Pulled a muscle in my back , haven't rode in 3 weeks, coming back in rehab mode.
Did 30 this past weekend, about one fourth where I need to be for the tour. Not many weeks left. I'll have to cram training to get up to speed. By next weekend I expect to be healed and at full bore. Hope it's not too late to catch up. Plenty of miles to ride in a short time...Stretching, sit-ups, and riding. Push,push,push is my new motto.
later
gary
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
How can you appreciate life without contacting the dead now and then ? Life is a precious gift , ask dead people. Life cheating death, but if you're like me you have to brush by it occasionally, not just cheating death but poking it in the eye with a stick, not just taunting but daring Hey ! come and get me if you can . So I take a few risk, some days I feel luckier than others, still young enough to feel invincible, impregnable, impervious, a spartan on a bike. I've visited a few cemeteries on bike; St Louis 1 and 2, St Patricks, Greenwood, Lakelawn, and the most interesting one, the "Washington" on Washington and Prytania and some I don't remember where they were . The videos are from St Louis #1. If you walk around and read the names you can feel them appreciating your visit, trying to get you to stay longer. I used to go to parties in the Iberville Projects, from the balconies you overlook St Louis #1, at night it's a eerie sight, you know their looking back at you. Stay outside the walls at night. So if you get a chance , poke death in the eye with a stick , show him your alive and living to the fullest.Sunday, May 25, 2008
The River Recedes More
The River Recedes, still high though. If your a drift wood collector , nirvana awaits.
Did 60 this weekend and last. About to broach the 100 mile a week level.
Saw some ducks I couldn't recognize, maybe someone (like my son and his duck hunting pals) can identify them. Have a picture of a giant peice of driftwood, I would hate to meet it with the bow of a boat. Things were getting a little boring so I raced a street car , rode between the streetcar and the parked cars on the right while holding the camera, I didn't have a chance,
the streetcar sped by me, but it was exciting, adrenalin rush...(play the movie, click on it).
The temperature is starting to rise, time to think, hydration , hydration, hydration.
later
gary
click on the pics for closeup.
Did 60 this weekend and last. About to broach the 100 mile a week level.
Saw some ducks I couldn't recognize, maybe someone (like my son and his duck hunting pals) can identify them. Have a picture of a giant peice of driftwood, I would hate to meet it with the bow of a boat. Things were getting a little boring so I raced a street car , rode between the streetcar and the parked cars on the right while holding the camera, I didn't have a chance,
the streetcar sped by me, but it was exciting, adrenalin rush...(play the movie, click on it).
The temperature is starting to rise, time to think, hydration , hydration, hydration.
later
gary
click on the pics for closeup.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
The River Recedes
When your not the lead turtle the view never changes. ,
Thats how slow I rode today, that turtle stayed ahead of me.
The River has dropped 3 or 4 feet.
If your a driftwood collector , your time is a coming, drift wood is piled up
along the levee and awaits.
30 miles Saturday and 25 Sunday.
Beat out the rain but not the turtle.
Later
gary
Thats how slow I rode today, that turtle stayed ahead of me.
The River has dropped 3 or 4 feet.
If your a driftwood collector , your time is a coming, drift wood is piled up
along the levee and awaits.
30 miles Saturday and 25 Sunday.
Beat out the rain but not the turtle.
Later
gary
Sunday, April 20, 2008
And the Rivers still higher yet.
Had to work Saturday, did a quick 10 when I got home.
Slept late Sunday, rode to the French Quarter,managed to get in 30 miles.
The lunch smells filled the street, the tourist filled the street, and music filled the street.
The Rivers Still high, 3 or 4 more feet will top the Levee at the River Walk.
That leaves Decateur St way below water level.
It all make me wonder what folks did before there were levees .
later
gary
Slept late Sunday, rode to the French Quarter,managed to get in 30 miles.
The lunch smells filled the street, the tourist filled the street, and music filled the street.
The Rivers Still high, 3 or 4 more feet will top the Levee at the River Walk.
That leaves Decateur St way below water level.
It all make me wonder what folks did before there were levees .
later
gary
Sunday, April 13, 2008
And the River is high
Saturday was gloomy to start but as the day went on it got warmer and sunnier.
The French Quarter Festival was kicking by the time I got there, what a rush.
