eating some stew from a can alone in my room.
Race morning arrived sooner and than I wanted, but as I got outside, I felt it was warmer than in other years. Jill agreed to take my cold weather gear in Preston so I was able to wear a vest and arm-warmers and not worry about hauling them around the whole day. Once again I was without a sag this year, this meant no hand-offs, and that I would be stopping at all the aid stations for refills and whatever fuel I might find there. This method works okay for me, you lose time to be sure, but I just take the situation I'm given and try to adapt and enjoy. Ruth Collins and son Jake sagged for Dave, Bridget Verhaaren took care of Rob, Jill and daughters supported Rick, and Darcy Norberg with sister Emily her husband Tyler sagged for Mike.
Rick Frost, Dave Collins, Rob Verhaaren and Mike Norberg were all entered in the same division; Master's 35+. My division (Masters 45+) started six minutes back of theirs. I just figured after the start, I wouldn't see them again, they were all pretty strong riders and though I had put a lot of miles in prior to Lotoja, they weren't training specific miles, I knew I would finish, but a sub-10 hour ride wasn't going happen for me this year.
The Masters 45+ pack as a whole, is typically a fast group of riders and we had caught the Masters 35+ guys before Preston, it was fun to see my good friends again when I hadn't expected it. Got into Preston (the Idaho town made famous by the Napoleon Dynamite movie a few years ago) and then lost contact with the others. I guess I got off faster and pushed on to catch another group. Later on, I would stop to visit the "cat-box" and afterwards found myself back with my friends again. We rode along for awhile before the the steeper climb up Strawberry got to me. I immediately fell back due to the extreme gravitational pull on me in particular. I accept this, I don't ride to train, and I eat with gusto whenever I can. Although Ruth Collins thought I ate like a bird, I really just didn't want the "baggage" on race day.
About a third of the way up the day's first big climb I see Rob and another rider working on Rob's rear derailleur. I stopped to see if I could help but when Rob told me his cable had broke I had given him up for done. I thought he might be able to gut out a 12-13 hour day and that's IF he had the moxie to continue. Boy was I wrong.
Rick, Dave, and Mike rode well and from what I hear had a great time together. I think Dave was happy to finish with a good time in his first Lotoja, Rick didn't feel well at mile 160 but was able to gut it out and finish respectably, and Mike surprisingly met many new and interesting people and was able to practice some social skills he's picked up (I swear Mike's the energizer bunny). Rob though, won the lottery of cycling adversity.
What to do when adversity smacks you on the face? You smack it right back. Rob's situation would have sent 95 percent of those riding, waving for their sag vehicles to pick them up. I loved hearing him say "oh well, this will make for a good story" as he left me. I did read his story (great story and well-written by the way), and I did offer my bike to him, but he had different pedals so that wouldn't work. I just thought I had done this race 4 times already and wanted him to have a chance at a good experience, but then I also thought this guy is already on his way to an epic ride, and wants the challenge, who am I to try and deny him of that?, I appropriately said nothing more.
Rob said it would be nice if I could work with him at the summit because he would probably be exhausted, but he ended up beating me up there! My group caught his before Montpelier and we rode in together. As we left Montpelier, he repeated that it would be nice to ride together after the next two brutal climbs up ahead, but I knew that wouldn't happen. I was slow, and Rob was not only fast, but also desperate to get over those climbs. I wouldn't see Rob again until dinner that night. I was told later, and to my disbelief, that Rob had fought back up to the Brumby group, amazing.
As I rolled into Afton, I thought Rob might be nearby, his good wife Bridget was there and said she hadn't seen him. Did I pass him? Should I wait and try to help? I was kind of in limbo but figured he'd be okay.
While going through the feed zone in Afton, Bridget kindly asked me if I needed anything, I said "no, but I'm dying for a cheeseburger". She said "there's a Burger King just up the street". Let's see, is 10 minutes going to matter to me at the finish? Nope, didn't care, I just wanted a cheeseburger. So I pulled in, went inside, and to the surprise of the people in line (most of whom were affiliated with the race) waited to give my order. People kept coming up to me and asking "aren't you in the race, what are you doing in here"? I said "I wanted a cheeseburger". A few let me in front of them in line and I finally got my two greasy Whoppers with cheese. I sat and ate the first one then stuffed the other in my jersey pocket for later. I ended up losing 23 minutes, but felt like a new man.
As I got back into the race I hooked up with a girl from Jackson Hole and I pulled her for what seemed like 10 miles, she told me she just didn't have much left. I couldn't bring myself to leave her until we came up on a pack of riders she could hang onto. I missed the opportunity during that time with her to jump on some speedy packs that went by, but where's the good in that? I never saw her again.
I think a nice change this year was the detour west before Jackson, we avoided a lot of traffic and the scenery was better. The only other incident that comes to mind was the pothole just before the finish that took out one rider and the cones that another rider knocked over and about took me out. I felt fortunate to finish accident and flat tire free for the entire course.
I finished not knowing how I was going to get back to my rental car in Logan with all my belongings. The thought crossed my mind to ride back somehow but it was getting dark and colder. "Maybe I could find a church to sleep in" I thought, but I wouldn't be able to ride back in time for my flight. I went to a convenience store with the purpose of eating something and then getting a piece of paper to write "Need a ride to Logan" on. I was then going to stand out on the finish exit hold up the sign, and hope for the best. As I made the attempt, I got a text from Jill Frost asking me if I needed a ride. Rick had told me earlier during the ride that "we would figure something out at the finish" and he was good to his word.
Once again as last year, the Frost's saved me. I told them I felt like Bob Wiley in the "What about Bob" movie. They picked me up, took me to their little cabin in Jackson, had me shower (I was able to do that on my own), and wear a full set of Rick's clothes (even his garments). I had to use a bungy cord for a belt (which the Collin's and airport security in SLC thought was pretty funny) to keep my shorts up, but most everything else fit. Jill bought me a tooth brush and I was set. They even had me sleep on their pull-out sofa bed, in the same room. I wanted to sleep in their truck that night to give us both some privacy but Jill wouldn't even hear of it.
We ate dinner with the whole group at the Mangy Moose there at Teton Village that evening. The service was slow but that's was to be expected with the huge Lotoja crowd in there. Good food and conversation with great people. BTW, Dave, you're awesome!
Restless night, got up at 6am to the sound of the Frost's dog wanting out of the bathroom. Rick and I went to hunt up some breakfast. Ate later in the cabin with the family, met with the others to load up the bikes, hit the awards (Jill's sister took 2nd in her group), then headed back to Logan with the Frost's.
So, for me, the story of this years' Lotoja boiled down to the following two experiences. Rob's epic struggle to overcome adversity but also his achievement to not only finish, but to fight back up to his group was huge. And secondly, the kindness and concern for me shown by the Frost family was about as Christ-like as you can get, I thank them yet again.
Oh, and I forgot to mention the time Bridget was carrying a bunch of luggage in through the side door of the hotel and the door slipped and whacked her on the head...she didn't like that.
Life is good
300 Warriors 2008--Park City, Utah
2008--300 Warriors charity ride account.
My approach and viewpoint of the 300 Warrior's charity ride was I'm sure different to most other riders, I actually ended up riding for fun.
