MS Tour 2018,,, Another adventure..
Day 1, 75 of 150
miles.
Gary
Gauthier
Day
starts with a drive to Hammond, Saturday morning Oct 6th. Tour starts at 8:00 am, plan; be there at 7:00 am, an hour to unload, install sunglasses,
sunscreen, helmet, fill pockets with camera, ID, extra Gatorade, half peanut butter and jelly on raisin bread sandwiches,
whilst I inhale a banana, check air
pressure in tires, spray extra oil on chain, cruise around the parking lot,
make sure I’m ready to ride. The lineup behind the big red arch balloon grows
incrementally as start time draws near, so does anticipation. Walking through
the riders I’m greeted by familiar faces, “hellos”, “how you beens”, ” have a
good rides”, stop to chat with friends about the year, find a suitable slot where
I’m designated, proudly stand next to my steed, raise my head and heart for the
National Anthem, made me feel special, like I was about to mount a stake
bannering a US flag on the moons surface, the peak of Mount Everest, or the deepest
ocean floor. No earbuds this year so all
my motivational music is played back by my imagination, in my mind, it holds
about 1,800 songs, we start today with “Nothing Else Matters”,(Metallica), cause right now this minute,
nothing else matters. My generous supporters raised 1,719.00 this year and now
I fulfill my part with a 150 mile ride. I ride 75 miles every other day, regularly,
but my regularly doesn’t include hills, hills and more hills. The start horn blows, riders sit partially on
seats pushing to get started in the crowd till there’s room and speed to mount
and pedal. We come out the parking lot on to the road, well-wishers cheering,
motorcycles and police encouraging a good start, to the traffic light then
left, north, away we go. Everyone’s fresh, speed is good, too good, any long
distance feat must be tempered with discipline, pace dictates longevity,
sometimes it’s important to let the enthusiast go, set, follow and adhere to
your pace assuring a finish on the bike not in a SAG truck. Stops are about
every 10 miles, it doesn’t take long to reach the first one, I skip it, having
extra drink, I get to pass all the enthusiast finding I’ve quickly moved up in
first 600 riders, for a few minutes. Next song in my head is, “When I’m gone”, (Three
Doors Down), kicking. Second 10 miles
break is where everyone passes me, yes, everyone, I have many 10 second chats, the dew has worn
off, my legs have become mechanical, my ass has found its place on the seat,
all is good, but not in a groove yet, “Cumbersome”,(Seven Mary Three), railing
in my head. I feel the altitude changing, the clouds get nearer, I start to
count the road kill, Snakes, Opossums, Raccoons, Owls, Hawks, Turtles, Frogs,
Duck Billed Platypus, Tiger Sharks, Moose, Big Foots, Chubracabras, Mullets,
Bad Wigs, Hush Puppy Loafers and of course Silver Jackets with Dragons Painted
on the back…Next song, “What if I’d Been the One to Say Goodbye”, (38
Special). 2nd Rest Stop, tires
have finally warmed up, Hwy 16, pee break (in the colorful Porta Potty, clean,
worthy, private), fill drink bottles with whatever has a color, shove a bag of
mini Oreos in my back pocket, eat a fig bar, shoot some M&M’s, 2 cookies,
and a swig of pickle juice, back to the road, next song, “Fire on the Mountain”,
(Marshall Tucker), and here they come, at first subtle little humps evolving
ever so slightly you’d not notice the monsters ahead. A few miles down the
road, I’m in a grove, nothing else matters, there’s no pain, just pleasure,
eyes absorb scenery, horse farms, ponds, zebra colored mules, forests, rivers,
wide open spaces, occasionally another rider passes me with regards, I’m in my
own world, “Feel it Still”, (Portugal the Man), my heads starting to bob,
getting close to that feeling. I hear a voice behind me yelling “come back”,
oops!, missed a turn again, couldn’t stop thanking the man that caught me, but
when you’re in a groove, nothing else matters. New Song “Rapture”(Blondie). Hills growing higher, next stop is lunch,
long break, the hill before lunch is horrendous and only a preview of things to
come. Starting to ride, “even”, as other
riders get tired, it’s a tortoise and a hare thing, having some great
