[Sportsandrec] My idea of a good weekend

[Ron & the bears]

It was an unusually good weekend for riding.

Friday: Captain Joe and I drove from Austin to Shiner TX with my Co-Motion
tandem in the car. It was an Audi A6 wagon with sunroof, XM radio, V-8, and
five-speed manual transmission, quite a nice sled. We started riding at
about 8:30 with David and David, two of my VC teammates. Since it was just 
the
four of us, it was a good time to just cruise and bond. For most of the
ride, it was open, country road, with few cars and smooth pavement. It was
overcast, with the wind to our backs at about 15 mph. This made conversation
among us easier. I have not ridden this bike since March 7th, when I
completed that double century. I was right at home on my trusty steed. Joe
and I felt strong, so we pulled much of the way. Each David took his pulls
at the front as he felt motivated. I guess we were all doing intervals of
moderate speed, then recovery. There were rolling hills, throughout the
ride, but nothing too strenuous. At the 42? mile-mark, I ate a beef & bean
burrito, with a quart of chocolate milk. When we came into town, we had a 19
mph average speed. Once in town, it was back to stop & go traffic, but we
all felt great. I was home by about 3. It was an enjoyable 101 miles. I love
the endorphin high I get during and after the ride, I feel so alive.

Saturday, it is back to Shiner for the 100th anniversary of the brewery.
This is an annual  charity ride to benefit the American Cancer Society. With
that in mind, the organizers lengthened the route to be 100 miles. This
time, I was with Mike, and his '91 Santana Sovereign. I love that name. We 
drove ten miles to the
start of the ride with Lindsay, one of my blossoming pilots. This time, she
was going to ride her single bike for her first century ride. Mike had
connections with the Shiner team for the ride, so I anticipated a good,
large group to suffer with, into the wind. We made some last-minute
preparations to the bike and headed to the start. With about 2,000 other
riders there, we missed his group. So, we headed off, with Lindsay in our
slipstream. The wind was against us, at about 15 mph, but as we rode, it was
going to grow stronger. The skies were delightfully overcast, but it was
quite humid. As we settled into our pace, we passed and were passed by
friends and teammates. Since Mike was not a racer, I was happy to ride more
reserved, while enjoying Lindsay's company and the spectacle of such a large
culmination of riders. We skipped the first two rest-stops. Like a mother
hen, I kept reminding my two comrades to eat and drink early and often. I
have ridden a number of centuries and knew how to survive. I, myself, should 
have
stopped at the second stop for some fuel. By the third stop, at the 44
mile-mark, I was well hydrated, but a little shaky, having not eaten enough
since breakfast. They were serving pb&j, cut into quarters. I must have
eaten about 12-15 of them plus cookies, fruit, and chips. I refilled both of
my bottles with PowerAde, feeling I needed electrolytes more than just plain
water. We socialized a bit, hit the Biff and were on our way again. I could
really feel the food uncomfortablely settling into my now rounded stomach,
but we were riding at a pace that was not too hard. Lindsay's road bike has
disc brakes, which made a cute little tinging sound, like one of those 
percussive triangles.
I often knew just where she was by that sound. and As the wind shifted
around us, she would find the best spot in the lee of our tandem. I imagined 
that I was being closely followed by a giant, but friendly  Saint Bernard 
with a barrel of Gatorade attached to its collar.

Every time Mike and Lindsay would discuss mileage completed or remaining, 
they would
break out into that old "Bottles of Beer on the Wall" song. I, in my usual
state of euphoria, quoted whatever song lyrics that I could match to 
whatever conversation we were having. Sometimes, they would sing old country 
songs about armadillos and the like. We all drove each other nuts, but were
having a great time.:) Sometimes, we would pass another grupo-compacto of
riders. I would ask Mike, "Are we there yet?" Immediately after he would
answer me, I would ask again. It was like we were a rolling side-show for
the other riders. I also brought along one of my three squeaky
toys, mounted to my handlebars. It is shaped like a Hello Kitty. The bears
like it. I squeaked that thing at everyone for the first 85 miles.:)

Somewhere around the 65-70 mile-mark, we all became quiet. The distance, 
wind,
and heat began to take their toll. I know we had another stop or two
between 44 and 80 miles, but I do not recall much. Somewhere in there, I had
a bag of Doritos and another of Fritos. This sounds unhealthy, but the fat
gives calories, while the salt provides electrolytes and encourages 
drinking. Mike was getting heavier on the bike, so I had to work harder to
keep things rolling efficiently. We were all shifting our positions on our
saddles. I think I realized what my next saddle adjustment will be on his
bike. It took me 60 miles to figure it out. I had opportunity to move my 
saddle, or use my own, but I would always forget at the stops.