It didn't begin that way, I was pushing it up the hills towards Kamas and past Francis along with all the other Brumbii but just before the descent towards Midway I noticed something, I wasn't having much fun and I was missing the scenery. I distinctly remember looking over and seeing a beautiful home next to a river and trees and thinking "I'm done with the grind" I couldn't remember any of the scenery we had passed and I just wanted to enjoy it more than I was. I went through the same thing at LOTOJA two years ago and I loved relaxing then as well. So, off the back, and over to the side of the road I went to change out of some clothes.
After changing, I started off and along comes Bryce Cook, Todd Taylor, and Todd's friend/neighbor. It seems they had taken a wrong turn and were delayed 10 to 15 minutes or so. Bryce looked awful, kinda like the guy in "Escape from Alcatraz" who waited too long to commit to go and couldn't get up through the vent hole in the ceiling by himself to escape.
I jumped into their effort to get back in it and did what I could to help. I think we worked pretty well down past the 40 and through Midway to the reservoir. I like to think we prevented any loss of ground to the leaders. Bryce told me he caught Joe Susco and Travis Walden (among others) at around mile 75-80, that must've been a HUGE effort. Doesn't matter how he finished, that run-down was a testament to Bryce's biking strength and gritty determination.
Didn't really know who Todd Taylor was, still don't know him well, but we rode along for much of the Alpine Loop and down to the base of Suncrest (that's funny, "the base" like it's in Nepal). I can't even recall too much about Todd, but I remember I liked riding with him and that he seemed like decent fellow, I was glad to meet him. They pulled off at the start of Suncrest and then passed me later further up never to be seen by me again. It was here that Lori Tucker and Dave Funk's sister Julie (and kids) pulled over and thoughtfully gave me a Gatorade from her VW Thing.
Alright, back to me. After Todd pulled off I just rode alone, not getting much out of the experience. I thought I'd rather be riding with friends and maybe I could help someone along. I remembered that I had passed the Thomas's going down American Canyon and thought it would nice to ride with my good friends again. So, I waited a while higher up on Suncrest for them and jumped in with them after a tearful reunion. We ended up staying together to the finish.
I enjoyed going down the backside of Suncrest, I love big gravity-assisted speed. Got down to the bottom and waited again for the Thomas's. Kim is, how shall I put this?--a cautious rider when descending. She does well though on a descent like Suncrest that has less curves, so I didn't have to wait too long.
We continued to work together, and I believe we were having a great time until we hit the climb up to Snowbird. From what I hear, most riders had some type of difficulty with this last climb and we were no different. Barry started dealing with some cramping issues, and Kim was having to dig way down deep to her core. We worked well together and through all the adversity came through to the finish amid the cheers of strangers and friends. No need for specifics here, It was just great to see Kim finish after all I saw her go through, her effort that day was no less impressive than Bryce's.
A little snack at the finish, watched the Pro's finish their stage, and back to Park City we went. Kyle and I missed the Brumby dinner that night, but absolutely stuffed ourselves at Bajio's.
I debated whether or not to fly home, or drive home with the Thomas's, Bub Matthews, and Dave Funk. I chose the latter and was glad I did, not only did I save $200, but I got to travel with some good friends and great conversation.
Jim Auwen
My approach and viewpoint of the 300 Warrior's charity ride was I'm sure different to most other riders, I actually ended up riding for fun.
It didn't begin that way, I was pushing it up the hills towards Kamas and past Francis along with all the other Brumbii but just before the descent towards Midway I noticed something, I wasn't having much fun and I was missing the scenery. I distinctly remember looking over and seeing a beautiful home next to a river and trees and thinking "I'm done with the grind" I couldn't remember any of the scenery we had passed and I just wanted to enjoy it more than I was. I went through the same thing at LOTOJA two years ago and I loved relaxing then as well. So, off the back, and over to the side of the road I went to change out of some clothes.
After changing, I started off and along comes Bryce Cook, Todd Taylor, and Todd's friend/neighbor. It seems they had taken a wrong turn and were delayed 10 to 15 minutes or so. Bryce looked awful, kinda like the guy in "Escape from Alcatraz" who waited too long to commit to go and couldn't get up through the vent hole in the ceiling by himself to escape.
I jumped into their effort to get back in it and did what I could to help. I think we worked pretty well down past the 40 and through Midway to the reservoir. I like to think we prevented any loss of ground to the leaders. Bryce told me he caught Joe Susco and Travis Walden (among others) at around mile 75-80, that must've been a HUGE effort. Doesn't matter how he finished, that run-down was a testament to Bryce's biking strength and gritty determination.
Didn't really know who Todd Taylor was, still don't know him well, but we rode along for much of the Alpine Loop and down to the base of Suncrest (that's funny, "the base" like it's in Nepal). I can't even recall too much about Todd, but I remember I liked riding with him and that he seemed like decent fellow, I was glad to meet him. They pulled off at the start of Suncrest and then passed me later further up never to be seen by me again. It was here that Lori Tucker and Dave Funk's sister Julie (and kids) pulled over and thoughtfully gave me a Gatorade from her VW Thing.
Alright, back to me. After Todd pulled off I just rode alone, not getting much out of the experience. I thought I'd rather be riding with friends and maybe I could help someone along. I remembered that I had passed the Thomas's going down American Canyon and thought it would nice to ride with my good friends again. So, I waited a while higher up on Suncrest for them and jumped in with them after a tearful reunion. We ended up staying together to the finish.
I enjoyed going down the backside of Suncrest, I love big gravity-assisted speed. Got down to the bottom and waited again for the Thomas's. Kim is, how shall I put this?--a cautious rider when descending. She does well though on a descent like Suncrest that has less curves, so I didn't have to wait too long.
We continued to work together, and I believe we were having a great time until we hit the climb up to Snowbird. From what I hear, most riders had some type of difficulty with this last climb and we were no different. Barry started dealing with some cramping issues, and Kim was having to dig way down deep to her core. We worked well together and through all the adversity came through to the finish amid the cheers of strangers and friends. No need for specifics here, It was just great to see Kim finish after all I saw her go through, her effort that day was no less impressive than Bryce's.
A little snack at the finish, watched the Pro's finish their stage, and back to Park City we went. Kyle and I missed the Brumby dinner that night, but absolutely stuffed ourselves at Bajio's.
I debated whether or not to fly home, or drive home with the Thomas's, Bub Matthews, and Dave Funk. I chose the latter and was glad I did, not only did I save $200, but I got to travel with some good friends and great conversation.
Jim Auwen
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Newport Beach
We spent the week in Newport last week and absolutely loved it. We stayed at the Marriott Resort in Newport, a bit fancy for me, but I survived. Our days were spent at the beach, shopping, eating and just plain relaxing.
I enjoyed the cycling excursions with Kyle, Jim, and the Thomas's. We would work our way around to Laguna Canyon and head down to the PCH, then north back to the resort.
The weather was typically 75 to 80 near the beach. Our A/C went out on the way over and we planned to drive home at night to avoid the heat, that didn't work out because the average temp heading home was 105! No lie, a lot of the trip was at 108. We survived, but that trip home was awful.
The families that were there included: Hatfields, Jorgensens, Thomas's, Wilsons, Connollys, Burks, Matthews, and others not well-known to me.
Good stuff
Friday, August 1, 2008
Solo Ride to Utah
Been a while, thought I'd post a story of a recent bike trip up to Utah. The trip was just over 650 miles and took 5 days.
