Saturday morning, it's cool, sunny, and exciting.
At the starting line, in Hammond, everyone is hopping,, stretching, checking and preparing.
Colorful jersey's , colorful bikes, colorful personalities everyone waiting for the start,
the journeys beginning, the trek's source, the root of the challenge that lies ahead.
I checked out my bike one last time, retied my shoelaces twice, took inventory of supplies and
equipment, cleaned my sunglasses and waited. I heard the starting gun yet nobody moved,
it took a while for the movement to reach me. First strategy, the 2/3 rule, the 2/3 rule is when you make sure 2/3's of the riders start ahead of you, their job is to pick up nails, glass, pointy rocks and squeeze the last fluids out of road kill, this makes for a smoother ride for me.
Down the first street, most riders passing me up, I keep repeating to myself, let them go,
I'll catch them at 30 miles when they fade into SAG land... The SAG vehicle is the one that picks you up when you can't hack it anymore, a fate avoided at any cost..
We make the first turn and an unlucky fellow got the first flat tire in the first turn...
I hate to see someone have a flat but I whisper to myself , thanks for clearing the road.
As we made that first turn to face the north I realized "the wind is blowing from the north"
yes, right into my face, pushing against me as I try to go north, working against me as I try to climb the "Hammond Range" , a group of mountains not on any map, well nestled in the backroads of southwest Mississippi and southeast Louisiana..
"No problem", I'm in great shape, I'm ready , I'll just power through, no sweat, bring them on.
I felt so confident I skipped the first rest stop at 10 miles, I hadn't sweat much , had plenty of drink, and wasn't hungry or tired. On to the 2nd stop. Hill after hill, felt like mountain after mountain, trying to keep up my cadence I had to pedal standing up over the peaks , pumping and pumping, right knee starting to ache, left thigh burning.
Whoops! that used to be a opossum, veer to the left, still had a little juice in it.
Oou!, what's that smell, oh, it's the local dairy farm, a herd of cows can certainly create a
overwhelming smell not similar to roses, poo poo.. We make a hard turn to the left, the road got very rough, so rough it was covered water bottles that flew off the speedsters as they flew by.
2nd rest stop, ate some fruit and nuts, filled up water bottles, peed, and back to it.
As I approach the 30 mile mark I realize I'm not passing up many riders, well, we'll give them another chance, more time to fall prey to fatigue and weakness. Beautiful green pastures harboring horses, cattle, hay bales, and an occasional pond. The houses were scattered, their peripherals displayed the owners character. Veer to the right!, an armadillo, looks like it's been here a while, just a dried shell left. Thighs are on fire, ass hurts, look out for that flattened raccoon carcass, hill after hill,, starting to pass up riders. I stop at the 3rd rest stop long enough to fill my water bottles, eat some fruit,, nuts, and a chocolate candy bar, I shoved a granola bar in my pocket for later. I didn't get too far when I met the monster mountain, the hilton of hills, the pinnacle of peaks, the mega mesa, the portent of plateaus, yes, it was "KING KONG".
Notorious in it's ability to make riders "walk the plank" (walk your bike across the top of a hill).
I gained all the momentum I could , peddling ,peddling, pushing, pushing, going up, and up
and up, thighs burning, knees aching, arms twitching, higher and higher, closer and closer to the top, fighting gravity, fighting pain, pumping, pumping, reaching the summit I feel more at ease, then I don't know if was the altitude, the thin air, or the endorfins raging, but as I crossed the top I smelled a burning smell, a reptile smell, and a rancid old smell, Whoa!, look out!, I find myself face to face with "Godzilla", veer left! "fire bolt! ", he swiped his right claw at me, I veered to the right and began a high speed pedal downward, faster and faster over 30 miles an hour. My ears popping, feeling a little nauseous , I started to see other riders , I slowed down and mixed in , I turned and glanced back , but no "Godzilla" , should I mention this to the other riders, NO!, it's bad enough I'm ringing a bell as riders pass me, they'd SAG me for being delirious.