conversations, making new friends, many on teams that have become separated,
trying to give confidence to some that
feel this mountain is too high to climb, one young lady was struggling,
walking, riding, walking but not giving up, she was inspirational. There it is, the first big hill, daunting, I
start dropping gears, spinning, spinning, trying to maintain momentum, as I
climb, speed escapes, struggle replaces effort, harder and harder to pedal,
from a flat road cruise of 18 miles per hour to a crunching 6 miles per hour,
approaching the crest, can’t stop, stopping is failure, haven’t been stopped by
a hill in 13 years, not going to start now, in my lowest gear, hit the peak,
wow! ,now quickly shift up 22 speeds, downhill, could coast, no, we pedal down,
29 miles per hour, from this point on when you defeat a hill, another lies
ahead, try to carry momentum from one to the other. Lunch, whole wheat wraps, PBJ’s, spiked
mashed potatoes, drinks, cookies, candy, pickle juice, BUT, we have to ride,
can’t over eat, YET, we need calories to finish the ride, so, it’s PBJ
sandwich, candies, cookies, banana, oranges, quick calories. I did eat a little spiked mashed potatoes,
they be delicious. It’s here I ran into old friend Patrick, he’s looking good,
hadn’t seen him since 2016 Tour, there was no 2017 because of a Hurricane, I’d
like to try to outrun a Hurricane, but, a false boast, we chatted and promised
to spend some ride together. I’ve been talking off and on today to a friend
named Tony, introduced myself, we exchanged life stories in about 10 minutes
and promised also to spend some ride time together. Every year I’ve met nice
friendly people on the Tour and always make some new friends from all over and
many walks of life, if I couldn’t ride for some reason I’d try to walk it. I
notice the back of a supply truck open and a young lady in a yellow top
unloading supplies, yes it’s Cristina Giambrone, master organizer of the Tour,
not just a pretty face that puts on the best ride in the south, she unloads
trucks, or whatever else needs to be done. Pee break, tackle the next hill, not
as big as the first but a struggle just the same. Needed a song to get me going,
quick, something steady, then bobbing, what else but,“Twilight Zone”,(Golden
Earring), got my head bobbing, just think if I had a player with buds. Rejuvenated,
I push the throttle up a smidgen, got a great cruise going, Patrick is way
ahead of me, Tony and I jockeying back and forth, I’m riding with his gang,
keeping up, kind of, It’s a flow up and down with the hills, inconsistent, yet
intermittently aggressive, 5 miles since lunch stop , here it comes, endorphins
flowing, serotonin sparking between my brain cells, that obsessed feeling, it’s
a good thing, no pain, no hurt, just euphoria, next song, “ Walk This Way”,
(Aerosmith), now that will get anybody’s
head bobbing, legs kicking and lips syncing. Just as I was preparing to look to
the sky and thank God I was here to live this beautiful moment, I was slammed
in the chest by something powerful,
hairy, and intended, my forward motion stopped, hurling backwards in a
flip I lost all sense of presence, momentum
ceased, balance and direction were nowhere to be found, I did feel my back slam
the asphalt, thanks to my helmet, a skull was saved, my sight returned just in
time to see a juvenile (about 400 pounds) Big Foot, his eyes focused on mine,
he had a animalistic grin that seemed to give an heir of humanity, I could only
look like fear condensed, I no longer felt any pain or senses, only that
feeling you get when you say to yourself, “this is it “, “I’m done”, but today
was not to be my day, the 7 foot behemoth grabbed my camera, kicked my bike out
his way and sundered into the edge of the wood line, no longer threatened I was
suddenly brave and courageous, I stood, struck a pose of power and strength,
gave a fearless stare, in return the giant snapped a picture of me, “ with my
camera”, raised his head and began to laugh like he heard a Ron White joke. It’s
not the first time a mythological creature took my camera, last year a school
of Mermaids snatched my waterproof Nikon out my hands as I reached over the
gunnel of a 24 foot laser, (sailboat), to shoot a picture of them, they swam under the water taking pictures of
