Big Guy on a Bicycle: Road Cycling

Not Bad...

Fri, 23 Jun 2006 22:26:23 GMT

I’m about 6’2” tall. Lately I weigh around 235 pounds, though I was down to 233 in April but have rebounded due to the recent injuries. I don’t really stand out in a crowd by looks for the most part, unless that crowd is mostly cyclists. Especially enthusiasts, which are the guys I ride with most of the time. These guys are usually a little shorter and a lot thinner (like I used to be).

I’m now the guy everyone wants to ride behind. I’ve been called a Mack Truck, a Human Billboard, or even simply THE DRAFT. To be fair, if you just look at me you’d think I wouldn’t be able to keep up with a group of enthusiasts. But you might be surprised. I’ll freely admit that I suffer greatly for the extra weight when climbing hills, but on the flats and downhills (or even a gradual uphill) I can motor along pretty good.

There are lots of times I show up for rides with people I don’t know. Often I will find that bigger guys than me can ride faster and even climb better. Then there are the fit looking guys who I can outride easily. What I’m saying here is, don’t judge a book by its cover.

Most folks I know realize this little law of physical looks versus perceived performance ability. I hardly ever get the ‘look of disdain’ when meeting people on rides for the first time. I know I surprise people once in a while that I can do as well as I can, but nobody ever says anything about my weight before the ride begins.

“Ever.” Hmm. That’s an absolute. Absolutes sound like rules. Rules are made…to be broken. And this one has been, usually to the rule-breaker’s dismay. I will now relate one case in particular.

Several years ago I was a bit heavier than I am now. I would guess that my weight was somewhere between 245 and 255 pounds (probably closer to the higher end of that range). I was getting ready to ride in that year’s Tour de Blount (a local metric century) and had lined up at the start among several of my friends. My plan was to stay with the front group of riders for at least the first 10 miles or so, and maybe as far as the beginning of the first big hill climb before dropping back to find a group riding a more reasonable pace. The pace of the front group on this ride is always high, and the front group always gets smaller and smaller throughout the whole ride as local elite racers push the tempo (they use it as a training ride).

So, while I was standing there waiting for the start, I just barely overhead two high-school kids standing nearby. “Hey, get a load of the fat guy.” A quick and discreet glance sideways (made easier by the dark sunglasses) confirmed that I was the fat guy in question. “Yeah, I bet he doesn’t last long.” This was followed by giggling or snickering or whatever it is high-school kids do. I made a quick mental note.

I’d been riding a lot that year already. By the time the ride took place that May, I already had about 900 miles of training in. I knew my capabilities. I formulated a plan.

The ride started. As usual, the front group hit a fairly high pace right away. I watched the two kids as they moved toward the front. They spent a lot of time up front. I made my way up to the front about as often as most guys there, took my pull, and drifted back. The kids kept going forward, I guess try to show how good they were.

The pace stayed high. We got to one point where there was a spilt in the group right in front of me, and three or four other guys and I had to work hard to get back up to the front group. We stayed at the back a few minutes to recover, and then started to move forward again. I saw the kids up there, not looking so fresh and strong, but I put on my mask of grim calm as I went by (even though I was hurting).

We got to the base of the first big hill. I was surprised to still be with the big group, but the kids were there too, so I wasn’t about to give up then. I used up a lot of energy to climb the hill and stay in contact with the back of the group, knowing I would suffer later. Didn’t matter. I still had my game plan intact.

The kids started drifting back to the back more often. The mask of grim calm came out each time they went by me either going up or going back. I knew I was uncomfortable, but I could see that they were worse off than me.

I was sitting near the back of the group when I saw that the kids had finally come off the front and came unglued, snapped, bonked, blew up, whatever you want to call it, but they were done. As the group flew by, they were hanging their heads pretty low. Guys around me had that knowing smile of watching youthful bravado take a dive. I got over onto the same side of the group they were drifting back down so I could be next to them as we went by.

“Hey,” I said, “I’m not doing too bad for a fat guy, am I?”

[Sound of laughter erupting among those in earshot, accompanied by image of two kids turning ash-white when they realized they hadn’t been quite so quiet as they’d thought.]

Mischief managed, I got into the next group of six or seven guys to drop off the high pace and rode comfortably for the rest of the way to the finish. I found out later that the two kids abandoned at the half-way point.

Trivia Answers for 6/15

1. What musical group does Robin Zander sing for? Way back, in perhaps my first trivia quiz (or soon after), I asked about Rick Nielsen and his guitars. I’ve returned to that well, I guess, since Rick and Robin are both members of Cheap Trick.