Bike Trip to Utah-- August 2008
I don't know what led me to decide to ride to Utah prior to riding in the 300 Warriors charity ride, I only know it was impulsive and certain. A personal challenge to be sure, but I felt it was within me and that I could complete the ride to Utah with a little left over to give to the 300 Warrior's Charity ride prior to the 4th Stage of the Tour of Utah.
My thought was to ride up to American Fork, Utah, to my old friend Gary Parke's house. I would carry all essentials and buy food and water along the way to replace an average daily consumption of what turned out to be 7000-8000 calories. Kyle Jorgensen would then pick me up from there and take us to Park City for the ride.
I had trouble in my bike set-up and thought I was good to go. I had attached a seat post mounted rack that my panniers could attach to. That was not so good as I would discover the morning I left. As I mounted the bike and began pedaling to leave, the bike just wobbled through the frame. Too much weight and placed too high on the bike I surmised. There went two days of planning and preparation. I quickly removed the pannier set-up and placed everything into the largest Camelbak I've ever seen, the H.O.S.S. I had to leave a few things, including the bladder, but got most of what I thought I'd need into it.
It's strange taking off alone, I thought I would need to rely on my ipod but I never used it that first day, I guess I had a lot to think about. So I rode and rode, and it got hotter and windier. In fact it was pretty warm from the time I left. I didn't get off until 7:30ish due to the luggage exchange situation. Even my prayer wasn't until about an hour into the ride. It's kinda fun to pray out loud by yourself, if someone does see you, they just think you're singing, or crazy.
I was hungry by Cordes Junction and stopped into Subway. I was sitting there eating and being entertained by overhearing three men talk about how they were going to convert the world to Christ. I admired their enthusiasm, but they were so serious, almost fanatical in their comments. It got uncomfortable when they realized they were being overheard so I moved on, secure in my religion.
Pulled into Sonic after Camp Verde, and just got fluid and a candy bar. Ahh... eating whatever I want, whenever I want, and it was all so legal.
Continuing on, I found a wallet with $50, Mexican national cards, and credit cards in it, off the side of the road. I immediately felt bad for the person who lost it. When I got to Jeff's in Flagstaff that night, we tracked down the employer of the person and agreed to mail him the wallet which Jeff kindly did the following morning. Good Deeds "done dirt cheap" I thought, "I will look to do a good deed everyday I'm out here" I told myself.
It stayed hot and windy until I crested onto the rim. The thought "the higher in elevation I get, the cooler it will be", didn't turn out to be true. At that point, the heavens opened up and decided to drench me, it rained for the next 20 miles. I was able to dry by the time I reached north Flagstaff and ate once more at Subway before pulling into Meri's brother's place for the night. His name is Jeff Martin and he is the LDS institute director at NAU. Had good conversation with him and his good wife Pam before heading off to sleep.
The next day's plans had changed a bit because Jeff had put me in contact with the LDS seminary teacher in Page and he enthusiastically agreed to take me in that night. I had planned on going through the Lee's Ferry/Jacob Lake way and camping off the side of the road, but sleeping in a bed in Page didn't seem so bad. I was even promised a nice dinner. I was a little nervous, I had never met Danny and Angela Ricks and I didn't know what to expect, but from the moment I met these two, I was glad I did.
The next day to Page was just as I had expected, hot and windy. The wind wasn't a direct headwind, but just about. I believe the temp was over 100, at least it felt as much. But, I plod along stopping at The Gap and Cameron for replenishment along the way. Later that day, I see a native on the reservation who was stumbling along. He looked to be drunk from his gait and my first impulse was to ride around him and not look back, probably a common reaction from most people, but I was in search of a worthy good deed victim and there didn't seem to be many possibilities out there. So, I pulled up next to him and asked him if he was okay and if he needed anything. He looked at me with desperate eyes and said "I'm dying of thirst, please help me". I hurriedly gave him a water bottle. He politely took off the top so as not to contaminate the spout, took a drink, and handed it back to me, not wanting to take too much. I was touched that he was so considerate in his state. I insisted he have more and he drank until he was full. I was worried about making it to the next stop on so little water myself but I felt I would be okay. He thanked me for saving him over and over, and I had to ride on before I was thanked to death. I felt really good about that experience.
By the time I got to the "Cut-out" as the locals call it, or as I call it "the climb up to Page" I was over-heated. I can tolerate a lot of heat abuse but I had been milking the little water I had left after the good deed episode and was now choking on my tongue. I made it up to the overlook where jewelry is sold and was looking for shade and possibly a water handout. While standing in the little shade I could find of an RV, the owner came out and handed me not one, but two ice-cold sodas, Root Beer and a Diet 7-Up. I thanked him profusely and down one in about 5 seconds. My plan was to then find a shade tree about another mile up the road and milk the other one while relaxing. Mission accomplished, found a little tree to sit under, just me, the ants and a Diet 7-up. Just 25 miles of downhill left until Page and the unknown sleepover.
Idaho hospitality awaited me at the Rick's home. Just a solid couple who opened their home to a stranger, a strange stranger no less. They made a barbecue chicken dinner and we had a great time. I was really glad to get to know them, very kind and happy people.
3 a.m. the next morning and I'm back on the road. With my light attached I headed towards Kanab and ultimately Panguitch. I left early so as to beat some of the heat and wind that had pestered me the day before. The bonus in that decision was the stars. I know I've been urbanized, but wow the stars were blazing that night, even though I felt rushed to make some distance, I had to stop for awhile to take it all in. I felt overwhelmed at my place in it all. Alone, in the middle of nowhere, standing there with my arms outstretched and feeling alive, that was one of my reasons to do this trip. I could've headed home right then and felt complete, but I do like to cycle ; )
Not much more to report on the road to Kanab, I opened the door for an older woman at the Subway so if nothing better came along that day, that would have to do for my good deed. Downed a Turkey breast and Ham foot long at you guessed it; Subway, filled the bottles, and took off for Panguitch.
You've heard the opening line for stories that go, "I was just riding along and" well this is one of those, only true. I was just riding along enjoying the scenery and doing my thing when a box blows right in front of my bike. This was no puny box as some have made the comment that i've embellished it's size increasingly since the accident, no, this was a large box, one that might've held a small water heater. The gusting winds I'd been lovingly dealing with literally picked it up and set it right in front of my wheel. I braced and hoped for the best. Turns out the killer box didn't fold or move as I plowed into it, it just took me down.
I remember the impact on my head and then nothing until I woke up and saw about ten people standing around me who had enjoyed the show from the comfort of their leather seats, and were now gawking at the aftermath (sorry, that's kinda harsh, I'm sure there was concern for my well-being). I sat up as an EMT was opening his fishing box for ice packs. The people were all talking and I must've been quite a show. I heard one woman tell another that my impact was "vicious" I don't know, I can't remember. The EMT ask me if I wanted an ambulance, I told him "no, let me check myself out first". On self-evaluation I was happy to be able to stand and not notice any fractures. I did have abrasions, swollen knees, right elbow and jaw. But after more checking, no fractures, I was good to go. Until...well, during the one mile drive with the EMT into Hatch, he started asking me some tough questions that I couldn't answer. Such as; "where did you come from" and "where are you going"? It was like waking up from surgery and having to describe it to someone, I had nothing. He wouldn't let me leave until I was able to recall some details so I called Meri and she filled me in on the trip. She also talked to the EMT and had him call my friends in Panguitch to come and pick me up.