Next stop lunch, had a turkey sandwich, plenty grapes, nuts, and some trail mix. I sat in the grass a while, rested, composed myself, wiped the soot from the fire bolt off my leg, and thought
I'm not doing bad for a grandpa. Not cocky just confident I'm gonna make it. After using one of the cleanest porta potty's I've ever been in, I hit the road again, quick bike check, re- tie shoes, put on gloves, helmet, sunglasses and hope for no more suprises. Still climbing to do but a little more subtle, once you climatize to the altitude it gets easier , as the sun gains strength the wind dies a little and the rays plug a few sparks in the old legs. The MP3 payer is blaring ,
motivating me onward, hits form the 40's to now, from Tommy Dorsey to Metallica.
Feeling a lot better, got into a groove, legs became mechanical, breathing became controlled,
and my conscious mind stepped out of my brain and sat in a lawn chair on top of my head drinking an iced tea and enjoying the scenery, this is how it should be, your body is the median and the journey is the goal, the end is the end, enjoy the journey. Enjoyed the scenery ,
took a few pictures, went 10 miles without seeing an other rider, oh, oh, did I make a wrong turn? or am I winning the Tour. A tour support motorcycle rides by and gives me a thumbs up, well I'm not lost maybe I'm winning the tour , but I didn't pass that many riders, not 750 of them, what gives, oh, oh, reality check maybe I in last place , I did see some buzzards circling overhead, they know things , don't panic just enjoy the ride. Stop #5, my bike technician Jonathan is manning the cycle repair for that stop , he spurs me on , encourages me and
reminds me there aren't too many riders behind me. I did notice the candy bars were starting to melt and it's been noon a long time. Oh oh, cut it short and get at it. pedal, pedal pedal,
circle, circle, circle, now pushing I can smell the finish line, and I can smell humiliation if I'm last to come in. Grabbed my mp3 player and found "Born to be wild " by Stepphenwolf, that alone added 3 miles an hour to my pace. followed that by the "Roses" song by Outkast. Isn't technology great. Last stop, grabbed some water, ate some fruit and a few chocolates ,remounted and pushed on. Like a cheetah bearing down on it's prey I focused on the finish line, faster and faster, I could smell dinner, my ass could feel the bathtub, my legs could feel the bed, time to end this journey. I entered the last leg to the finish by crossing the
interstate, the trees were lining the road and there were many small hills, how about "The End " by The Doors , music is so motivating. The entrance to the Park is hilly, winding, beautiful and can't be appreciated any other way, walking is too slow and driving is too fast,
a bicycle is perfect. I near the finish line and I'm faster and faster, I can hear the activity,
through the trees, I can see glimpses of people, won't be long now. I make the last turn into the main circle and I'm there, the sign said so, a small crowd at the finish line applauded and cheered me in , for a minute I had won the tour, well I won my tour, and that's what counts.
75 miles done, 75 to go. I dismounted and called Marie, she was at the other end of the park waiting for a bus ride to the finish line. I hung around the finish line a few minutes to make sure other riders came in behind me, they did, not a lot , but when I found out about 250 riders had dropped out I felt accomplished. I turned in my bike and waited for Marie and the bus to the parking lot, fatigue started to build as the excitement diminished, legs tightening up,
neck getting stiff, lower back hurting, feet swelling, what did you expect I'm 55 years old.
The bus ride around the park was awesome, people were getting ready for a night of festivities .
I wanted a hot bath, riders were talking about tomorrow, I wanted to talk about today.
Plenty of nice people with 2 things in common, riding bicycles and supporting MS.
One of my American Legion buddies has MS and I hope the money raised today helps him in some kind of way. Friends have given me generous donations to turn in to the MS people,
if your interested in making a donation contact me or send them to :
The National MS Society
4613 Fairfield St.
Metairie, La 70006
As the night progressed I tightened up more and more, by 7:00 o'clock I had my doubts whether tomorrow I'll be riding a bike in the tour or riding in a Taurus homeward.
At 8:30 I was sound asleep.
