Dave’s Good Stuff

Thank you again, all of you who contributed pledges to the MS150 in my name. My goal was a modest $200, and thanks to you, I earned a (to my mind) considerably less modest $405. I had no idea the generosity would be so great. Thank you again, very much.

The ride really starts for me on Thursday afternoon, when I notice my throat starting to get that achy - need to get to the doctor quick - feeling in it. Swallowing starts to hurt, the head starts to get a little pressurized… you know the drill. Perfect health all summer, and two days before the ride I’ve spent all season training for, I get sick. I’d like to speak to the author of my life about his sense of humor. Not sure I like the twist it’s taking. I stay home on Friday to rest, and over the course of the day I *will* the sick to a manageable level… enough so that come Saturday morning at 4:45am, I can swallow with almost no pain. I figure at this point that riding with a little pain is nothing compared to living with MS, so… RIDE ON!!

I’ve been training with a friend of mine, we’ll call him Chris b/c that’s his name, so we hook up for the drive to Lee’s Summit and the start line. Another stroke of the pen laced with wicked humor and the morning greets us with rain, and plenty of it. Fantastic! I just replaced the rain damaged parts on my bike, and I’ve no choice but to throw them in the water again. Sir, honestly, I find your sense of humor grating. So we make it out to the staging area… a big field more mud than grass, and hook up with the rest of the team. Picture this… hundreds of people dressed in brightly colored skin-tight bicycle shorts, carrying bikes of all types, tramping around in the dark and the rain and the mud all sticky and clumpy, cold and filthy to the last… and every one happy to be there. That said, the gathering, moist conditions aside, is very well organized. While the rain did add a sort of chaotic element to getting ready, it didn’t deter a soul that I know of… and if it did, that soul wasn’t in the spirit of things anyway. Begone, foul deterred.

We meet the captain, Dawn, and she provides us our team apparel… that’s another story in and of itself. That she was able to get it to us at all is something of a miracle. Thank you very much, Dawn, for the hard work you put into getting all this stuff together. You’re a star. We head off to change in the cars, Chris and I… in separate cars… and gather our luggage for the organizers to take to the destination. Yes, it’s still dark, and it’s still raining, and there’s still mud. It’s actually quite comic, if you’re into that dark humor thing… which I am, so all is well!

The organizers staggered the starts so the road wouldn’t be too crowded at any one time. Three or four large groups of riders rode out spaced about 15 or 20 minutes apart. Chris and I, newbies that we are, don’t make it in time to ride out with the team captain in her group, but do make it out with a few of the other teammates in the next group… barely. 7:45am, we’re on the road, wet but glad to be finally doing what we trained all summer to do.

At this point I should tell you something. Two days prior, on Thursday, Chris and I replaced our drying and cracking tires with tires all shiny and new. I was hopped up on Benadryl at the time, so I don’t really recall the experience, but I hear it went well. That little bit of foreshadowing laid out, allow me to cast light on the reason behind it. Here it is then: Two miles into the ride, Chris picks up a little piece of glass. Just a little one, granted, but enough to slice through the tire and into the tube, effectively rendering the one questionable, and the other useless. And yes, it’s still raining.

He’s picked up by a SAG (Supplies And Gear) vehicle along with another rider in the same predicament, while I tear wheel on to the next SAG stop trying to meet them there. SAG vehicles, it turns out, ride at about 3.7mph. Trying to keep him from waiting for me at the SAG, I hurried along at, oh, about 22-25mph. Needless to say, I get there, and wait… have a bite… and wait… have a sip… and wait… have a bite… and wait… you get the drill. Again… that sense of humor thing, we really need to talk about it. Chris arrives, frustrated, his fist raised to the sky in defiance, and wanting only to get moving. The rain lessens, the prognosis on the tire and tube are good, and within minutes of him arriving, we are back on our way. Things are definitely looking up.

The training Chris and I did over the summer really did pay off… though it wasn’t a race, I’m personally proud to say that we were not passed by anyone while in the saddle, and we passed everyone we saw. We were driven though… between the late start and the flat, we wanted to catch up to the rest of the team, and if possible Dawn. It’s a goal, if nothing else. I threw my chain a couple times, a minor irritant and delay, but nothing serious. By 10:30 or so, we make up that half and hour/forty minutes and have lunch with the rest of the team… only to finish early and take off to try to catch the captain.