I had been teaching Mike, a relatively new pilot, a lot of riding techniques 
that I had picked up from miles of riding tandem. He was a gracious
gentleman to me. At the 80-mile stop, I had more empty bottles to fill, and
shared another bag of chips with Lindsay. Back on the road, I was feeling 
better than I had since the start. It was like that pb&J was just then
getting into my system, 36 miles later. I felt down-right spunky! We met up
with four members of the Rice University Cycling Team. We went to the front
of their group and started pulling harder. All three of us thought that more
riders would help Lindsay stay better sheltered from the wind. We had 
ourselves a
convoy and I was lit up, ready to get this thing over with. I was beginning
to smell the barn! Our speed picked up and Mike was spot on with matching
our power with the terrain, via the gears. I could hear the Rice guys
thanking us several times for the next eight miles as everyone was getting
happy again. Then, Mike had to stop pedaling and rest. I encouraged him not
to do that in front of a pack, so he pulled off as we let them go. Lindsay 
was off the back by several minutes. We pulled into the next stop, a few
miles down the road. The Rice boys were all strung out at that stop, with
helmets off and looking peaked. We found our Lindsay and were back at it.
Now, the wind is like 20-25 miles per hour. We have maybe seven miles to go.
There are literally tired cyclists all along the roadside, making their own,
impromptu  rest-stops. My two troupers told me about all the support 
vehicles passing by, filled up with bikes and riders, who threw in the towel 
before the finish. Then, at mile 97, Mike had to stop. Other riders that we 
had passed would then pass us back. Two VC teammates checked-in with us
as they passed by. I said we were fine, but I did not know that Mike was
laying down in the grass. That must have been a sight for my teammates.:) He
rested for a good ten minutes, but was ready to finish the ride, too.
Lindsay was hurting all over since about mile 85, but was in good spirits.
As we pulled into the final meters of the ride, she came up alongside of us
and grabbed my hand. We raised them up as her fiancé, Chad videoed us riding 
across the finishline. I was so proud of her! It was fun to hear the
volunteers and other riders cheering, too. Ten minutes later, I was scarfing
down brisket and sausage sandwiches with sour crout and cole slaw. I had a
sip of Lindsay's Shiner beer as a toast to our toasted bodies. It was really
a good day. Mike came back to life after some food and rest. He admitted
that he did not do enough eating and sleeping before the ride. Excitement
before a ride does that to cyclists regularly. I think our average was 
around 15 mph.

Sunday,: I was on a third tandem, with a third pilot. This time, it was Tom,
one of my regular race pilots with his Cannondale. We rode 60 miles on our
regular training ride with VC. I felt surprisingly good for the ride, since
I had slept soundly the night before. Joe, my pilot from Friday's ride was
there, too. We had both ridden all three days. Just for fun, I brought along
the squeaky cat in my jersey pocket. I do not normally squeak in groups of
racers, but I had paid some dues lately. A German Shepherd came at us out of
nowhere. I squeaked him good, but I do not think that is why he split. At
the 40-mile mark, I had only a pint of chocolate milk and a pack of
Pop-Tarts. On the way back, at race speeds, off the front of the pack, I 
made some gross, burpy sounds. Tom jokingly asked me not to barf on his
back. I was not expecting to ride so hard after the stop. Note to self about 
chocolate milk...
The eight break-away riders eventually slowed and we had a social last ten
miles to get back home. We left behind the other 15. We had a 17 mph 
average.

I napped solidly for four hours, with a cat to make it an official catnap.

Today, I am resting. I plan to help a group fix bikes for people in need.
Tomorrow, it is back in the gym. I have another century to ride with Tom on
Saturday, just before the John Eldredge seminar. I will have a strong pilot
and a good reason to go fast.

My heart is on fire.
My soul's like a wheel that's turnin'.

My love is alive. Gary Wright

Ron & the long haul truckin' bears
Austin, TX 



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