Lynn Armstrong was kind enough to come and retrieve me and my bike to Panguitch. I was fed and was able to doctor myself into pretty reasonable shape.
The next morning my knee was able to bend enough to make cycling possible, so against Tracy and Lynn's wishes I was off to Manti. Got to Richfield and ate at Ideal Dairy, stuffed myself actually, and was back on the road. My handlebar had been broken during "the assassination attempt", and shifting was jumpy, so I finally had to stop and splint the bar with two sticks and some duct tape and fiddled with the shifting until i could use a few gears reliably. I felt like my bike, busted a little, but workable. I was starting to feel the injuries the most by Salina and thought of staying there, but it was still early and I felt I could bite off another 30 miles to make it to Manti.
Funny thing happened on the way to Manti. I was on one of the last climbs into town when a SUV pulled over in front of me. A woman gets out and approaches me, I just thought she might need some help. When she got to me she asked "are you okay"? I thought "boy, this is a bike-friendly town". She then asked "didn't you see that"? I said "no, I didn't see anything and I couldn't hear anything because I had my ipod going". She said "my Kayak broke off my roof rack and barely missed hitting you".
Okay, what are the odds of that? Plus, what are the odds a killer box gets blown up on the road in front of me at THAT exact moment? I don't know what to make of it, on the one hand I'm okay, on the other, I could've been seriously injured or killed. My brain hurts...
No harm, no foul, so in keeping with the spirit of good deeding, I helped her retrieve and load the Kayak inside her SUV. She thanked me, apologized, and invited me to the lake. Tempted, I declined graciously and went on to get a hotel room in Manti.
It was awesome to finally have some privacy and rest. I showered gingerly and walked up the street to Fred's Hamburger place. The meal was good but I goofed up by drinking the two big Diet Cokes, that tactical error kept me wide-eyed and awake late into the night.
The next day, I was feeling better, scabbing -up, and happy about the thought of finishing.
As I was approaching Mt Pleasant I saw a sign indicating that a Bike Race was taking place that day. I texted Barry Thomas and tried to find out if the Tour was in the area that day. He confirmed, and I kept an eye out for bogies. As I got into the town I saw a group of people gathered so I figured it involved the race. I wasn't looking for trouble, I was just talking to an older gentleman who was asking about my trip. When it was overheard that I was riding up to do the 300 Warrior's charity ride, a younger man with KJZZ on his shirt pointed his finger in my face and said "don't move, I'll be right back". He returned with a microphone and had his video guy film the interview. We talked for about five minutes, most of which consisted of me down-playing my effort to get up there, maybe that's why I don't believe it ever aired, not enough drama. It was cool to see Mesa local Marty Ryerson driving by in the Ride Clean team car after the Pro's went by. We gave each other a shout out in passing.
The Tour riders had gone on to Milburn and on the way back passed by me going the opposite way. It was fun to watch them go by and cheer them on.
Not much else to report about the last day, I just pressed on in solitude. Got into Provo and had another Subway sandwich before the final stretch into American Fork.
Thanks to all who helped me along the way. Also, If anybody out there ever wants to ride to Utah, let me know, I'm starting to get the hang of it...
Thursday, July 24, 2008
ARTICLE ON DEATH
My good friend Sterling Baer sent this to me and I thought it was a great insight about the subject of death by someone going through the process.
Friends and Family, it seems this note may be making the rounds amongst emailers recently, and I am glad that I received it because is worth reading, keeping and sharing it with others and that is why I am sending it to you. I checked it's validity out for myself, it is bonifide and was actually published in "Christianity Today" in July of 2007. It is an outstanding essay which was written by Tony Snow, the former Presidential Press Secretary who recently died. It was posted on their website on 7/20/07 with this preface. http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2007/july/25.30.htmlCommentator and broadcaster Tony Snow announced that he had colon cancer in 2005. Following surgery and chemo-therapy, Snow joined the Bush administration in April 2006 as press secretary. Unfortunately, on March 23 Snow, 51, a husband and father of three, announced that the cancer had recurred, with tumors found in his abdomen—leading to surgery in April, followed by more chemotherapy. Snow went back to work in the White House Briefing Room on May 30, but resigned August 31 (2007). Snow was asked "what spiritual lessons he had been learning through the ordeal and this was his uplifting and remarkable faith promoting reply. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
'Blessings arrive in unexpected packages -- in my case, cancer. Those of us with potentially fatal diseases -- and there are millions in America today -- find ourselves in the odd position of coping with our mortality while trying to fathom God's will. Although it would be the height of presumption to declare with confidence 'What It All Means,'Scripture provides powerful hints and consolations. The first is that we shouldn't spend too much time trying to answer the 'why' questions: Why me? Why must people suffer?Why can't someone else get sick? We can't answer such things, and the questions themselves often are designed more to express our anguish than to solicit an answer.I don't know why I have cancer, and I don't much care. It is what it is, a plain and indisputable fact. Yet even while staring into a mirror darkly, great and stunning truths began to take shape. Our maladies define a central feature of our existence: We are fallen. We are imperfect.Our bodies give out. But, despite this -- or because of it -- God offers the possibility of salvation and grace. We don't know how the narrative of our lives will end, but we get to choose how to use the interval between now and the moment we meet our Creator face-to-face.Second, we need to get past the anxiety. The mere thought of dying can send adrenaline flooding through your system. A dizzy, unfocused panic seizes you. Your heart thumps; your head swims. You think of nothingness and swoon. You fear partings; you worry about the impact on family and friends. You fidget and get nowhere. To regain footing, remember that we were born not into death, but into life - and that the journey continues after we have finished our days on this earth. We accept this on faith, but that faith is nourished by a conviction that stirs even within many non-believing hearts - an institution that the gift of life, once given, cannot be taken away. Those who have been stricken enjoy the special privilege of being able to fight with their might, main, and faith to live fully, richly, exuberantly - no matter how their days may be numbered.Third, we can open our eyes and hearts. God relishes surprise. We want lives of simple, predictable ease -- smooth, even trails as far as the eye can see -- but God likes to go off-road. He provokes us with twists and turns. He places us in predicaments that seem to defy our endurance and comprehension -- and yet don't. By His love and grace, we persevere. The challenges that make our hearts leap and stomachs churn invariably strengthen our faith and grant measures of wisdom and joy we would not experience otherwise.'You Have Been Called'. Picture yourself in a hospital bed. The fog of anesthesia has begun to wear away. A doctor stands at your feet; a loved one holds your hand at the side. 'It's cancer,' the healer announces.The natural reaction is to turn to God and ask him to serve as a cosmic Santa. 