See part 2 for maybe tommorrow.
Monday, October 23, 2006
Sunday, October 15, 2006
MSTour for Cure Part 2 of 3
Sunday Morning,
Woke up about 6:00 am, took inventory of body parts and morale,
body parts good, all there, very stiff , felt like I had been in a brawl
with 12 large men in a tight alley, morale was so-so . I've lost some confidence
since yesterday morning, my readiness in question, my stamina is balancing on a tightrope,
Do I go home and feel great about yesterday or do I risk it all, take a chance of being picked up by the SAG truck, throw my hands up in defeat, pat the top of my helmet and forever know I couldn't cut it? I dressed in my riding clothes and walked downstairs to put a bag in the car,
the motel was buzzing with riders ready to tackle another day, the buzz infected me , my decision was made, go for it, it wouldn't be me to drop if I had the slightest chance, my gumption and determination got me this far. Marie dropped me off at the starting line. I readied my bike, made last minute checks and joined the remaining riders for another day of pleasurable agony. The starting line crowd was smaller than yesterday, the outfits were as colorful as the riders were weary, and the weather was PERFECT.. I positioned myself following the 2/3 rule and waited for the start. I heard the crowd ahead start to rumble and we're off.
My legs instinctively began to work, once in the grove they felt as though there was still life inside them. A large POW! veered everyone to the left, a girls tire exploded, too much tire pressure.
The ride to the entrance of Percy Quinn Park is rolling, shady, cool, narrow and tight, no failures and no falls. A couple of miles under our belts and were on the public road, everyone's warmed up and ready to ride. As riders passed, I rang my bell, tandem riders requested 2 rings.
Determined, yet unsuccessful, to hold my pace today, I was passed by old men, children, an armadillo, an abandoned refrigerator and a dog that ran the first 30 miles of the tour.
No skipping "rest stops' today, at stop 1 I started an orange jag that lasted the day,
orange after orange after orange intermingled with raisins, grapes, nuts, and granola bars.
Beautiful weather , beautiful scenery, and rustic dairy farms with black and white cows laying under shade trees chewing a cud and laughing at the bicyclist riding by . The locals had laid out plenty of fresh road kill and camouflaged painted 4 wheelers dotted the landscape. Only one major hill today, a return match with King Kong. The remaining hills were shallow and the elevations trended docile as we struggled southward.
My left thumb grew sore from ringing my bell as a scores of riders passed me with ease and grace, I was not alarmed until a man that I can only describe as a Santa Claus out of uniform and on a bike passed me with a non-chalant smile. Time for a dose of motivation , I prepare my mp3 player for play when Louise pulls on side and we exchange pains, obstacles and determinations. At rest stop three we catch up with her friend George. Louise had rode the tour before but George was a first timer.. It was our duty and obligation to encourage and motivate him to a successful finish. Between us and stop 4 was "King Kong", a mount that is part of the Alp chain that runs through south Mississippi across the Atlantic and into France.
I donned my oxygen mask and preceded up King Kong ,my thighs burning , my knees aching my feet swelling, and my mouth sucking in air like a cheap vacuum cleaner.
In the lowest gear possible I breached the summit then crotched down for the high speed thrill ride to the bottom, what a rush, I removed my high altitude oxygen mask and continued to push and pedal attempting to gain momentum for the next hill. Nice try, three quarters up the next hill momentum has escaped and
back to peddling in lowest gear ,reaching for the top,breathing heavy, longing for home.
Louise, George and I continue to encourage each other, motivation , motivation , motivation.
Lunch stop filled the need to rest and recoup, pasta, peanut butter and jelly sandwich,rehydrate,
sit on something other than a probing bike seat. I gobbled up some grapes, oranges and a
mini chocolate candy , we prepared to get back at it. A teasing downhill then back up again.