As the Song goes "fish are jumping and the River is high " , very high , in the quarter it's about 4 feet from the top of the levee, in Destrehan it's at the bottom of the levee. The Lucky Dog man
was working it and the stages were set up . I stopped on the river walk to listen some music
and was almost swept away by the crowd. The quarter was full of locals and tourist and I did my more than usual share of people watching, what a rush. The smells were overwhelming, every food imaginable, tasty but not fullfilling. Managed to get in 30 miles, hybrid tires.
Sunday the gale force winds kept me in check on the northward run to Destrehan along the river, but coming back was a 18 to 20 mph cruise , what a rush. There were 2 spots where the wind seemed of indeterminate direction. It was sunshiny, the catfishermen lined the levee wall and were hauling in 10 and 15 pounders. Chalked up another 30 miles all on fast skinny tires.
60 mile weekend , half of our goal for October 4th. What an adventure.
later
gary
The French Quarter Festival was kicking by the time I got there, what a rush.
As the Song goes "fish are jumping and the River is high " , very high , in the quarter it's about 4 feet from the top of the levee, in Destrehan it's at the bottom of the levee. The Lucky Dog man
was working it and the stages were set up . I stopped on the river walk to listen some music
and was almost swept away by the crowd. The quarter was full of locals and tourist and I did my more than usual share of people watching, what a rush. The smells were overwhelming, every food imaginable, tasty but not fullfilling. Managed to get in 30 miles, hybrid tires.
Sunday the gale force winds kept me in check on the northward run to Destrehan along the river, but coming back was a 18 to 20 mph cruise , what a rush. There were 2 spots where the wind seemed of indeterminate direction. It was sunshiny, the catfishermen lined the levee wall and were hauling in 10 and 15 pounders. Chalked up another 30 miles all on fast skinny tires.
60 mile weekend , half of our goal for October 4th. What an adventure.
later
gary
Remember , click on the pics to enlarge them..
Thursday, April 10, 2008
It's about the bike too.
The weather's been great, riding's been great, life's been great.
My mentor and bike guru Frank has blessed me with a set of performance racing skinny wheels..
Their fast, sleek, yet delicate. I'm averaging about 4 miles an hour faster on them. Even though their called "ROAD WHEELS" they can't jump curbs and pot holes or cruise over glass and sharp rocks. I'm gonna try to use them for the MS tour for the speed.. I still want to train on my hybrid wheels also, so my plan is to ride hybrid's on Saturday in the street and road wheels on Sunday on the River Levee. With the road wheels and a little tailwind I can cruise 16 to 20 mph.
Don't seem so fast until you take a fall at that speed, something usually brakes ( bones) .
So now the only original parts on my Hybrid Trek are the frame, the handle bars and neck,
the front fork and the crank, all else has been changed. These new wheels carry 120 psi as opposed to 80 psi on the hybrids so they have a good roll. This past Christmas my kids gave me a helmet camera, I'll be using it soon , maybe we'll get some clips of me doing a 360, or maybe sliding into a curb, or being sideswiped by a large suv, or dodging lightening bolts in a thunderstorm, or outrunning a mixed breed great dane-pit bull- mastiff -Cujo type dog, or maybe riding through mimes and jugglers in the french quarter, or just enjoying a sunny afternoon touring the city. Each time it's an adventure.....Thanks for the wheels Frank...
Later
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Spring has Sprung.
Spring has sprung and I'm getting ready to get serious.
First rite of spring , walk the Crescent City Classic with Stacy (daughter). We had a great time,
the weather was great , the crowd was great, the start was great, the finish was great and
Tad Gormley Stadium was full to the brim with runners, walkers, baby carriages,
strollers, every shape, size, age and look of person you can imagine was there.
The Bucktown All Star's walked with us a while, great music.
We didn't win this year but who cares, it was fun.
As I write this Marcia Ball's in concert on the TV,, wow inspirational .
I'm celebrating Easter with family tomorrow then we start training for the 150 mile
MS Tour for Cure, this will be my fourth adventure. I'm registered, I have my room reservation, just got a new back wheel, I'm ready to get at it. Countdown to October 4th and 5th. I am sad to report I've lost my training buddy Frank, Frank retired, he still rides but earlier in the day. We'll still get together as often as possible. Enjoy retirement Frank, I miss your company.