2. Only one person has won a Nobel Prize in both Chemistry and Physics. Who? Albert Einstein was guessed by a number of respondents, but it wasn’t him. Marie Curie got that honor.

3. There's a church in Barcelona, Spain on which construction began in 1882. It isn't finished yet, though they are still working on it. What is it called? I fully expected LP to get this one, but I didn’t think she’d be the only one to get the Sagrada Familia. Big Mike was a close second with “any typical government project”.

4. I watched part of today's World Cup match between Trinidad and England. Seeing one of England's midfielders doing a corner kick made me think of a certain art-house movie titled...? “Bend It Like Beckham”. This was a film I didn’t think I’d like when I went to see it with Mrs. Guy, but I did.

5. One of the co-stars of that movie was also in movies such as "King Arthur" and "Pirates of the Carribean", and even "Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace". Who am I referring to? Keira Knightley had what most consider to be her ‘breakthrough role’ playing opposite lead actress Parminder Nagra. She has also been in a number of other movies (“Pride and Prejudice” comes to mind) and will be in the new “Pirates of the Caribbean” movie coming out on or about July 7^th.

Bonus Question: The star of the movie in #4 is now in the cast of what NBC show? Parminder Nagra is now playing the role of Neela Rasgotra on ER. Extra bit of trivia: Parminder got to carry the Olympic Flame on part of its journey through London on its way to Athens in 2004.

Blue Ridge Parkway - Part II

Fri, 16 Jun 2006 02:15:58 GMT

Previously, on the Big Guy’s blog, he was discussing the Blue Ridge Parkway trip he’s made two times in the past two years. He left it at the lodgings at Little Switzerland, NC. Let’s pick up now where the discussion left off…

The next day of riding is the long day, and is harder than the previous day’s ride from Blowing Rock. Leaving Little Switzerland, the route climbs up past the entrance to the road leading up to Mt. Mitchell, which is (as has been stated in a previous trivia quiz) the tallest peak east of the Mississippi River. Happily, we did not have to climb to the top. Even where we were was kinda cold both years. The peak would have been colder still.

A little past the Mt. Mitchell entrance the road pitches downward and descends for most of the way down to Asheville. This is a long descent. It is tiresome at times. That sounds counterintuitive, but it’s true. Riders like me tend to spend a lot of time in an aerodynamic tuck for maximum coasting ability. Some riders tend to ride their brakes much of the way. The aerodynamic position gets a little uncomfortable after several minutes, and I understand that riding the brakes can cause your hands to cramp up. I wouldn’t know about that part. Some people joke that the brake pads on my bike have less wear on them than new ones straight out of the box. That’s ridiculous, of course. I do use my brakes at stop lights.

Lunch is served near Asheville in the parking lot of the Folk Art Center. It’s important to take on a lot of fuel at this lunch stop in particular, as the big climb starts soon after leaving lunch. There’s a little bit of rolling climbing to be done right away, but just a little past the bridge over I-26 the climb begins in earnest. And stays in earnest. Fortunately, there is some seriously wonderful scenery to keep one company on this climb. There are also several tunnels, most of them fairly short. Only one of these tunnels made me nervous.

The tunnel in question isn’t really terribly long, I guess, but you can’t see all of the way through from one end to the other since it curves. It also gets pretty dark toward the middle. The first year I rode this I didn’t have a light at all. Bruce was riding with me, and he didn’t have one either. We figured we’d be OK, since you can see by the light of headlights when there are cars in the tunnel, and you can usually see at least the white line on the side of the roadway even without the cars. But here’s what freaked me out. I heard a car come into the tunnel from in front of us. I then felt the rush of air as it passed us. Then I heard it leave the tunnel behind us. At no time did I ever see that car, and I would swear to you that it felt like he passed within a foot of us. A quick check upon exiting the tunnel confirmed that there were plenty of signs stating “Tunnel Ahead” and “Turn On Headlights”, but this guy (or gal) never did. I’d hate to think what could have happened if Bruce and I hadn’t been hugging the white line.

Last year I took a helmet-mounted headlight. Live and learn.

The climb keeps going and keeps going and keeps going and… Beginning to see a pattern yet? Luckily the SAG van comes by every once in a while to offer water or a Payday Bar (the perfect cycling food – a little sweet, a little salty, won’t melt in your pocket,…). The climb keeps going some more and then eventually you arrive at the Pisgah Inn at the top of, what else, Mount Pisgah. A nice shower is very welcome at that point not only by the rider but all those within a certain radius as well.