Looking ahead we can see the flatlands approaching, a welcome sight. At 50 miles I could feel the endorfins kicking in, legs went to auto pilot, ass settled into a comfortable spot,
eyes became to scan wildly for interesting sights. We had just peaked a small rise when I glanced to the right and there it was nestled in the thick woods on the right, I slowed down long enough to get a mind photo, 6 or 7 feet tall, shaggy brown fur, manlike shape, long arms, and big feet, it turned and disappeared as soon as it saw me. Wow! what was that I yelled.
It was too late, nobody got to see it but me. Oh well, on to the next hill.
By stop 5, George , Louise and myself had shared life stories and were determined to make it all the way. A volunteer told us that many had dropped out and there weren't many behind us.
The support vehicles , motorcycles and equipment trucks continued to whirl around us, encourage us and lead the way home. We continue on to the last rest stop. 10 miles away
yet seemed like hundreds, no more hills, rough roads, support vehicles buzzing around us,
my ass hurting, my left thigh burning, my right knee aching, all resolved by only 20 miles to go.
Last rest stop in a small town, 10 miles to go, ate tons of oranges, grapes, nuts, anything that would give me a few ounces of energy to make it. Quick rest, then onward, we can smell home
now and the intensity and focus magnify. No more talking , no more sightseeing, no more
lamenting. The sun is starting it's path downward and we're headed home. We reach Hammond emotionally quick but the trip through town seemed forever.
Finally the last turn at the SLU Center, a crowd of thousands stand to cheer us across the finish line , microphones shoved on our face, cameras flashing and bands playing as we cruised in to the paddock area. ( well that's how I saw it).
I am now released from the prison of "can I do it again", the chains of "will I last", and the burden of " should I take the risk".
What an experience... Will I do it again ? Who knows.
later
gary
Woke up about 6:00 am, took inventory of body parts and morale,
body parts good, all there, very stiff , felt like I had been in a brawl
with 12 large men in a tight alley, morale was so-so . I've lost some confidence
since yesterday morning, my readiness in question, my stamina is balancing on a tightrope,
Do I go home and feel great about yesterday or do I risk it all, take a chance of being picked up by the SAG truck, throw my hands up in defeat, pat the top of my helmet and forever know I couldn't cut it? I dressed in my riding clothes and walked downstairs to put a bag in the car,
the motel was buzzing with riders ready to tackle another day, the buzz infected me , my decision was made, go for it, it wouldn't be me to drop if I had the slightest chance, my gumption and determination got me this far. Marie dropped me off at the starting line. I readied my bike, made last minute checks and joined the remaining riders for another day of pleasurable agony. The starting line crowd was smaller than yesterday, the outfits were as colorful as the riders were weary, and the weather was PERFECT.. I positioned myself following the 2/3 rule and waited for the start. I heard the crowd ahead start to rumble and we're off.
My legs instinctively began to work, once in the grove they felt as though there was still life inside them. A large POW! veered everyone to the left, a girls tire exploded, too much tire pressure.
The ride to the entrance of Percy Quinn Park is rolling, shady, cool, narrow and tight, no failures and no falls. A couple of miles under our belts and were on the public road, everyone's warmed up and ready to ride. As riders passed, I rang my bell, tandem riders requested 2 rings.
Determined, yet unsuccessful, to hold my pace today, I was passed by old men, children, an armadillo, an abandoned refrigerator and a dog that ran the first 30 miles of the tour.
No skipping "rest stops' today, at stop 1 I started an orange jag that lasted the day,
orange after orange after orange intermingled with raisins, grapes, nuts, and granola bars.
Beautiful weather , beautiful scenery, and rustic dairy farms with black and white cows laying under shade trees chewing a cud and laughing at the bicyclist riding by . The locals had laid out plenty of fresh road kill and camouflaged painted 4 wheelers dotted the landscape. Only one major hill today, a return match with King Kong. The remaining hills were shallow and the elevations trended docile as we struggled southward.