each other with my camera, pointing and laughing at me the whole time, it was
important that that situation not be repeated, how much humiliation can a human
take. I looked up and down the highway for help, no bikes, no cars, no trucks,
no motorcycles, maybe I made a wrong turn or maybe they’re all in on it, left
me here to the mercy of the Big Foots, it’s a plot, in my mind the riders and
the Big Foots were gathered in a field laughing till their sides split, whoa,
there goes my imagination , stop, a flash in the woods catches my attention,
their using the flash in the deep dark woods, they’ll run my battery down, now
I’m pissed, I walked like John Wayne towards the woods but I’m stopped abruptly
by a howl that echoed for miles, then decided that a camera was just a camera,
I’ll get another one. Returning to my bike, a few things were bent and twisted
but overall it was in shape to continue the tour. Big swig of Gatorade, mount
my steed like a cavalryman in a Randolph Scott Movie, and push forward. Caught
up with a few riders, we chatted, met Robert, very nice man, great rider, we
tagged along a while, didn’t mention anything about Big Foot, people shun you
when something like that happens to you, or maybe it’s just when you tell them
about? The hill in front of us is enormous, I drop down some gears and pick up
the cadence, Robert seemed to climb up with ease, I think he was toting less
weight than I, body and bike, I’m pedaling like a 4 year old on a Big Wheel,
he’s talking and cruising. Time for some music, inside head speakers only,
“Earth, Wind and Fire”, (Fantasy), smooth, kicking, rhythmic, perfect. Peak the
hill and don’t just coast down the leeward side, pedal my legs off, 28 miles an
hour at the bottom, the elusive 30 mph, can’t get it, few small hills, then
next rest stop. Pitt stop, beautiful yellow porta potty, when you have to go,
they are beautiful, run into Patrick, and Tony and Robert, quick snack, fill
bottles, some pickle juice, M&M’s, Fig Bars, Chip Ahoy’s , Oreo’s, a
banana, orange wedges, food essential to energy and good health. Cristina was
there unloading a truck, this lady don’t stop. Sometimes I have to wonder about
this endorphin thing, I was just passed by Captain Kangaroo and Mr. Green Jeans
being chased by Dancing Bear. Back to
riding, next song, “Paradise beneath the Dash Board Lights”, (Meatloaf), that
should keep my imagination in check for a while, I know all the words, did a
Karaoke in Chicago with a lady from New York, we kicked it. The whole story is
in the last line. Godzilla ahead, a hill with a name, nosebleeds are common,
you have to duck so airliners miss you, my 3 amigos and I (they motivated me),
scurried up this one and flew down the other side, there is strength in
numbers, as we flattened out on a prairie, or it seemed, we run alongside the
lady struggling that we met earlier that was having a hard time, but now she’s
ahead of us, wow, she’s impressive. Next song, “Isabella”, (Hendrix), kicking
beat, perfect for riding, Vietnam song, ”Soon I’ll be holding you instead of
this machine gun”. Beautiful country side, great conversations, Tony, Robert
and Patrick , and whoever else will listen to me, 2 ladies pull alongside me,
they heard it earlier, wanted me to blow my ouaga horn, how do you spell ouaga?, it’s a novelty that can help to notify
someone your approaching. Tony and I discussed our self-inflicted bike repairs,
Patrick and Robert were set. Patrick rides a yellow Cannondale, Robert a new
Teal Bianchi, Tony and I ride Treks. Here
comes another one, it’s Yogi Bear and Boo Boo chased by Huckleberry Hound and
Rin Tin Tin. Need a new song, “Tyrone Davis“,(Baby can I change my Mind),
perfect cadence for my speed. Endorphins are raging today, another hill approaches, not too high but
very fast, crested and felt like I was
going to take flight, or maybe that was the endorphins, got some great speed
going, for me that is , I’m in a groove, body is like a machine, I didn’t say
well oiled, just a machine, loving the comradery, the scenery, the
accomplishment, the helping new riders, and strugglers with motivation, we’re
all in this together, I must say and hear “you can do it “ a thousand times.