Later
gary
Friday, November 16, 2007
MS tour 2007 Day 1
07 MS Tour DAY 1
At 5:00 am the alarm went off and I was pushed out of bed by excitement, apprehension,anticipation and muted fear. This past years riding in preparation for 2 days under the spotlight has culminated into one thought, will I make it or ride in the SAG vehicle. Have I absorbed enough calories ?, is my stamina up to snuff ?, will the bike perform ?, questions that can only be answered these next 2 days. Marie drove me to the starting line, my shirt pockets filled with best wishes, gatorade and doubtful confidence. The starting crowd was familiar from years past, the Elvis team , the Buttwatchers, the Goonpatrol, the Road sharks, and this year my bike mechanic Jonathan ,riding , Eric taking his place at stop 3.Unloaded my bike, pumped up the tires, checked all my gear , donned my numbers and joined the crowd. Now all fears were gone, I was another rider, all reservation disappeared, time to function and I was ready. The starting fireworks go off and I join the legions , about 1000, on 2 days journey, for me an inner journey, none the less a journey. The first few miles most riders are paced by adrenalin, I on the other hand set my pace and stick to it no matter how slow. At mile 1 a rider stops to repair his flat tire, an annual event, there's always a flat in the first turn, I on the other hand allow the crowds to clear the path for me picking up nails, sharp rocks, and glass. I'm blessed with my kind of weather, more warm than cool, slightly overcast, slight breeze out the south. The first 10 miles I bore witness to most of the riders passing me, I became disheartened though when the kid on the tricycle, the old man with his cane mounted on his recumbent and the rider with a full size speaker blaring fight songs mounted on his rear carrier, all passed me with elegant ease. Curses I think to myself,, they'll all fail when we hit the alps, my strategy will prevail. Part 2 of my plan, I pass by the first rest stop, jumped ahead of 200 riders. Onward and onward I pedaled searching my grove, body becoming a machine and functions without thought. From Rest stop 2 to the end the side of the road is spattered with spent riders and broke bikes waiting for a SAG pick up. I count my blessings and ride on . At stop 3 I talk to Eric the Bike tech, not too many flats this year as he aligns a wheel for a rider. I let him know that my bike and I are functioning well, just slow. I gulp the the available grub , grapes , oranges, nuts, fig newtons, and 10k. I keep telling myself, eat before your hungry and drink before your thirsty. Its about 5 miles to lunch when I meet with my old friend King Kong the mountain, big as ever and daring me to scamper up it's side. In my world its an Alp, a Pyrenees, I imagine the top being snow covered and the road lined with spectators cheering us on to the top. I don't take its dare and artfully work my way up using my gears and cunning, never stopping to question the path, just to do it, searching my MP3 player and finding "Born to be Wild" , cranking the volume up to help spur my calves to give that extra effort needed to not stop, as I peak to top the oxygen mask falls out on my bike from the pressure change, I thought for a minute I saw a mountain goat, or maybe its the lack of oxygen playing tricks with my mind. I went into a daze momentarily and pictured myself on the red Western Flyer of my childhood, my right pant leg rolled up, my arms pulling back on the extra wide handle bars, pushing that one gear to it's max.As I crested I began to regain consciousness and looking down reved up the adrenalin.The down side gave me the rest I needed, I coasted for about a mile before having to pedal again. 32 miles an hour gets scary on just 2 wheels.Lunch break, whilst I chew on a peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich, my mind has done complete turnaround, I know I'll make it , maybe slow but I'll make it. Now I can enjoy the ride, fresh air, picturesque scenery, the smell of dairy's and not a milk smell , the pastures of cattle and horses, the llama farm, the emu farm , an occasional goat and here comes another hill. Hill after hill after hill, after hill, my thighs feel the effort and develop that slow constant burning. I am undaunted and tackle each as if I were cresting Mount Everest. Rest stop 5, take time to checkout equipment, spend an little time recuperating , load up on food and drink, decide to crank it up a bit, I'm feeling good, I started down a desolate area, very wooded, big shoulders and shallow hills. Suddenly my nose twitched and picked up a foul smell.. As I rode on it became prevalent and more foul, 2 young men come up from behind, I turn to the first one and remark , "smell that?, "what?" he says, "that stench, you don't smell it ?,", "What is that", he yells to his partner and me. My attention is drawn to the right , my eyes pick up a shadow moving in the woods, "what was that!" I thought, tall, slow, and stinky. We approached a turn then I recognized the area, its' where last years "Big Foot" sighting took place. I grabbed my camera ready to shoot, the shadow's gone, I dare not stop, not that curious, I snapped some pictures of footprints on the shoulder ( see photo section part 3 ) . The 2 young men and I moved on to the next hill and agreed to act like nothing happened, who'd believe us anyway.Next rest stop, number 6, last stop , I can smell the finish line, I'm confident, relaxed, enjoying the break, drinking, eating, joking, chit chatting with the volunteer workers, I've kicked ass even though according to the volunteers there's only about 10 riders behind me, not counting the hundreds that have dropped out. Crossing the interstate signaled me about 5 miles left, time to pour it on and finish this puppy in eight and a half hours. The woods get deeper , the hills are smaller , the entrance to the park is in sight and I'm pedaling for all I have. I approach the finish line and the crowds are encouraging me , probably looked like I needed help .Turned in my bike , found Marie and don't think I've ever felt this good after the first day,looking forward to tomorrow with aspirations of doing even better.Time to eat plenty, drink plenty and rest. .