The best thing about staying at the Pisgah Inn, though, isn’t so much the surroundings (which are lovely), but the restaurant. To look at this place, I’d expect some simple and adequate food. I’d be mistaken (and was, the first time I was there). The food is phenomenal, and is matched by a wonderful selection of wines. The prices aren’t too bad, but then again, the next nearest place to eat is quite a distance away.

The last day, Sunday, brings a bit more climbing (though not as much as the previous day) and a lot of descending. The lunch stop is at the parking area of the Richland Balsam overlook, which is the highest point on the parkway. One of my favorite memories on the BRP came here. Let me explain. Jim is a little shorted than me. Eric O. is quite a bit taller than me. Jim jumped on Eric’s bike and started pedaling it around the parking lot. Jim can’t sit on the seat to do this. He has to sit on the top tube of the bike and then can just barely reach. It looked like a bizarre circus act. We were all rolling about laughing, though part of that could have been oxygen deprivation.

It’s a good bit of descending from there to the end of the ride in Cherokee, but with some surprisingly long climbs stuck in there to keep you guessing. The last ten miles or so are a really good screaming descent all the way to the end of the parkway. I’m usually somewhere around the middle of the group after the last of the climbs to reach that point, but I tend to make up a good bit of ground flying down that mountain. I climb like a brick these days, but I descend like one too. I even have people complain that they can’t keep up with my draft on a good descent with me coasting and them pedaling full out. I’ll take the gravity-assist where I can.

At the end of the parkway is a grassy median where the van always parks. Just over the edge of the road from there is a path that leads down to a creek. A cold creek. A cold creek with a tire swing. After all that riding, it feels absolutely wonderful to jump in and freeze for a while. After loading up the van and piling back into it, the group heads for a pizza place I can’t remember the name of and then heads out on the drive back to Knoxville.

It’s not an easy tour, but nothing on the Blue Ridge Parkway is easy. It is a fun tour, though. I’ve already told John B. to hold my spot for this year’s ride in August. Interested? I’m sure Highland Adventures Guide Services would love to hear from you. Come on, give it a try. That is, if you think you can handle it…

Trivia Time

You know there are Rules. There are always rules. Send answers to bgoab at mindspring dot com.

1. What musical group does Robin Zander sing for?

2. Only one person has won a Nobel Prize in both Chemistry and Physics. Who?

3. There's a church in Barcelona, Spain on which construction began in 1882. It isn't finished yet, though they are still working on it. What is it called?

4. I watched part of today's World Cup match between Trinidad and England. Seeing one of England's midfielders doing a corner kick made me think of a certain art-house movie titled...?

5. One of the co-stars of that movie was also in movies such as "King Arthur" and "Pirates of the Carribean", and even "Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace". Who am I referring to?

Bonus Question: The star of the movie in #4 is now in the cast of what NBC show?

Blue Ridge Parkway - Part I

Thu, 15 Jun 2006 00:22:07 GMT

I have twice spent several days riding on the Blue Ridge Parkway (BRP) in North Carolina. I’m not referring to the ride I did that ended up on the BRP at the Pisgah Inn, because that ride only spent part of one day up there, and not for a very long distance (maybe four miles, maybe less). No, these two trips were multi-day supported jaunts along this beautiful stretch of road.

Both trips were put on by Highland Adventures Guide Services (HAGS), which is a company that John B. and Jim put together many years ago (before I’d even gotten back into cycling). Their first trip was in June ’03, but I didn’t go on that one. It was mostly put together for a bike shop in Athens, TN, and I couldn’t have ridden it anyway (still coming back on form after my first clavicle ‘break & plate’ special that Spring). The next two years were opened up to anyone who wanted to go, so I went both in June ’04 and in September ’05 (I forgot why it was moved). I think each trip had twelve riders, but I could be off on that (maybe as many as fifteen including John and Jim, who always split time between riding and driving the SAG van).

The ’04 trip was similar to the first trip in ’03 in that it was a four-day trip that started near the VA/NC state line. It was also similar in that several of the riders (at least four) from Athens came back to ride it again. That first day was spent riding over several sets of rolling hills to the town of Blowing Rock (which also happens to be the Guy family’s adoptive home-away-from-home). It was a harder day than I’d have thought because the late rollers really took their toll. One rider had an even tougher time that first day when she crashed within the first few miles of riding and ended up with a big scrape on one leg. It looked painful (and I’m sure it was), but she got back on the bike and rode it out like a trooper.