Approaching the last rest stop, kind of scary, after this it’s finish line. Pee
break, more nutrition, cookies, candy, bananas, oranges, pickles and juice,
found a mini bag of M&M’s, leaving this stop is a pleasure, it’s on a peak
and downhill out the gate, looking around for my friends, Robert, Patrick and
Tony, don’t see them, must have left already, I’m off. So far we’ve went
through Tickfaw, Independence, Osaka, and now we ride through Magnolia, a
special town to me, one of my best
friends,”Wayne”, is from there, and he has regaled many tales of Magnolia,
there is a traffic light, and a couple of stop signs, beautiful town with a
real Southern flavor, most of the major
intersections a police person directs traffic and makes sure we’re safely
through, I honk my ouaga horn at them, they love it. Need a new song,
“Nevermind”, (Nervana), now that’s kicking ,legs are turning, tackling the next
hill out of Magnolia, riding with some new groups, a few teams came by and I
jumped in with them, wonder where my 3 amigos are? 7 miles to finish, we come
out the woods, entering a main highway, cars and trucks passing fast, when a
big truck passes you feel the pressure change, the dirt and tiny pebbles hit your
legs, we do have a big shoulder to ride on, reaching a few miles of flat road I
stretch it out, but not fast enough to stop Billy Gibbons of “ZZ Top” pass me
up playing guitar, singing , “Cheap Sunglasses”, and not missing a stroke, oh, oh, there’s
those endorphins again, I recognized him because of the beard. I’m moving, I’m grooving, I’m kicking, I’m
crossing I-55, I’m catching that smell, a finish line reeks a fragrance like no
other, what a motivator, it draws you, beckons you, like the “Sirens” of Sirenum,
yet I”ll not put wax in my ears like Odysseus’s crew, nor be lashed to the mast
to resist the call, I want to be drawn, tethered and taken in, for the lust of
finishing is my nirvana, a feeling like none can replicate, you must “be it” to
“feel it”. Time for an appropriate song,
“ Lunatic Fringe”, (Red Rider), quickly followed by “I can’t drive 55”, (Van
Halen). Getting close to the turn into
Percy Quinn Park, I’m about 2 miles out, fields on the left of me woods on the
right, I’m flying, nothing to save for now, suddenly, and I mean suddenly, I
see 3 bikes parked on the shoulder, one is familiar, looked like Tony’s bike, I
slow down, maybe someone is hurt, maybe something is happening in the woods, I
stop to investigate, parking my bike next to theirs, I step towards the wooded
area, my eyes flinch from a flash, what can be going on?, looking closer into
the woods I see my three riding companions, shoulder to shoulder, smiling as a
juvenile Big Foot takes pictures of them with my camera, their posing, and
their all laughing, can’t believe my eyes, my camera, my friends, a Big Foot. I
jump on my bike, scurry toward the finish line, into the Park roller coaster,
the entrance is about 6 small steep hills like a roller coaster, very fast, has
speed bumps for cars, must be attentive, shifting gears, up and down, up and
down, I hear the crowd, I see the big balloon finish line, the crowd is
cheering, I’m 30 feet away and I hear crunk, crank spins freely, broken chain, not
to miss the moment, I grab the chain, jump on the seat and roll myself in for
an official finish. Called by the announcer made me official, Cristina was at
the finish, she says, “ Gary would you
like me to take your picture crossing the finish with your camera”, I explained,
“I have no camera, Big Foot guy has it”, she replies, “what’s that around your
neck”, I look down, it’s my camera, then Patrick walks up, Tony and Robert
follow, all I could say was, “yes please Cristina”, and “hi guys, how was the
ride, let me get a picture of you guy’s”, I hold up the camera, and on the
screen is a Big Foot selfie he left me. WOW! …End of Day one Whew !