At 5:00 am the alarm went off and I was pushed out of bed by excitement, apprehension,anticipation and muted fear. This past years riding in preparation for 2 days under the spotlight has culminated into one thought, will I make it or ride in the SAG vehicle. Have I absorbed enough calories ?, is my stamina up to snuff ?, will the bike perform ?, questions that can only be answered these next 2 days. Marie drove me to the starting line, my shirt pockets filled with best wishes, gatorade and doubtful confidence. The starting crowd was familiar from years past, the Elvis team , the Buttwatchers, the Goonpatrol, the Road sharks, and this year my bike mechanic Jonathan ,riding , Eric taking his place at stop 3.Unloaded my bike, pumped up the tires, checked all my gear , donned my numbers and joined the crowd. Now all fears were gone, I was another rider, all reservation disappeared, time to function and I was ready. The starting fireworks go off and I join the legions , about 1000, on 2 days journey, for me an inner journey, none the less a journey. The first few miles most riders are paced by adrenalin, I on the other hand set my pace and stick to it no matter how slow. At mile 1 a rider stops to repair his flat tire, an annual event, there's always a flat in the first turn, I on the other hand allow the crowds to clear the path for me picking up nails, sharp rocks, and glass. I'm blessed with my kind of weather, more warm than cool, slightly overcast, slight breeze out the south. The first 10 miles I bore witness to most of the riders passing me, I became disheartened though when the kid on the tricycle, the old man with his cane mounted on his recumbent and the rider with a full size speaker blaring fight songs mounted on his rear carrier, all passed me with elegant ease. Curses I think to myself,, they'll all fail when we hit the alps, my strategy will prevail. Part 2 of my plan, I pass by the first rest stop, jumped ahead of 200 riders. Onward and onward I pedaled searching my grove, body becoming a machine and functions without thought. From Rest stop 2 to the end the side of the road is spattered with spent riders and broke bikes waiting for a SAG pick up. I count my blessings and ride on . At stop 3 I talk to Eric the Bike tech, not too many flats this year as he aligns a wheel for a rider. I let him know that my bike and I are functioning well, just slow. I gulp the the available grub , grapes , oranges, nuts, fig newtons, and 10k. I keep telling myself, eat before your hungry and drink before your thirsty. Its about 5 miles to lunch when I meet with my old friend King Kong the mountain, big as ever and daring me to scamper up it's side. In my world its an Alp, a Pyrenees, I imagine the top being snow covered and the road lined with spectators cheering us on to the top. I don't take its dare and artfully work my way up using my gears and cunning, never stopping to question the path, just to do it, searching my MP3 player and finding "Born to be Wild" , cranking the volume up to help spur my calves to give that extra effort needed to not stop, as I peak to top the oxygen mask falls out on my bike from the pressure change, I thought for a minute I saw a mountain goat, or maybe its the lack of oxygen playing tricks with my mind. I went into a daze momentarily and pictured myself on the red Western Flyer of my childhood, my right pant leg rolled up, my arms pulling back on the extra wide handle bars, pushing that one gear to it's max.As I crested I began to regain consciousness and looking down reved up the adrenalin.The down side gave me the rest I needed, I coasted for about a mile before having to pedal again. 32 miles an hour gets scary on just 2 wheels.Lunch break, whilst I chew on a peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich, my mind has done complete turnaround, I know I'll make it , maybe slow but I'll make it. Now I can enjoy the ride, fresh air, picturesque scenery, the smell of dairy's and not a milk smell , the pastures of cattle and horses, the llama farm, the emu farm , an occasional goat and here comes another hill. Hill after hill after hill, after hill, my thighs feel the effort and develop that slow constant burning. I am undaunted and tackle each as if I were cresting Mount Everest. Rest stop 5, take time to checkout