The ’05 trip cut off the first day and just started in Blowing Rock. This served several purposes. First, it let HAGS reduce the overall cost of the trip. Second, it cut out the least interesting section of the BRP in NC. The advantage for a lot of us was that it allowed us to take less time away from work (the perfect long-weekend trip, though). To be honest, I really didn’t miss it much that second year.

The day from Blowing Rock to Little Switzerland is hard right from the start, but it tapers off a bit. The first thing is a climb up along the side of Grandfather Mountain to the Linn Cove Viaduct, which grants a rider some spectacular views of the mountains and valleys off toward Hickory. From there it’s on toward the meeting spot for lunch, which is a little picnic/park area just off the side of the BRP. It’s this stretch of road that makes it first sink in to me that the absolute best thing about the Parkway is the fact that all (ALL!) commercial traffic is banned, so there are no eighteen-wheelers, no panel vans, no pizza delivery boys (or girls) driving like bats out of Hades, just us and whatever cars are willing to cruise along at the 45 mph speed limit. Most of those drivers are reasonably respectful of cyclists space, too.

After lunch is, well, hard to tell you about. The first trip I was on went straight down the BRP. However, by the time of the second trip there was a long stretch of the BRP closed due to damage from several large storms spawned by hurricanes in the Gulf (Ivan was particularly rough on western NC). We ended up routing ourselves around the closed section by hitting several backroads and only one road with any major traffic. It was a price worth paying, though, to get to ride on the sections of the Parkway that were open.

That day of riding ends at the Big Lynn Lodge in Little Switzerland, where the dinner is provided with the room (and a good dinner, too) and the horseshoe pits out back are first-come, first-served. The Big Lynn Lodge is named for a 500-year old linden tree that stood in a spot in front of the current lodge until 1965. Two trees that are off-shoots of the original Big Lynn still grace the spot.

I’m saving the rest for tomorrow…

"One reason bikes make the best friends is that they won't drink your last beer from the refrigerator." - Joe Ford

Snippets

Tue, 13 Jun 2006 01:10:51 GMT

Several friends of mine recently rode in the American Diabetes Society two-day bike ride from Oak Ridge, TN to Harrogate, TN and back. I was also scheduled to go, but, well, I couldn’t, now could I? John H. was to be my roommate for the overnight, and was happy to report that they didn’t replace me in the room with someone he didn’t know. Anyway, among the riders were a couple that we are friends with, Angela and Duane. Duane has done that ride before. Angela, on the other hand, is relatively new to cycling having just gotten a new “good” bike only months ago (and at my LBS, to boot).

John H. and I talked last week just after the ride. I asked him how it went for him, and he was pleased with how well he was able to do. However, he painted a bit of a “gloom and doom” story of the experience shared by Angela and Duane.

First, he told me of how they crashed (Angela accidentally touched wheels with Duane – it happened to me a few times when I started riding, though not with Duane). Then I heard about them reaching the lunch stop to find all of the food gone. Next was the tale of the thunderstorm, and later having to be SAGged in the final bit. All of this was on the second day. My heart sank. I knew this was the kind of experience, especially if it’s a first experience, that can cause a new rider to abandon a bike to the cobwebs that hang in the garage from the old record player to the Apple II computer to the weight bench/treadmill that hasn’t been used since 1994 and back to the old rusted hand-cranked ice cream maker that last saw the light of day when Truman was in office.

Mrs. Guy and I went to a picnic yesterday with several other couples from our Sunday School class, including Angela and Duane. I was a little hesitant to ask about the ride, but I figured I should, if only to encourage them to keep at it and not let one bad experience ruin them on riding. Here are a few snippets of conversation from them:

-=-=-

Angela: Oh, yeah. I crashed pretty good. [Shows scab on knee.] It was just a half-mile past one rest stop but I kept going to the next one. I wasn’t wanting to turn around. Besides, when I got to the next stop, all the guys were crowding around going “Oh, are you OK? How bad does it hurt?” and stuff. It was great!

-=-=-

Duane: I couldn’t believe it. We got to the lunch stop, and there … was … nothing! Well maybe not nothing, but barely enough for the group we were with to get anything at all.

Angela: Yeah, I think that a bunch of people we’d left behind at the previous rest stop SAGged ahead to lunch, ate the last of it, and then SAGged back to Oak Ridge! That’s likely since they told us right after then that we were the last riders on the road.

-=-=-

Angela: At one point they told us since we were the last riders that the broom wagon was right behind us and getting ready to go on by. I thought they were going to leave us unsupported! So the six of us in our group started riding hard – harder than I’d ever ridden before – just to stay ahead of them. I kept thinking “I don’t know if I can keep this pace up”, but after about six miles I realized “Hey, I am keeping this pace up!” I felt a lot better than I’d expected.