My left thumb grew sore from ringing my bell as a scores of riders passed me with ease and grace, I was not alarmed until a man that I can only describe as a Santa Claus out of uniform and on a bike passed me with a non-chalant smile. Time for a dose of motivation , I prepare my mp3 player for play when Louise pulls on side and we exchange pains, obstacles and determinations. At rest stop three we catch up with her friend George. Louise had rode the tour before but George was a first timer.. It was our duty and obligation to encourage and motivate him to a successful finish. Between us and stop 4 was "King Kong", a mount that is part of the Alp chain that runs through south Mississippi across the Atlantic and into France.
I donned my oxygen mask and preceded up King Kong ,my thighs burning , my knees aching my feet swelling, and my mouth sucking in air like a cheap vacuum cleaner.
In the lowest gear possible I breached the summit then crotched down for the high speed thrill ride to the bottom, what a rush, I removed my high altitude oxygen mask and continued to push and pedal attempting to gain momentum for the next hill. Nice try, three quarters up the next hill momentum has escaped and
back to peddling in lowest gear ,reaching for the top,breathing heavy, longing for home.
Louise, George and I continue to encourage each other, motivation , motivation , motivation.
Lunch stop filled the need to rest and recoup, pasta, peanut butter and jelly sandwich,rehydrate,
sit on something other than a probing bike seat. I gobbled up some grapes, oranges and a
mini chocolate candy , we prepared to get back at it. A teasing downhill then back up again.
Looking ahead we can see the flatlands approaching, a welcome sight. At 50 miles I could feel the endorfins kicking in, legs went to auto pilot, ass settled into a comfortable spot,
eyes became to scan wildly for interesting sights. We had just peaked a small rise when I glanced to the right and there it was nestled in the thick woods on the right, I slowed down long enough to get a mind photo, 6 or 7 feet tall, shaggy brown fur, manlike shape, long arms, and big feet, it turned and disappeared as soon as it saw me. Wow! what was that I yelled.
It was too late, nobody got to see it but me. Oh well, on to the next hill.
By stop 5, George , Louise and myself had shared life stories and were determined to make it all the way. A volunteer told us that many had dropped out and there weren't many behind us.
The support vehicles , motorcycles and equipment trucks continued to whirl around us, encourage us and lead the way home. We continue on to the last rest stop. 10 miles away
yet seemed like hundreds, no more hills, rough roads, support vehicles buzzing around us,
my ass hurting, my left thigh burning, my right knee aching, all resolved by only 20 miles to go.
Last rest stop in a small town, 10 miles to go, ate tons of oranges, grapes, nuts, anything that would give me a few ounces of energy to make it. Quick rest, then onward, we can smell home
now and the intensity and focus magnify. No more talking , no more sightseeing, no more
lamenting. The sun is starting it's path downward and we're headed home. We reach Hammond emotionally quick but the trip through town seemed forever.
Finally the last turn at the SLU Center, a crowd of thousands stand to cheer us across the finish line , microphones shoved on our face, cameras flashing and bands playing as we cruised in to the paddock area. ( well that's how I saw it).
I am now released from the prison of "can I do it again", the chains of "will I last", and the burden of " should I take the risk".
What an experience... Will I do it again ? Who knows.
later
gary
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Thursday, October 05, 2006
ready or not...
The last three weekends I've done 70 miles on Saturday and 50 on Sunday.
I've put some miles on using a heavy old one speed.
I've climbed overpasses over and over to get ready for the hills.
I've put my bike in the shop and and had it close to rebuilt.
I've got a new MP3 player with 240 new songs on it.
I've got a new helmet.
I'm ready as I'll ever be.
Now I just have to hope me and my bike last the distance.
I am wearing my lucky 3 year old tennis shoes, that's a comfort.
Hopefully next week I'll have some pictures whether I make it or not. .
later
gary
I've put some miles on using a heavy old one speed.
I've climbed overpasses over and over to get ready for the hills.
I've put my bike in the shop and and had it close to rebuilt.
I've got a new MP3 player with 240 new songs on it.
I've got a new helmet.
I'm ready as I'll ever be.
Now I just have to hope me and my bike last the distance.
I am wearing my lucky 3 year old tennis shoes, that's a comfort.
Hopefully next week I'll have some pictures whether I make it or not. .
later
gary
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