'Dear God, make it all go away. Make everything simpler.' But another voice whispers: 'You have been called.' Your quandary has drawn you closer to God, closer to those you love, closer to the issues that matter -- and has dragged into insignificance the banal concerns that occupy our 'normal time.'There's another kind of response, although usually short-lived, an inexplicable shudder of excitement as if a clarifying moment of calamity has swept away everything trivial and tiny, and placed before us the challenge of important questions.The moment you enter the Valley of the Shadow of Death, things change. You discover that Christianity is not something doughy, passive, pious, and soft. Faith may be the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.But it also draws you into a world shorn of fearful caution. The life of belief teems with thrills, boldness, danger, shocks, reversals, triumphs, and epiphanies.Think of Paul, traipsing through the known world and contemplating trips to what must have seemed the antipodes (Spain), shaking the dust from his sandals, worrying not about the morrow, but only about the moment.There's nothing wilder than a life of humble virtue -- for it is through selflessness and service that God wrings from our bodies and spirits the most we ever could give, the most we ever could offer, and the most we ever could do.Finally, we can let love change everything. When Jesus was faced with the prospect of crucifixion, he grieved not for himself, but for us. He cried for Jerusalem before entering the Holy City.From the Cross, he took on the cumulative burden of human sin and weakness, and begged for forgiveness on our behalf.We get repeated chances to learn that life is not about us, that we acquired purpose and satisfaction by sharing in God's love for others.Sickness gets us part way there. It reminds us of our limitations and dependence.But it also gives us a chance to serve the healthy. A minister friend of mine observes that people suffering grave afflictions often acquire the faith of two people, while loved ones accept the burden of two peoples' worries and fears.'Learning How to Live'. Most of us have watched friends as they drifted toward God's arms, not with resignation, but with peace and hope. In so doing, they have taught us not how to die, but how to live.They have emulated Christ by transmitting the power and authority of live. I sat by my best friend's bedside a few years ago as a wasting cancer took him away.He kept at his table a worn Bible and a 1928 edition of the Book of Common Prayer. A shattering grief disabled his family, many of his old friends, and at least one priest.Here was an humble and very good guy, someone who apologized when he winced with pain because he thought it made his guest uncomfortable. He restrained his equanimity and good humor literally until his last conscious moment.'I'm going to try to beat [this cancer],' he told me several months before he died. 'But if I don't, I'll see you on the other side.'His gift was to remind everyone around him that even though God doesn't promise us tomorrow, he does promise us eternity -- filled with life and love we cannot comprehend -- and that one can, in the throes of sickness, point the rest of us toward timeless truths that will help us weather future storms.Through such trials, God bids us to choose: Do we believe, or do we not? Will we be bold enough to love, daring enough to serve, humble enough to submit, and strong enough to acknowledge our limitations? Can we surrender our concern in things that don't matter so that we might devote our remaining days to things that do?When our faith flags, He throws reminders in our way. Think of the prayer warriors in our midst. They change things, and those of us who have been on the receiving end of their petitions and intercessions know it. It is hard to describe, but there are times when suddenly the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and you feel a surge of the Spirit. Somehow you just know: Others have chosen, when talking to the Author of all creation, to lift us up -- to speak of us!This is love of a very special order. But so is the ability to sit back and appreciate the wonder of every created thing.The mere thought of death somehow makes every blessing vivid, every happiness more luminous and intense. We may not know how our contest with sickness will end, but we have felt the ineluctable touch of God.What is man that Thou are mindful of him? We don't know much, but we know this: No matter where we are, no matter what we do, no matter how bleak or frightening our prospects, each and every one of us who believe each and every day, lies in the same safe and impregnable place, in the hollow of God's hand.'Tony Snow
Friends and Family, it seems this note may be making the rounds amongst emailers recently, and I am glad that I received it because is worth reading, keeping and sharing it with others and that is why I am sending it to you. I checked it's validity out for myself, it is bonifide and was actually published in "Christianity Today" in July of 2007. It is an outstanding essay which was written by Tony Snow, the former Presidential Press Secretary who recently died. It was posted on their website on 7/20/07 with this preface. http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2007/july/25.30.htmlCommentator and broadcaster Tony Snow announced that he had colon cancer in 2005. Following surgery and chemo-therapy, Snow joined the Bush administration in April 2006 as press secretary. Unfortunately, on March 23 Snow, 51, a husband and father of three, announced that the cancer had recurred, with tumors found in his abdomen—leading to surgery in April, followed by more chemotherapy. Snow went back to work in the White House Briefing Room on May 30, but resigned August 31 (2007). Snow was asked "what spiritual lessons he had been learning through the ordeal and this was his uplifting and remarkable faith promoting reply. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
'Blessings arrive in unexpected packages -- in my case, cancer. Those of us with potentially fatal diseases -- and there are millions in America today -- find ourselves in the odd position of coping with our mortality while trying to fathom God's will. Although it would be the height of presumption to declare with confidence 'What It All Means,'Scripture provides powerful hints and consolations. The first is that we shouldn't spend too much time trying to answer the 'why' questions: Why me? Why must people suffer?Why can't someone else get sick? We can't answer such things, and the questions themselves often are designed more to express our anguish than to solicit an answer.I don't know why I have cancer, and I don't much care. It is what it is, a plain and indisputable fact. Yet even while staring into a mirror darkly, great and stunning truths began to take shape. Our maladies define a central feature of our existence: We are fallen. We are imperfect.Our bodies give out. But, despite this -- or because of it -- God offers the possibility of salvation and grace. We don't know how the narrative of our lives will end, but we get to choose how to use the interval between now and the moment we meet our Creator face-to-face.Second, we need to get past the anxiety. The mere thought of dying can send adrenaline flooding through your system. A dizzy, unfocused panic seizes you. Your heart thumps; your head swims. You think of nothingness and swoon. You fear partings; you worry about the impact on family and friends. You fidget and get nowhere. To regain footing, remember that we were born not into death, but into life - and that the journey continues after we have finished our days on this earth. We accept this on faith, but that faith is nourished by a conviction that stirs even within many non-believing hearts - an institution that the gift of life, once given, cannot be taken away. Those who have been stricken enjoy the special privilege of being able to fight with their might, main, and faith to live fully, richly, exuberantly - no matter how their days may be numbered.Third, we can open our eyes and hearts. God relishes surprise. We want lives of simple, predictable ease -- smooth, even trails as far as the eye can see -- but God likes to go off-road. He provokes us with twists and turns. He places us in predicaments that seem to defy our endurance and comprehension -- and yet don't. By His love and grace, we persevere. The challenges that make our hearts leap and stomachs churn invariably strengthen our faith and grant measures of wisdom and joy we would not experience otherwise.'You Have Been Called'. Picture yourself in a hospital bed. The fog of anesthesia has begun to wear away. A doctor stands at your feet; a loved one holds your hand at the side. 'It's cancer,' the healer announces.The natural reaction is to turn to God and ask him to serve as a cosmic Santa. 'Dear God, make it all go away. Make everything simpler.' But another voice whispers: 'You have been called.' Your quandary has drawn you closer to God, closer to those you love, closer to the issues that matter -- and has dragged into insignificance the banal concerns that occupy our 'normal time.'There's another kind of response, although usually short-lived, an inexplicable shudder of excitement as if a clarifying moment of calamity has swept away everything trivial and tiny, and placed before us the challenge of important questions.The moment you enter the Valley of the Shadow of Death, things change. You discover that Christianity is not something doughy, passive, pious, and soft. Faith may be the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.But it also draws you into a world shorn of fearful caution. The life of belief teems with thrills, boldness, danger, shocks, reversals, triumphs, and epiphanies.Think of Paul, traipsing through the known world and contemplating trips to what must have seemed the antipodes (Spain), shaking the dust from his sandals, worrying not about the morrow, but only about the moment.There's nothing wilder than a life of humble virtue -- for it is through selflessness and service that God wrings from our bodies and spirits the most we ever could give, the most we ever could offer, and the most we ever could do.Finally, we can let love change everything. When