-=-=-

[Someone asks about them having to end the ride in the van.]

Duane: It wasn’t the van!

Angela: Yeah, it was the moving truck!

[Editor’s note: The ride organizers use a moving truck to transport overnight luggage from Oak Ridge to Harrogate and back.]

Duane: Somebody told us that the moving truck was right behind us and that once they went past, that was it – no more support people out there. We all decided it was better to get in than to ride unsupported, especially since we’d just been through a big thunderstorm.

[Someone asks Angela if she at least rode up front in the truck.]

Angela: No way! I wanted to ride in the back! How many times do you get an opportunity to ride in the back of a moving van?

Duane: And when we say “in the back”, we mean in the back. They closed the doors and there was no light or anything.

Angela: Now we know how illegal aliens feel.

[Other bits of conversation followed, some of which I caught and some of which I didn’t.]

So, I think I was worrying about them prematurely. They were both very positive about the experience, even though the experience itself might not have sounded so positive on the surface of it. It just reinforces an old cycling axiom I first heard long ago (and have repeated many times since); A bad day on the bike is still better than a good day at work*. Heart-felt kudos to both.

*Disclaimer: This depends on what job you have, of course, and how much you enjoy it. Still, I wish I could figure out a way to make being on the bike my job and yet be able to bring home enough for Mrs. Guy not to consider me a deadbeat.

Into the West '02 - Part II

Sun, 04 Jun 2006 00:17:45 GMT

Picking up where I left off yesterday...

The road around Lake Tahoe is only about 60 or so miles. In order to make a century (i.e., 100 miles) out of it, the route diverts onto an out-and-back to Truckee, California (and past the site of the 1960 Winter Olympics at Squaw Valley) at the northwest point of the lake. The road going to Truckee from the lake is all downhill. The town of Truckee itself is unremarkable. In fact, the only thing I really remember about it was that it had a 7-Eleven and a traffic signal.

The road leaving Truckee back to Lake Tahoe is, as you might surmise, all uphill. The grade isn’t too bad, but it does take away valuable energy, and in Bob’s case, a few square inches of skin. The year before I had decided it was best not to ride behind Bob. Bob is a nice guy and all, but he’s not a great paceline rider (a bit of a squirrel, actually). I was second in line on the return to the lake when I heard the sound that I knew could only be Bob hitting the pavement. Sure enough, he’d managed to cross wheels with the rider in front of him. Tanya had been behind Bob (she hadn’t yet learned…) and was able to avoid running over him only by using some impressive bike-handling skills she herself had been previously unaware of. A few band-aids and a little wrenching to straighten his handlebar and Bob was back on the road, though relegated to the back of the paceline.

The road back to the lake claimed it’s share of other casualties, as we only had three riders when we got to King’s Beach just past the halfway point (which is where the lunch break stop was). The others had fallen off the pace on the climb, but we knew they’d catch up while we were eating…if they could find us. There must have been three hundred or so riders there, and for every one that left, another one would arrive. Memphis Dave, Mark and I spotted Tanya and Rachel when they arrived, but we never saw the others in the crowd.

We took off from King’s Beach together and started around toward the second major climb of the day, called Spooner (the other “major” was Emerald bay). Along the way we got separated when Tanya had a flat. Rachel and I stopped and helped fix it, but Mark and Memphis Dave had been to far ahead to know it had happened. We got going again, only to have my rear wheel go flat within a mile or two. I sent the girls on, thinking I’d catch up. I made the change, got going, and reached the bottom of the climb.

Now, I ride a good bit, and I ride up climbs even though I’m a heavier-than-most-riders guy at a reasonable pace, but I had a problem on the Spooner climb I don’t usually have. I was about half-way up the climb when I had to pull over and … breathe. I just couldn’t get enough oxygen. I was several thousand feet in elevation higher than the highest roads I’m usually on, and the lack of oxygen had me gasping. I breathed deep on the side of the road for about a minute, and then it took about another minute to get back on the road because of the constant stream of cyclists. I paced myself a bit better after that based on my hypoxic experience.