75
miles of 150 miles
Gary
Gauthier © 2019
MS Tour 2018
Day 2… Another 75 miles
The morning is brisk, starting line is thin of
riders, breakfast is eggs, yogurt, grits, sausage, I nibbled for calories only, joined the
starting line, narrow, winding, nestled in trees, found a spot on the, safer to ride, right
side, short quick hills with speed bumps coming out the park are treacherous, on the
right you allow speeders to pass without being caught in the middle having to
negotiate left and right on a downhill that’s very fast with limited traction. Surrounded
by colorful jerseys, muscular legs, expensive cycles, odd shaped helmets,
anticipation, excitement, all intermingled with laughing, joking, teasing,
bragging, sandbagging, and humble me. Standing alongside my steed, I’m joined
by Patrick, I’m pleasantly surprised by a visit from the charming Lisa Mayeaux,
the MS Office staff mainstay, she’s
helped me many times, we exchange pleasantries just as the announcer clicks on
the mike to let us know we’re about to start.
Groups of about 20 take off, a hundred yard gap lessens the hazards of
the narrow park exit, Patrick and I climb on our saddles and push off till our
section is called to the starting line. Many riders, like myself, are wearing our
new pretty 2018 MS Jerseys, very sharp looking, scientific research shows if
you’re looking cool and fast you usually are, well at least cool. Our group
taxis to the starting balloon, the announcer gives us a ready, set, go, and
we’re off, it’s a fast start and you must keep up or get fouled, the roller
coaster will consume you, hordes of riders will use you for a speed bump, I
continue with my stay to the right strategy until I’m confronted by riders on
the right slower than I, hard to conceive, but I carefully and with a plethora
of head turning, navigate around them. 6 or 8 hills and I see the daylight of
the main highway, taking the short inside turn to the road, roomier, easier, settling
on a pace, into the sun laying it’s warmth and promise on me, time for some
music, “The Boys are Back in town” (Thin Lizzy), it’s kicking it, time to ride.
I blow my ouga horn a few times,
creating inspiration for riders and wake up the Big Foots. Patrick laughs, says he getting one for next
year. First 5 miles are relatively flat and easy, then comes the big climbs we
finished on yesterday, being fresh eases the crush, less riders eases the early
ride congestion, Patrick and I catch Robert, he’s cruising, smooth rider, we
chat, climbing the first big hill, then flashing down the leeward, it’s a rush
slapping the bottom over 20 mph, then another climb, downshift, spin, spin,
spin, then down again, some seem to reach the clouds others are nuisances, we
talk about the Tour De France, climbing the Alps, can it be tougher than
Mississippi ?. New song, “Juke Box Hero” (Kinks), a head bopper. Riding along side and talking to a lady from
St Francisville, she was at home in the hills, moving well , we chatted and she
was gone, I again realized my speed enabled me to meet and talk to many riders
since most pass me at some time or another. Tony pulls alongside, he’s been
with his team and like me jumps ahead and falls back, more interested in loving
the ride than winning the tour, he informs me a deer crossed the rollercoaster
road at the start behind us and ran into a lady rider, the deer escaped and the
lady was shook up but got back on her bike and carried on, from the description I believe she was the 70
year old rider I met yesterday on a specially built bike her son made, she
seemed tough then , today she proved it. Music, something that will pick up my
pace, “The Spirit of the Radio” (Rush). First rest stop, quickie, cookies, fill
drink bottle, M&M’s, pee, and I’m gone, climbing a hill out the gate, whew!