equipment, spend an little time recuperating , load up on food and drink, decide to crank it up a bit, I'm feeling good, I started down a desolate area, very wooded, big shoulders and shallow hills. Suddenly my nose twitched and picked up a foul smell.. As I rode on it became prevalent and more foul, 2 young men come up from behind, I turn to the first one and remark , "smell that?, "what?" he says, "that stench, you don't smell it ?,", "What is that", he yells to his partner and me. My attention is drawn to the right , my eyes pick up a shadow moving in the woods, "what was that!" I thought, tall, slow, and stinky. We approached a turn then I recognized the area, its' where last years "Big Foot" sighting took place. I grabbed my camera ready to shoot, the shadow's gone, I dare not stop, not that curious, I snapped some pictures of footprints on the shoulder ( see photo section part 3 ) . The 2 young men and I moved on to the next hill and agreed to act like nothing happened, who'd believe us anyway.Next rest stop, number 6, last stop , I can smell the finish line, I'm confident, relaxed, enjoying the break, drinking, eating, joking, chit chatting with the volunteer workers, I've kicked ass even though according to the volunteers there's only about 10 riders behind me, not counting the hundreds that have dropped out. Crossing the interstate signaled me about 5 miles left, time to pour it on and finish this puppy in eight and a half hours. The woods get deeper , the hills are smaller , the entrance to the park is in sight and I'm pedaling for all I have. I approach the finish line and the crowds are encouraging me , probably looked like I needed help .Turned in my bike , found Marie and don't think I've ever felt this good after the first day,looking forward to tomorrow with aspirations of doing even better.Time to eat plenty, drink plenty and rest. .
Thursday, November 15, 2007
MS Tour 2007 day 2
Day 2.
Woke up feeling great, had a Nutrigran bar breakfast, hurried to the starting line.
Retrieved my bike , filled my water, and had my tires pumped up . I was early, but it's never early enough. Making my way to the starting line I notice the numbers of riders has diminished
and the remaining crew are the "in shape" serious riders. I'm honored to be in this crowd no matter how slow. I move toward the front to get a good spot to start from, I run into Jonathan my bike mechanic, he's ready, he's rested and pumped up. 8:00 AM sharp, the gun goes off,
I start in the first third, feeling good, I stay with the crowd out the Park, about 2 miles, then
tapered off a bit for the first set of hills, after that the road flattens out for a while, it was then
started overtaking riders, not sure why, I was pacing about 15 miles per hour, feeling good and developing ideas that didn't make sense. I stopped at the first stop, grabbed some water and
went on, feeling better and better mile by mile, Day 2 the hills are in the beginning and wane as we near the finish. My legs pumping and pumping relentlessly, feeling no fatigue, no failure I started pushing harder and harder faster and faster. Stop 2 , not stopping I have water and food in my back pocket. I seem to be riding with the elite speedsters, we're averaging 20 miles per hour, hill or no hill, it's like I'm in a Alfred Hitchcock movie.. Suddenly I'm going faster, 30 miles an hour, I think I'm in the front of the pack, leading the breakaway, way ahead of the peleton, how can this be, is it a "dream?", some "magic beans?" I found yesterday, a "genie?" in my water bottle or has "Big Foot?" from yesterday given me talent and skills I didn't have.
Seeing the heat rising off my tires I stop at stop 3 to have equipment checked out by Eric.
He's in disbelief, my tires are worn and smoking from the heat , he hurries and throws on
a set of tires while I refill my water and food. Eric checks out the entire bike and gives me an OK to push it. He tells me I'm near the front but I take it as a joke . Not a lot of riders at this stop, I must be in between groups. I jump back on the road, onto lunch, noting the lack of riders around me, but then being in the rear usually I'm alone. I approach King Kong Hill and scurry up without even changing gears, I shoot down the other side at about 50 mile per hour.
What's going on . No one is passing me. Why?