I was having another problem at that point, though. I had to go. I mean, I …had … to… GO!!! But, not only was there a lack of sufficient oxygen on that mountain, there was also a glaring lack of restroom facilities. I kept thinking that I could just go at the rest area at the top, but with every pedal stroke the pain was increasing. Finally, I just decided that I had no choice but to find what cover I could and do what had to be done. I pulled over near the only reasonably sized tree about 15 feet away from the road and leaned up against it with my back to the cyclists climbing the road, though I was exposed to anyone driving down, or looking back for that matter. I didn’t care anymore. Only one thing mattered right then, and I was doing it no matter what. I finished up, turned around, … and there was a line of guys (and girls!) waiting for the tree. I guess I opened the floodgates in more ways than one.

I finished the climb in far more comfort, though I could feel my legs starting to tighten up. I was afraid that if I stopped at the last rest stop at the top of Spooner, I might tighten up further and start cramping. Besides, the others ahead of me and I had said we wouldn’t stop at the top unless absolutely necessary, so I figured I’d have to book it down the final descent back toward the Start/Finish if I wanted to catch up.

One thing I’ve never had a problem with is being able to descend very fast on the bike (except for the accident at Woody Gap, but that was because I was able to descend fast…). I always used descents to catch people in races and other rides, and I figured that with a 15 or so mile descent, I would catch at least Rachel and Tanya. But I didn’t. I passed a number of people on the descent, but none that I knew. The only person to pass me did it while I had slowed to talk to Mrs. Guy and She-Mom in the convertible (they’d been at the rest area atop Spooner and saw me go by, but they hadn’t seen any of the others). I did pass him back, though, and realized I'd passed him once before. Still, I was feeling discouraged that I’d been slowed down so much more than everyone else in my group that I wasn’t catching up.

Finally I reached the finish line to find only Memphis Dave waiting in our group-designated spot. About 5 or 10 minutes later Mark, Rachel and Tanya showed up to say that they’d stopped at the port-o-lets at the top of Spooner and were just getting ready to ride again when they saw me go by. Mark had tried to catch me, but gave up after a few miles and then sat up and waited for the girls.

Eventually we all finished up and got cleaned up, with hours to spare before the evening TnT Congratulatory banquet. Several of us decided to meet up at the casino, but Mrs. Guy said she wanted to lie down for a while due to a headache. Tanya, Rachel, Mark and I headed for the $5 BlackJack table and started playing. I started out with $100 designated to play with for the whole trip. If I lost that $100, I was stopping at that. But soon, I was up to around $180 in chips and was on a roll until… I suddenly started losing. I couldn’t win a hand. I went from $80 up to $30 down rather quickly without winning a single hand. “What happened to you?”, asked Tanya. “If I was to guess?”, I said, “I’d say that Mrs. Guy just came down to the casino.” And sure enough, there she was when I turned to look.

I love my wife. She loves me (at least that’s what she tells me). We have a good marriage and enjoy each other’s company. However, none of this counters the fact that she is a very well-established bad luck charm for me whenever I enter into a game of chance while she’s around. She doesn’t even have to be standing near me. Just being anywhere in the same casino is enough. Over the next few days I made back money on slots and BlackJack in her absence, only to lose it all back while she was around. That $100? All gone by the time we got back to Reno to fly out. Again, c’est la vie. I’d rather have her than that small amount of money anyway.

Anyway, we went to the banquet that night, those of us with the strength left to dance danced, and then we went downstairs to a casino restaurant for hot fudge sundaes before calling it a night. The next day saw everyone else but Mrs. Guy and me head back to the airport.

And us? We spent the next day taking a balloon ride, driving around the lake – stopping along the way to see all the touristy stuff and take a bunch of pictures – and then meeting She-Mom and her, um, well I guess I should call him her “boyfriend”, for dinner at a little Basque restaurant just south of Carson City.

So that’s the story, or at least as much of it as I remember now, sitting here 5 years later. I think I captured it pretty well.

Into the West '02 - Part I

Fri, 02 Jun 2006 22:29:16 GMT

I have previously told the story of my first cycling trip out west, which was also my first time participating in a Leukemia & Lymphoma Society Team-in-Training (TnT) event. That was in 2001, it was the Santa Fe Century, and it was part of my reintroduction to the cycling life. I haven’t yet told about my second cycling trip out west, which just happened to be my second TnT event. This time we went to Lake Tahoe, and we rode in what they called America’s Most Beautiful Bike Ride. I have to admit, it was beautiful.

In 2001 we had a very cohesive local team. I considered each member to be a good friend and someone I would be happy to ride with any time. The 2002 group had a few members that repeated from 2001 (Rachel, Bob, Don, Kim, and of course our coach Chuck), but for some reason the new additions didn’t all gel, though a few did (like Tanya and Mark). Not to say we weren’t friendly, but we just weren’t a tight group.