they never end. Fields of hay, ponds of
catfish, horses, cattle, woodlands, roadkill, blacktop, cement, more blacktop,
more cement, more music, since it’s Sunday, “Jesus is Just All right” (Doobie
Brothers). Ten More miles, another rest stop, hung a few minutes at this one,
cookies for me and my pocket, pickle juice, banana, orange slices, a colored
drink of unknown origin, didn’t matter, onward to the next hill, found Robert,
Tony, and Patrick, we cruised, we chatted about cycling things like, the
history of the middle east, the future of Asian economics, Lamborghini verses Bugatti,
cycling things. Through our conversations I still had to have music, it
fundamental to riding, so it’s finally time for some; “Crazy Train”, (Ozzy
Osbourne). We climbed a Godzilla hill, I lost my comrades on the downside, feeling
endorphin high, listening to Ozzy at the same time is dangerous enough, add
some “Sandman” (Metallica) to it and it’s a “Space Lord” (Monster Madness)
moment, I knew this because I was just passed by Richard Nixon in a dark blue
suit, a red helmet, and white sneakers on a yellow Campagnolo
road bike being chased by Elmer Fudd in a black low rider sedan about 25 feet
long blowing the horn wanting to pass. I shook my head, blinked my eyes,
thanked God it all went away, not that it’s still not in my head, but out of my
conscience. Lunch break, catch up with Patrick, Robert, and Tony, I don’t
mention any sighting’s to them, I’m sure they have their own endorphin moments.
Lunch break is 3 miles off, steady, rhythmic, scenery watching, chatting, we
ride in together, park out steeds, no one ever removes their helmets, they
become part of you, like a cowboy never takes his boots off, most hardcore
cyclist have in their wills to be buried with helmet and a water bottle of
Gatorade. Delicious chicken wrap, all nutrition, I put a PBJ in my back pocket
just in case, Mini Oreo’s , Mini Kit Kats, half a banana, 2 orange wedges,
M&M’s for that instant kick, some cold blue stuff in drink bottles, looked
around for my compadres, must have left, I saunter onto the road, it’s a climb
right off, a long climb, not too steep, I drop down to 5th and start
my spinning, it’s all good, cresting the summit I shift up to 24th ,
fearlessly flying down the lee side, my long flowing hair flapping in the wind
from under the back of my helmet, what a high ( it’s an endorphin thing). Here it comes, “Flirting with Disaster”,
(Molly Hatchet) how apropos. Haven’t seen my riding partners in a while, guess they’re
at the next rest stop. Crossing another river, when I’m on a training ride I like
to stop and look into Rivers, very relaxing, on the tour you just cross it and
move on, as I dismount the bridge I notice 3 bikes parked just off the highway
at the edge of the woods, slowing down I see tour numbers on them, I hope no
one is hurt, think I’ll stop and see if
someone needs help, stopping I quickly knock down my kickstand, parking next to
the bikes, looks like Patrick’s yellow Cannondale, Roberts Teal Bianchi, and Tony’s
Black Trek, I see a path alongside the
river leading into the woods, I keep my helmet on for protection, I’m quiet, I follow
the worn dirt path next to the river
that veers into the woods, at that point I slow down, proceed cautiously,
scanning, listening, like Daniel Boone sneaking up on a bear, beginning to hear
cries of terror as I near a circular opening, I crotch down to crawl in closer,
finally my only option to be stealth is to belly crawl, from behind a water oak
wide enough to cover me, I see the scene of horror, they’ve been captured by a
Chubracabra, a blood sucking beast, horns, fangs, leathery winds, clawed paws,
drool slinging out its mouth, it must have drew them in with its mind control
powers, then with hypnotic stares weakened them then tied them to trees waiting
their turn to drained of blood, life and spirit. I’d have no such thing, first
I had to protect myself, reaching for my chapstick, I broke off a couple of ¼ inch pieces, stuffed them in my ears to stop any audio
control, started playing “Paranoia”,(Black Sabbath) in my head, focused my eyes
and mind on success with a blind intensity to thwart any attempts to control
me. I continued to belly crawl around
the back side of their bondage, watching and praying the creature doesn’t sense
me, getting behind Tony I reach to my right back cycling jersey pocket, pull
out my trusty cycling multi-tool, find the blade edge cut his bonds telling him
to remain still until everyone is freed, I perform the same on Patrick and
Robert, once all are free, as directed, we run at the same time in serpentine
toward the road, the creature confused can’t pick a victim and flaps around in
failed haste. Fast as possible we mount bikes, lock shoes in pedals, start to pump
incessantly, spinning, spinning, spinning, at least 3 miles before we slow
down, feeling we’ve escaped the danger.