Jesus was faced with the prospect of crucifixion, he grieved not for himself, but for us. He cried for Jerusalem before entering the Holy City.From the Cross, he took on the cumulative burden of human sin and weakness, and begged for forgiveness on our behalf.We get repeated chances to learn that life is not about us, that we acquired purpose and satisfaction by sharing in God's love for others.Sickness gets us part way there. It reminds us of our limitations and dependence.But it also gives us a chance to serve the healthy. A minister friend of mine observes that people suffering grave afflictions often acquire the faith of two people, while loved ones accept the burden of two peoples' worries and fears.'Learning How to Live'. Most of us have watched friends as they drifted toward God's arms, not with resignation, but with peace and hope. In so doing, they have taught us not how to die, but how to live.They have emulated Christ by transmitting the power and authority of live. I sat by my best friend's bedside a few years ago as a wasting cancer took him away.He kept at his table a worn Bible and a 1928 edition of the Book of Common Prayer. A shattering grief disabled his family, many of his old friends, and at least one priest.Here was an humble and very good guy, someone who apologized when he winced with pain because he thought it made his guest uncomfortable. He restrained his equanimity and good humor literally until his last conscious moment.'I'm going to try to beat [this cancer],' he told me several months before he died. 'But if I don't, I'll see you on the other side.'His gift was to remind everyone around him that even though God doesn't promise us tomorrow, he does promise us eternity -- filled with life and love we cannot comprehend -- and that one can, in the throes of sickness, point the rest of us toward timeless truths that will help us weather future storms.Through such trials, God bids us to choose: Do we believe, or do we not? Will we be bold enough to love, daring enough to serve, humble enough to submit, and strong enough to acknowledge our limitations? Can we surrender our concern in things that don't matter so that we might devote our remaining days to things that do?When our faith flags, He throws reminders in our way. Think of the prayer warriors in our midst. They change things, and those of us who have been on the receiving end of their petitions and intercessions know it. It is hard to describe, but there are times when suddenly the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and you feel a surge of the Spirit. Somehow you just know: Others have chosen, when talking to the Author of all creation, to lift us up -- to speak of us!This is love of a very special order. But so is the ability to sit back and appreciate the wonder of every created thing.The mere thought of death somehow makes every blessing vivid, every happiness more luminous and intense. We may not know how our contest with sickness will end, but we have felt the ineluctable touch of God.What is man that Thou are mindful of him? We don't know much, but we know this: No matter where we are, no matter what we do, no matter how bleak or frightening our prospects, each and every one of us who believe each and every day, lies in the same safe and impregnable place, in the hollow of God's hand.'Tony Snow
Sunday, July 6, 2008
LOTOJA 2007 story
While I'm here I thought I'd toss up my story about the 2007 LOTOJA race. LOTOJA is a 206 miler from Logan Utah to Jackson Hole Wyoming. I love LOTOJA and plan on doing it yearly "till death do us part". Rick Frost and I were the only ones I knew of from Arizona to do the race last year. I did the race solo(no sag) and if it weren't for Rick and his family, I wouldn't have been able to pull it off, they were awesome.
I wanted to go easier than I did that day because I had the HooDoo 500 the very next weekend but got caught up in the racing and didn't preserve myself until later in the race. I was able to finish HooDoo but I believe LOTOJA may have been detrimental to my health.
I can't stop thinking about doing HooDoo again this year but it's the same time line as last year with the races running back-to-back so we'll see. Anyways, here's the brief write-up, take care.
LOTOJA 2007:
Let me start by correcting my result, I finished in 10:57. Not a huge correction from your e-mail, but it's nice to tell people with tongue-in-cheek that Rick and I finished " around 10 hours".
I wasn't going to do this race, the logistics were too stressful with only Rick Frost and myself being entered, and me doing it solo (without a support vehicle). My main problem ( knowing I was going alone and without a sag) was how to get back from Jackson Hole after the finish. I had resigned myself to just finishing and looking for a ride at the finish, or even hitchhiking as Kyle did at Ragbrai this year. Rick came through huge though by asking Jill's father to drive up to Jackson in my car, and he was kind enough to do that for me. I gotta say here that the Frost's were absolutely incredible to help me race, they even drove my bike up and were pretty much my only cheering section.
Weather was perfect at the start, arm warmers maybe. Typical staggered start with the faster groups heading out first, 33 packs in all, around 50 in each pack. I started with the 7th pack and we were flying. We went by the group that started 2nd about 10 miles from Preston. Of course Preston is where it all gets scambled, and it's every rider for themselves. The first big climb at Strawberry Pass is where I started thinking about preserving myself for next week and let some groups go. Overall, I really just wanted to try out the Perpetuem (endurance drink with protein), and not get too pooped for my little race next week.
So, I went easy up the first climb, went down the other side very fast, then got stupid. I came upon three very fast riders, we worked well together and tore it up. We passed most the riders from my original group. We kept pushing until I came to my senses and realized I was just jeopardizing my event next week. At this point I was a bit fried and remorseful about it. One thing that slowed me down was not having a crew to give me stuff. I stopped at the three neutral feed zones to mix the Perpetuem, this took about 5 minutes and I got frustrated watching the sagged riders go by.
I was feeling sick at this point because I believe I had mixed the Perpetuem too thick, and for sure went too hard. I crawled up Snake River Pass ( the steepest part of the race) and rode by myself to Afton. A group caught me after Afton and I was feeling a little better. It was around this time fellow Brumbus Rick pulls up seeking shelter from the head wind. It did get pretty windy along Star Valley, and a paceline was the place to be. We were in the same disorganized pack for awhile but we were slowing him down. He pulled a small group away and off into the sunset. Rick just missed his goal of finishing under ten hours, I think he would have done it, but out of devotion, he waited for his group too much. I heard many a "thank you" after the race from riders in his group thanking him for his long pulls at the front. When I got to Alpine I was feeling sick again not wanting to eat, along with nausea. So, I slowed down to a snail's pace again until the last aid station where I met up with a group that I could stay with and cruised to the finish.
After the race I said my goodbyes to the Frosts and headed down to American Fork where I stayed the rest of the night at a friend's house. Yikes, that was painful in itself.
I'm glad I was able to go up this year and grateful for Rick's family making it possible. One of these years I'll put it together and do better. But, if that never happens, I'll still have fun and enjoy this beautiful race.
Must cry now, Jim
I wanted to go easier than I did that day because I had the HooDoo 500 the very next weekend but got caught up in the racing and didn't preserve myself until later in the race. I was able to finish HooDoo but I believe LOTOJA may have been detrimental to my health.
I can't stop thinking about doing HooDoo again this year but it's the same time line as last year with the races running back-to-back so we'll see. Anyways, here's the brief write-up, take care.
LOTOJA 2007:
Let me start by correcting my result, I finished in 10:57. Not a huge correction from your e-mail, but it's nice to tell people with tongue-in-cheek that Rick and I finished " around 10 hours".
I wasn't going to do this race, the logistics were too stressful with only Rick Frost and myself being entered, and me doing it solo (without a support vehicle). My main problem ( knowing I was going alone and without a sag) was how to get back from Jackson Hole after the finish. I had resigned myself to just finishing and looking for a ride at the finish, or even hitchhiking as Kyle did at Ragbrai this year. Rick came through huge though by asking Jill's father to drive up to Jackson in my car, and he was kind enough to do that for me. I gotta say here that the Frost's were absolutely incredible to help me race, they even drove my bike up and were pretty much my only cheering section.