Training rides told that tale. In 2001 we all showed up at every ride if possible. In 2002, some trained on their own for the most part. Oh well, c’est la vie.

We arrived in Reno and took a couple of vans to Lake Tahoe except for, well, Mrs. Guy and me. Mrs. Guy hadn’t been able to go in 2001, but this time we planned to take a few extra days in Tahoe after the event was over, so we went ahead and rented a car … a convertible car (sweet).

The team stayed at the Harvey Hotel right on the Nevada side of the state line with California. The Harvey had a casino on the level above the lobby. More on that later. We arrived two days before the ride, so we had time on Friday (arrival day) to find our bikes and put them together (we’d packed them up and shipped them ahead of us). I spent the longest at the assembly area, but that was because I had to help several of the others with their bikes (since I have some mechanical skills) along with a solo TnT rider from Memphis named Dave who joined our group to make one combined Tennessee chapter (we called him…Memphis Dave…). Some of us went ahead and did a very short ride just to make sure everything was adjusted well, then went to dinner and then went our own ways for the evening.

The next morning we all met (well, most of us) in the parking lot for a longer ride to acclimate a bit to the altitude. We rode the first 10-15 miles of the century route and back, getting only to the first major climb before turning around. After we got back, several of us planned on getting together to go exploring. After a shower (and waking up Mrs. Guy), we met Chuck, Kim, Rachel, Mark, Don, Tanya and Memphis Dave and went off to find a lunch spot and to take the gondola up to the Heavenly Ski Resort. There’s a picture somewhere of all of us up there, but I can’t find it right now.

That evening was the pre-ride TnT dinner, where they gave us several pep talks, thanked us for fundraising, awarded the top fundraisers, and sent us off to rest up for the next day. On the way out, there was a lady who was having problems with her bike adjustment and someone sent her to me for a fix. It took me all of 30 seconds to fix, but about 5 minutes to hear the story of how she was going to be on the Wheaties box in a few months (and she was…I saw it at the grocery store).

I got up early with the rest of the riders the next morning and got ready to go. Mrs. Guy slept in again, but she was meeting her Mom (who was then living in Carson City) for breakfast and then they were coming out in the convertible to find us.

The ride is huge, with hundreds of participants (I don’t know exactly how many). Because of this, they start people in waves by your assigned “start time”. Our “start time” was 8:15 am. We were ready at 7:30 am. They told us to wait. We did. We left at 7:35 am. It was Coach Chuck’s decision (one I wholeheartedly agreed with). The first 10-15 miles looked very familiar (imagine that) and we started the climb in a large group of people. We had been admonished the night before to ride single file up the climb past Emerald Bay. I think that the collective idea of “single file” for all of the riders on that particular stretch was “riding in a single lane without going over into oncoming traffic,” because that’s what was happening. Somehow Memphis Dave and I got ahead of the rest of our group (except for Bob’s nephew Graff, who came along for the ride). As we crested the top I heard a huge roar from about 20 or so people on the side of the road. “Wow, they seem to be enthusiastic about cheering for riders,” I said. “Oh,” said Memphis Dave, “That’s some of my family who came out to see me.” We stopped and said “Hi” while the rest of our group finished the climb.

We rode with most of our group into the first rest stop. Only 5 or 6 of us ended up riding out together. I was hoping to see Mrs. Guy there and was a little concerned when I was ready to leave and hadn’t seen her. Suddenly she drove up and let loose a great deal of frustration my way. “I just couldn’t believe it! Nobody was riding single file! I had to go around through the oncoming lane! And I couldn’t get back over half the time when someone was coming! They said last night to ride single file!!!”

“Um, yeah, well, you didn’t actually think that people would really ride single file back there did you? Don’t worry though; it won’t be nearly as bunched up after this point.”

We left quickly before Mrs. Guy could get going ranting again, but I could still feel her glare on my back for a good while.

End of Part I (it's getting kinda long, anyway). Besides, I need to do...

Trivia Answers for 5/25

1. What was the name of the last horse to win the American Triple Crown of Thoroughbred Horse Racing? This was quite some years ago, but I remember when Affirmed won the Triple Crown. Other answers I got included Seattle Slew, who did win the Triple Crown, but did it before Affirmed, and Secretariat who did it before Seattle Slew. Sorry, Honor, but it wasn't Lucky Charm, though Silver Charm did win the Derby and Preakness in 1997.