I cruise into the lunch stop , only a handful of riders there , no one's eating much lunch just a bite and on their way, I follow suite, grab a bite and on my way. I'm now averaging 35 miles per hour, I'm passing skinny riders on skinny bikes. There's Jonathan up ahead, as I pass him
he starts to say ,"hey Mr Gary", but I'm to far gone to reply, he's just a outline in my rear view mirror. I've got 2 waters on my bike and 2 in my shirt pocket, no need to stop anymore.
I pass a few more riders then see something blue coming into view up ahead. could it be, yes it's the lead motorcycle, I get alongside and start to pass, he accelerates to keep ahead of me and we're off to the finish. Passing up stops 5 and 6 put me on the home stretch, the hills are behind me now and I approach Hammond. With a personal escort I zipped through town and approached the finish line in disbelief, I was first in, it's not a race so no one wins,
but someone is first in , it was me. The crowd cheered, camera's flashed, congrats everywhere .
Next year I'm riding again, thinking of a team, Elvis, Elmer Fudd, Miles Standish, and Ravi Shankar.
thanks for your support.....
later
gary
Woke up feeling great, had a Nutrigran bar breakfast, hurried to the starting line.
Retrieved my bike , filled my water, and had my tires pumped up . I was early, but it's never early enough. Making my way to the starting line I notice the numbers of riders has diminished
and the remaining crew are the "in shape" serious riders. I'm honored to be in this crowd no matter how slow. I move toward the front to get a good spot to start from, I run into Jonathan my bike mechanic, he's ready, he's rested and pumped up. 8:00 AM sharp, the gun goes off,
I start in the first third, feeling good, I stay with the crowd out the Park, about 2 miles, then
tapered off a bit for the first set of hills, after that the road flattens out for a while, it was then
started overtaking riders, not sure why, I was pacing about 15 miles per hour, feeling good and developing ideas that didn't make sense. I stopped at the first stop, grabbed some water and
went on, feeling better and better mile by mile, Day 2 the hills are in the beginning and wane as we near the finish. My legs pumping and pumping relentlessly, feeling no fatigue, no failure I started pushing harder and harder faster and faster. Stop 2 , not stopping I have water and food in my back pocket. I seem to be riding with the elite speedsters, we're averaging 20 miles per hour, hill or no hill, it's like I'm in a Alfred Hitchcock movie.. Suddenly I'm going faster, 30 miles an hour, I think I'm in the front of the pack, leading the breakaway, way ahead of the peleton, how can this be, is it a "dream?", some "magic beans?" I found yesterday, a "genie?" in my water bottle or has "Big Foot?" from yesterday given me talent and skills I didn't have.
Seeing the heat rising off my tires I stop at stop 3 to have equipment checked out by Eric.
He's in disbelief, my tires are worn and smoking from the heat , he hurries and throws on
a set of tires while I refill my water and food. Eric checks out the entire bike and gives me an OK to push it. He tells me I'm near the front but I take it as a joke . Not a lot of riders at this stop, I must be in between groups. I jump back on the road, onto lunch, noting the lack of riders around me, but then being in the rear usually I'm alone. I approach King Kong Hill and scurry up without even changing gears, I shoot down the other side at about 50 mile per hour.
What's going on . No one is passing me. Why?
I cruise into the lunch stop , only a handful of riders there , no one's eating much lunch just a bite and on their way, I follow suite, grab a bite and on my way. I'm now averaging 35 miles per hour, I'm passing skinny riders on skinny bikes. There's Jonathan up ahead, as I pass him
he starts to say ,"hey Mr Gary", but I'm to far gone to reply, he's just a outline in my rear view mirror. I've got 2 waters on my bike and 2 in my shirt pocket, no need to stop anymore.
I pass a few more riders then see something blue coming into view up ahead. could it be, yes it's the lead motorcycle, I get alongside and start to pass, he accelerates to keep ahead of me and we're off to the finish. Passing up stops 5 and 6 put me on the home stretch, the hills are behind me now and I approach Hammond. With a personal escort I zipped through town and approached the finish line in disbelief, I was first in, it's not a race so no one wins,
but someone is first in , it was me. The crowd cheered, camera's flashed, congrats everywhere .
Next year I'm riding again, thinking of a team, Elvis, Elmer Fudd, Miles Standish, and Ravi Shankar.
thanks for your support.....
later
gary
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