Weather was perfect at the start, arm warmers maybe. Typical staggered start with the faster groups heading out first, 33 packs in all, around 50 in each pack. I started with the 7th pack and we were flying. We went by the group that started 2nd about 10 miles from Preston. Of course Preston is where it all gets scambled, and it's every rider for themselves. The first big climb at Strawberry Pass is where I started thinking about preserving myself for next week and let some groups go. Overall, I really just wanted to try out the Perpetuem (endurance drink with protein), and not get too pooped for my little race next week.
So, I went easy up the first climb, went down the other side very fast, then got stupid. I came upon three very fast riders, we worked well together and tore it up. We passed most the riders from my original group. We kept pushing until I came to my senses and realized I was just jeopardizing my event next week. At this point I was a bit fried and remorseful about it. One thing that slowed me down was not having a crew to give me stuff. I stopped at the three neutral feed zones to mix the Perpetuem, this took about 5 minutes and I got frustrated watching the sagged riders go by.
I was feeling sick at this point because I believe I had mixed the Perpetuem too thick, and for sure went too hard. I crawled up Snake River Pass ( the steepest part of the race) and rode by myself to Afton. A group caught me after Afton and I was feeling a little better. It was around this time fellow Brumbus Rick pulls up seeking shelter from the head wind. It did get pretty windy along Star Valley, and a paceline was the place to be. We were in the same disorganized pack for awhile but we were slowing him down. He pulled a small group away and off into the sunset. Rick just missed his goal of finishing under ten hours, I think he would have done it, but out of devotion, he waited for his group too much. I heard many a "thank you" after the race from riders in his group thanking him for his long pulls at the front. When I got to Alpine I was feeling sick again not wanting to eat, along with nausea. So, I slowed down to a snail's pace again until the last aid station where I met up with a group that I could stay with and cruised to the finish.
After the race I said my goodbyes to the Frosts and headed down to American Fork where I stayed the rest of the night at a friend's house. Yikes, that was painful in itself.
I'm glad I was able to go up this year and grateful for Rick's family making it possible. One of these years I'll put it together and do better. But, if that never happens, I'll still have fun and enjoy this beautiful race.
Must cry now, Jim
Saturday was good to me
Long time...Had a good ride Saturday. A group of us met at "the corner" at 0500. Let's see, I believe Dave Funk, Gary Raymond, Gary Prahl, Rick Green, Barry Weisman and a few other riders whom I'm embarrassed to say I didn't try to get to know. The unknowns fell off early so the opportunity to chat never presented itself later.
It's funny how I fought to get going that morning, I just didn't feel like getting out. Finally got the socks on, once I can get an article of clothing on i'm good to go. Pulled up half-heartedly with the intent of going a different direction, a shorter distance, and a shorter amount of time. I had my tunes and felt my body was telling me I needed to go easy, boy my body was deceptive that day.
We started riding and I made a quick and firm commitment to go around with the fellas. I would make the best of it, I hadn't been pack riding much lately, especially as fast as these guys go, but I would try and hang on.
We decided on a clockwise Beeline loop. Felt good until about half way up Beeline then Rick Green fell off. I stayed on for about another half mile then decided if I didn't want to blow up completely, I'd better back off and Rick was my excuse, I would just work with him. Barry was off not much longer after myself so the three of us rotated up to the turnoff. Rick and I took off a bit before the others and stayed ahead of the rest until just before the river. We all turned left up Usery. Gary Raymond was struggling a bit and was low on water ( he drank 4 bottles to my 2 by the time we got to the gas station) and needed to replenish. Rick, Barry and another rider went straight on McDowell, The two Garys, Dave and I turn right on Hawes and made our way back for water on Power and McDowel. Afterwards we took off for a front-side Usery loop. Dave and Gary Prahl were the horses this day and did the majority of the pulling.
What started as a weak attempt to ride turned into one of the best rides I had been on in quite a while. I got worked hard and felt good to be able to stay with the pack. It was the hottest day I've ridden in this year, and all of us were sweating profusely. I had a good time and I think we all got what we wanted that day so I was happy I overcame the natural man that morning.
I did see Todd and Amy Kerr while heading up to Usery, they had a flat and my instincts begged me to stop and help but Todd said they were fine so I stayed on the back on the train and continued to get pulled along.
So, good day with good people.
It's funny how I fought to get going that morning, I just didn't feel like getting out. Finally got the socks on, once I can get an article of clothing on i'm good to go. Pulled up half-heartedly with the intent of going a different direction, a shorter distance, and a shorter amount of time. I had my tunes and felt my body was telling me I needed to go easy, boy my body was deceptive that day.
We started riding and I made a quick and firm commitment to go around with the fellas. I would make the best of it, I hadn't been pack riding much lately, especially as fast as these guys go, but I would try and hang on.
We decided on a clockwise Beeline loop. Felt good until about half way up Beeline then Rick Green fell off. I stayed on for about another half mile then decided if I didn't want to blow up completely, I'd better back off and Rick was my excuse, I would just work with him. Barry was off not much longer after myself so the three of us rotated up to the turnoff. Rick and I took off a bit before the others and stayed ahead of the rest until just before the river. We all turned left up Usery. Gary Raymond was struggling a bit and was low on water ( he drank 4 bottles to my 2 by the time we got to the gas station) and needed to replenish. Rick, Barry and another rider went straight on McDowell, The two Garys, Dave and I turn right on Hawes and made our way back for water on Power and McDowel. Afterwards we took off for a front-side Usery loop. Dave and Gary Prahl were the horses this day and did the majority of the pulling.
What started as a weak attempt to ride turned into one of the best rides I had been on in quite a while. I got worked hard and felt good to be able to stay with the pack. It was the hottest day I've ridden in this year, and all of us were sweating profusely. I had a good time and I think we all got what we wanted that day so I was happy I overcame the natural man that morning.
I did see Todd and Amy Kerr while heading up to Usery, they had a flat and my instincts begged me to stop and help but Todd said they were fine so I stayed on the back on the train and continued to get pulled along.
So, good day with good people.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Jason's run and a warm weekend ride
26.2 mile run for the fun of it? Jason Destories pulled that off last Thursday morning. He wanted to experience that distance as a prelude to an Ironman. Tough to do, especially with no support, so I rode out and left some bottled water in a few places and let him know where. He texted me later and said he made it, nice job Jason. Jason btw, is an 18 year old aspiring cyclist/triathlete with a promising future. He's got the body, heart and mentality to go far. My hope is that he finds a good coach who can help him be his best.
Today a few of us rode about half way to Payson. I didn't think I would be going because my lower back and right a/c joint were flaring up again yesterday, but things settled down during the 3 hours of sleep I had. Sterling had left a cooler with ice and water at the Saguaro Lake turnoff and Reggie Heywood's son was out there along the route with the same, very cool of those two to help out like that, they saved quite a few from dehydration. The temp had to be at least 105 by the time we got home 80 miles later.
John Paul Jones was out and made the distance. He's progressing well and wants to do Desperado Dual in August. He and Kyle were both a little short on food but I'm sure they learned. Kyle even bonked about 10 miles from home but got a little food and Gatorade in him to pull it off. Kim and Barry Thomas were out, Kim rode well and is very impressive to have bitten off and finished a ride strong like that, atta girl Kim.