I have to say, I think everyone should have a cheerleading squad following them around, celebrating their accomplishments. At a few of the SAGs, including the lunch stop and the end, there were people there (some of them young women in traditional cheerleading garb even) doing just that. Talk about a morale boost! I think I’ll go get another cup of coffee (insert sounds of happy cheering). Time to take off for lunch now (another round of enthusiastic jumping around and cheering). There’s that pen I’ve been looking for (oh the cheering!). Oh yeah, that would be the life.

After lunch, we continue our fast pace, making up as much time as we could. Both Chris and I are very competitive when it comes to… well… just about anything, and cycling is no exception. Aside from down times when I threw my chain a couple more times (really have to adjust that front derailleur), no one passed us wheels turning, and we passed more than I know. Then, our luck changed again. Around mile 60 or so, Chris’ knee started bothering him. It got bad enough that I actually started beating him up hills (something I’ve not been able to do since early summer). Finally, he was pulling most of his weight with one leg, using the bad leg primarily for balance… but he’s stubborn. We still made good progress, and with admirable will and drive, he powered through the pain and we both pulled into Sedalia, mile 88.2, a little before 3:00pm. We’d made it, despite the Architect’s sick sense of humor, and no-at-all-astronomical odds.

The captain, having pulled the full Century, made it in about half and hour, 45 minutes (or more) before us. They were cooking along as well, since they made the trip in the same or better time, with an extra 11 miles tacked on. Very well done! grumble… grumble…

The first thing I do is turn my bike over to the complimentary mechanic to check it for rain damage. Chris, meanwhile, is flat on the grass, wondering what was wrong with his knee, shaking his fist once again at the sky. My bike is fine, his knee is not, and my throat is starting to complain again. We talk about it for a while, and decide that for the sake of his knee (and my respiratory health), that we’d be wise to call it a weekend at that point. We grab some quick shower time, take advantage of the provided spaghetti, and are on our way. In fact, it’s only thanks to the extraordinary last minute generosity of a teammate Jenny and her husband Chris, that we had a ride back that night. We are able to fit 5 bikes and associated riders in a single mid-sized minivan, and are back in Lee’s Summit around… honestly, I don’t know what time. But it was good.

Thank you all, again, very much for your pledges. Though we didn’t ride the full distance, both Chris and I feel, perhaps selfishly, like we put in enough effort in that first day to make up for it. Between my sinus infection and his knee, we did pretty good, I think. It wasn’t all roses, but all things considered, it was a phenomenal day I won’t soon forget, and it was, after all, for a very good cause.

Here’s to hoping for an experience as good, or better, next year!

With the Season Finale behind me, I’m starting to think about what I want to accomplish next season. I was thinking about riding to Wichita to visit my parents, ideally accompanied by my brother currently living in Portland, OR. I still think that would be a very fun thing to do, but if it doesn’t happen, it won’t be the end of the world. The Season Finale behind me, I’m starting to think about what I want to accomplish next season. I was thinking about riding to Wichita to visit my parents, ideally accompanied by my brother currently living in Portland, OR. I still think that would be a very fun thing to do, but if it doesn’t happen, it won’t be the end of the world. The Bike Across Kansas, maybe eventually the Bike Across America - that sort of thing), but how will I know what I prefer unless I get a taste of what else is out there. The more I think about it, the more I really like the idea of pitting myself against other local talent. Am I, as Dawn says, a strong rider? With some additional training, knowledge and discipline, do I really stand a chance? How will it compare to the slower endurance challenges of 70, 80 or Century rides?

The only thing that concerns me about it is the politics. I’ve heard the racing community is *much* less friendly than the endurance community. Thus far, I’ve been really impressed by the cyclists I’ve come across. Sure, there are some distant, more aloof people out there, as well as others who just don’t seem to know or care about the rules of the road, but overall, they’re a good bunch of people. How will the racing crowd stand up to that? There’s going to be an element of competition that simply doesn’t exist in the long distance rides I’ve been on so far. Of course, a couple local club rides, a slew of training rides, a couple Centuries and a big charity ride pretty much completes my dossier at this point, so what do I really know?

Nothing. So I think I’ll race a bit to learn something.