I turn to Robert and naively state, “ man that was close”, he replies ,
“ what was close”, I return,” you know the Chubracabra attack”, he answers me again , “ what’s a Chubracabra”,
so I ask the question, “didn’t I just save yall from a Chubracabra?”, Patrick
jumps in ,” you mean the pot hole you led us around”, Tony adds his voice,
“Good job Gary, we almost missed that one”, I realized then maybe some ear buds
would have been a good idea. Approaching the next rest stop, the riders hanging
out are thinning, as the finish nears less and less time is spent snacking,
talking, resting, porta pottying, more time smelling the finish line, pulling like a need, a yearning, a drive, a
fixation, all with purpose and intent. I
quickly gobble some banana, orange wedges, cookies, fill my drink bottle, pee
and off we go , my compadres , being the gentlemen they were, hung with me , we
headed to the last stop , considering , should we skip it, stop, stop quickly,
the last stop is by a school, in Independence. We boogie down the road, smooth clip, Robert
and Patrick are great pacers, Tony and I scoot up and down depending on the
need, Tony and Patrick both have teams, Robert and I fly solo. Hills are fewer
and shallower, flat ground gives us speed we haven’t seen since yesterday
morning, pace is picking up, finish line intensity is picking up, nothing to
save for. The road gets narrow, pedaling gets rapid, starring forward is
critical to the look of determination, playing in my mind “I’m Going Home”,(Ten
Years After) Woodstock version, the miles click, one after another, cadence,
cadence, keep repeating, cadence, circle, circle, nearing the last stop. How many miles?, does it matter, does it
care, does it chase me like a lion chases a gazelle in haste to escape, does it
haunt me like a bad dream clouds my sleep, does it wear me like a biker wears a
leather jacket on a cold windy day, does it beat me like a drum stretched too
tight in a parade, enough metaphors, don’t know, don’t care. Temperature is
perfect, full sun is lighting the world, my urge is to tilt my head up toward
the sky and howl like a grey wolf in the moonlight calling his pack to an
attack on innocence, naivety, weakness, my long flowing hair trailing behind
the back of my helmet. Last rest stop. Robert and I arrive, Patrick and Tony
just left or just behind us, unknown, a few orange slices, drink, and we’re on
our way, less than 3 minutes, “You”,(Candlebox), great song, no more hills,
flat ground, riding flat out, working hard to keep Robert in sight, keeps me
moving faster than I can, the need adds to the speed, less than 10 miles, I can
smell success, nothing else matters, ( whoops, song from earlier), head down,
slide back on seat, approaching Hammond, right turn , cross the tracks, left
turn, last leg, last blast, last thrust, last dance, last chance, make a big
finish. The Campus is in sight, Robert
and I joined up pushing the last few miles, back entrance to the parking lot,
won’t be long now, I can hear the announcer calling riders out as they cross
the finish, the big balloon gate, Robert and I turn right at the red light, 100
more yards, I see the balloon, I hear to roar of the crowd, we race to the
finish, we cross singly for that great picture, the one where it looks like we
just won a stage in the Tour de France, arms in the air, up off our seats, a
smile of victory, it’s a victory, another 75 miles , 150 miles in 2 days, and
serving our real purpose to raise money for MS. Family and friends greet me
with signs and cheers, Robert, Patrick, Tony,
and I get together for some photos and autographs, have to please our fans, we
meet up with the lady that was struggling, she made it and thanked us for our
encouragement, there’s Cristina greeting and helping riders, a giant trophy
filled with Gatorade awaits, we cheer in other riders, enjoy our accomplishment
and promise to ride together again next year…I raised 1719.00 this year,
Patrick, Tony, Robert and I are all in the top one hundred individual
fundraisers, what a great club to belong to with great people doing a great
thing to help others. Thanks to all my contributors, without you my wheels
would not turn true.