Sterling struggled for most of the ride with lingering back pain issues. The back is huge in climbing and I don't know how he will be able to complete the 300 warriors ride. I guess he has a few months to work it out.
Reggie was about hit by a car when after losing a chain, decided to try and put it back on in the middle of Bush highway, in the low light of morning and with no tail light. I was waiting for him and saw it all. The car did see him I guess and drove around him. We laughed about it later but that could've been bad.
So, good to get some distance in and with the added bonus of the heat, made for a good day of cycling.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Why We Ride...
Where was I? Oh...coping with earthlife issues. I was off the bike for a while and have returned to my senses. One week off is no problem, a few cobwebs, but you're right back in the game. Two weeks off and the decay begins in earnest. I guess I've learned over the years to try and never go more than two weeks without riding, it's just too brutal to work back into it, especially as I ripen.
When I would find myself in that situation I would have to go through what I call a "purification ride" to get back into the fold. About twenty miles in on such a ride I would find myself in that world between the living and the dead. I would then have to make a decision whether to seek out the light of cycling bliss, or the alternative, doing anything other than cycling.
I guess I've always gone to the light. Even years ago when a large group of my friends defected, and began motocross riding, I stayed true. Yes, and even though a close personal friend recently revealed her disdain for my endurance cycling adventures and in a nutshell said that riding that long and far was "stupid and unhealthy", I choose cycling.
I don't take offense to such remarks, I know she just doesn't understand it all.
I found the following letter an unknown author posted somewhere years ago. I kept it and share it with you now. Take care
Why We Bicycle--
When I would find myself in that situation I would have to go through what I call a "purification ride" to get back into the fold. About twenty miles in on such a ride I would find myself in that world between the living and the dead. I would then have to make a decision whether to seek out the light of cycling bliss, or the alternative, doing anything other than cycling.
I guess I've always gone to the light. Even years ago when a large group of my friends defected, and began motocross riding, I stayed true. Yes, and even though a close personal friend recently revealed her disdain for my endurance cycling adventures and in a nutshell said that riding that long and far was "stupid and unhealthy", I choose cycling.
I don't take offense to such remarks, I know she just doesn't understand it all.
I found the following letter an unknown author posted somewhere years ago. I kept it and share it with you now. Take care
Why We Bicycle--
We are people in otherwise responsible positions with predictable lives in which we are used to
guiding events to our will, who now repeatedly subject ourselves to the elements, forces of nature
and hard realities of riding at the edge of the envelope of our abilities, physical powers and
endurance in a chaotic and not really predictable or controllable situation together. There is a
reason. We have found that reason.
We can talk about the activism of the cycling experience: our ancestors for thousands of years
derived their existence from "the hunt" in which they exposed themselves to the rigors and
dangers of the natural, unknown and unpredictable world.
We can talk about worship: the sheer beauty of the natural world in which God speaks to us in the
universal language of sun and day, wind and waterfall, and touches our soul.
We can talk about the physical challenges our bodies were made to meet and are missing in our
daily lives. The opportunity to push oneself beyond ones known powers and skills, and the cleansing
simplicity of maximum effort.
We can talk about energy expenditure: feeling the recoil of our hearts pounding at 180, pumping
20 quarts a minute through our dilated capillaries, our lungs taking in 20 gallons of frosty air and
expelling 20 gallons of vapor a minute, steam rising from our beaded sweaty naked legs into the
frosty air.
We can talk about the simplicity of a single task in our otherwise complicated lives.
We can talk about bonding: in this age, which abounds in lack of trust and honor, we rest
comfortable and sure in the knowledge that no matter what happens to any one person or piece of equipment, we will get through this together and come out together and share whatever
knowledge and skill and material we have to do it, and solve problems together, like a tire iron
and duct tape splint for a dislocated thumb.
We can talk about fear: and meeting it in a direct and simple fashion when the rest of our lives
have indirect and amorphous not really confrontable fears.
We can talk about focus: on the downhill. the absolute necessity to eliminate distractions, mental
diversions and lack of focus in which we normally live our daily lives and focus entirely on what
we are doing.
We can talk about spilling blood and it's cleaning effect of washing us free of the fear of our
mortality and of death that makes us hide from life.
We can talk about the transcendental experience: the inner calm that comes when we have our weight back and loose on the screaming downhill and the bike is everywhere in front of and below us,
our eyes and muscles communicating and adjusting faster than we can think, adapting to the
events that come faster than any conscious mind can respond, and yet we are floating loose and
still and free and calm in the midst of chaos- totally free as we cannot remember ever being free.
It is moments like these that make up the very substance of life itself. But when you talk about
this with your friends, they will look at you a little funny. They will not understand. They will try to
dismiss these experiences, which cannot be surrounded by words, which do not fit words, and
which cannot be understood through words. But nothing can compare to the doing of it, you
just have to do it.
guiding events to our will, who now repeatedly subject ourselves to the elements, forces of nature
and hard realities of riding at the edge of the envelope of our abilities, physical powers and
endurance in a chaotic and not really predictable or controllable situation together. There is a
reason. We have found that reason.
We can talk about the activism of the cycling experience: our ancestors for thousands of years
derived their existence from "the hunt" in which they exposed themselves to the rigors and
dangers of the natural, unknown and unpredictable world.
We can talk about worship: the sheer beauty of the natural world in which God speaks to us in the
universal language of sun and day, wind and waterfall, and touches our soul.
We can talk about the physical challenges our bodies were made to meet and are missing in our
daily lives. The opportunity to push oneself beyond ones known powers and skills, and the cleansing
simplicity of maximum effort.
We can talk about energy expenditure: feeling the recoil of our hearts pounding at 180, pumping
20 quarts a minute through our dilated capillaries, our lungs taking in 20 gallons of frosty air and
expelling 20 gallons of vapor a minute, steam rising from our beaded sweaty naked legs into the
frosty air.
We can talk about the simplicity of a single task in our otherwise complicated lives.
We can talk about bonding: in this age, which abounds in lack of trust and honor, we rest
comfortable and sure in the knowledge that no matter what happens to any one person or piece of equipment, we will get through this together and come out together and share whatever
knowledge and skill and material we have to do it, and solve problems together, like a tire iron
and duct tape splint for a dislocated thumb.
We can talk about fear: and meeting it in a direct and simple fashion when the rest of our lives
have indirect and amorphous not really confrontable fears.
We can talk about focus: on the downhill. the absolute necessity to eliminate distractions, mental
diversions and lack of focus in which we normally live our daily lives and focus entirely on what
we are doing.
We can talk about spilling blood and it's cleaning effect of washing us free of the fear of our
mortality and of death that makes us hide from life.
We can talk about the transcendental experience: the inner calm that comes when we have our weight back and loose on the screaming downhill and the bike is everywhere in front of and below us,
our eyes and muscles communicating and adjusting faster than we can think, adapting to the
events that come faster than any conscious mind can respond, and yet we are floating loose and
still and free and calm in the midst of chaos- totally free as we cannot remember ever being free.
It is moments like these that make up the very substance of life itself. But when you talk about
this with your friends, they will look at you a little funny. They will not understand. They will try to
dismiss these experiences, which cannot be surrounded by words, which do not fit words, and
which cannot be understood through words. But nothing can compare to the doing of it, you
just have to do it.
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