Gary Gauthier ©2019
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| Crossing the Finish Line |
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| Crossing the Finish Line. |
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Ready to Start.
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| About 1000 riders. |
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Many Teams.
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| Long way to start. |
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Riding into the Sun.
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Headed North.
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I almost made a wrong turn , this man set me straight..
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One of the Rivers where Big Foot Hangs out.
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Same River
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New Friend Tony.
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Old Two Lane.
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| How can you miss this turn |
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Sweetwater camp ground.
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Hay Fields.
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Through the woods.
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| Thanks to the La and Miss State Troopers, and local police, for handling intersections for us. |
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Chubracapra ran into the woods right here.
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| One of the rest stops. |
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Food , Drink, Potty's, then onward.
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| World Famous, charming, gorgeous, Cristina Giambrone, she makes it all happen... |
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| Sorry Cristina, someone smudged my photo. |
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These are the roads where I expect a Chubracabra to jump out and grab my neck .
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Climber.
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smoothe
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| Sometimes you have to walk up those hills. |
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| Racehorse Farm |
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Racehorses.
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Where the Buffalo roam .
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Cristina Again, she's everywhere.
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| caught a group . |
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| Robert rides a Bianchi |
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I did talk to him, usually from behind.
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| Thought I was lost. |
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Yeah , a down hill.
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| Down then up . |
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Big Climb.
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| Big Foot Lair |
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| Coming into Percy Quinn. |
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Finish Line.
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| Cristina Again. Greeting the finishers. |
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| Had chain failure 20 feet prior to crossing the finish line, pushed myself in on the seat, luckily I had a spare for the next morning.. |
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Sunday Morning
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| Roller coaster out the park . |
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| Fast ride out . |
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About this point a deer ran out the woods and knocked over a lady rider, she was ok . Deer status unknown..
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| Out the Park on to the Main Highway. |
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| Foggy Morning |
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Mornings are fast, eveyones fresh.
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Some of Tony's team
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| Downhill . That's Robert on the left. |
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| Into the fog. |
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Foggy.
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Mr Sun Cleared things up
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| One more climb. |
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Still climbing.
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Selfie. beautiful Jersey..
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Climb Climb Climb.
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Down and up .
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Small hills.
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Always store a fig newton in your sock.
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| Tony wore his Chubracabra repellent socks . |
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| Fun to ride with my old Friend Patrick,, He did great. |
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Tony and I finishing the candy and cookies.
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| My trusty steed at the rest stop . |
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Friends Tony and Robert leaving me in the dust.
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| Patrick handling business. |
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| Robert passing me again |
……………………………………………………………………………………………..
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| Patrick on my right . |
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Patrick and Robert breaking the air for me.
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| Needs a lawnmower. |
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| Plenty highway left. |
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Straight away.
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Downhill all the way.
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Racehorse farm.
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Late rest stop
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| Spotted mule |
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Spotted Mule. Been taking his picture for years.
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Yes deep and fast.
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Butiful
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| Robert and I at the last rest stop |
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| My favorite son ,Neil, welcomes me with a sign Ms Marilyn made. |
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| This nice lady was going to drop out several times , but Tony, Robert, Patrick and Myself convinced her to keep pushing and she was glad she did,, finished, all the way.. |
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| My trusty steed and I . |
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My Support Staff, Katelyn, Madison, Maggie and Alexander. Welcoming me to the finish.
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T