2. We know that Chuck Yeager was the first to officially break the speed of sound. What was the aircraft he did it in? He did it in the Bell X-1 on October 14th of 1947...officially. Turns out he might have done it on a previous flight. His previous air speed reading was Mach 0.997, but later tests showed that the instrument read low near supersonic speeds. The October 14th flight had a indicator reading of Mach 1.02, though more accurate ground measurements showed Mach 1.06. Another bit of trivia: Chuck broke several ribs riding horses two days before, but kept it a secret since he knew they wouldn't have let him fly.

3. Some pilots have nicknames for their planes (e.g., the Enola Gay or the Memphis Belle). What was Chuck's nickname for the aircraft in question #2? Chuck named his plane "Glamorous Glennis" after his wife, Glennis D. Yeager. Only LP got this one.

4. [One from Mrs. Guy] What is the only fruit that bears its seeds on the outside? Ah, the strawberry. I've always loved strawberries.

5. What was the name of the only horse to take second place in each of the American Triple Crown of Thoroughbred Horse Racing races (i.e., the Kentucky Derby, the Preakness, and the Belmont Stakes)? History has recorded many famous "always the bridesmaid" stories. Cycling's Tour de France has Raymond Poulidor and Jan Ullrich just to name two (though Jan did win the race once - before Lance came along - and may yet win it again...). In the Triple Crown there is only Alydar, who finished a close second to Affirmed in all three races. No horse ever did that before, nor has one done it since.

Bonus Question: How does Tigger say he spells "Tigger"? "Tee-Aye-Double Guh-Er. That's how you spell 'Tigger'!"

Extra Question For Absolutlely No Credit Whatsoever: Toe-may-toe or Toe-mah-toe? Well, there's no official right or wrong answer here, though I side with those who choose the first.

Don't forget that there's a new quiz from yesterday!

History Lesson

Tue, 16 May 2006 23:03:27 GMT

Once upon a time I used to race a bicycle every once in a while. Well, I guess I do now too, but lately it’s been a cyclocross race or a mountain bike race, and I know that I’m just pack fodder doing it for kicks. Back in the day, I was actually road racing and was often able to stay with the pack all the way to the finish, even though my lack of a blazing sprint usually left me out of the top ten finishers. Truthfully, I probably would have made a decent domestique had I been on a regular team, and I served in that role occasionally when I had other friends in the race who stood a chance of a good placing.

But I avoided criteriums. Why? Well, a lot of the guys I tended to race against were a little squirrelly in tight spaces and tight turns, and a criterium is pretty much just a series of tight spaces and tight turns. Honestly, I didn’t have a ton of confidence in my own ability to corner tightly in a group over and over and over. Most criteriums are races held around one or more city blocks, and the turns come fast and repeatedly. I probably would have done fine, but I just never really did it at all.

That said, I actually did compete in one criterium back in the early 1990’s, but it was a little different. It was held in Bristol, Tennessee, but instead of having the course run through downtown streets, the organizers arranged to have it held on the Bristol Motor Speedway. Any NASCAR fans out there? Then you’ve heard of BMS. For the rest of you, the oval at Bristol is shorter than most other NASCAR race tracks in that it is only a half-mile per lap. The turns on either end are very steep, and even the straightaway is sloped quite a bit.

I had recently joined a local team in the Knoxville area, but didn’t really know very many of the members. Still, when Mrs. Guy and I got to BMS that day I was happy to see that there were a good number of jerseys just like the brand new one I was wearing. I walked over and started talking to the one guy I recognized, and soon found out that I was the only one racing in my category (Cat. IV). So much for my plan of marketing myself as a team player. I was on my own in a field of 40 or so riders. Fortunately, there weren’t more than two or three guys from any other teams within my field, so it looked pretty open.

The Cat. IV race was to be either 18 or 20 miles (I’ve forgotten which), thus we were to do 36 or 40 laps. Typical of the lower category races, this one started out fast and furious. I took up a position in the front half of the group, fearing being caught out in the eventual split of the field. Within 10 laps, almost half of the field was already gone and the rest of us settled into a high, but sustainable pace. At around the half-way point some guys started getting antsy and started attacking the field. We let them go each time, and each time they had blown up (bonked, hit the wall, et cetera) within a lap and got spit out the back of the race.

Then one of the guys I’d pegged as looking strong gave it a go up the left side. I’d been watching him and wanted to try to go with him, but I was blocked out from following his wheel since I was just coming off a pull and was drifting back on the right of the group. I had missed the move and hadn’t recovered enough to chase onto his wheel, but three other guys were able to match him and go. I just had to hope that he’d gone too soon and that the rest of the group would catch them before the finish.

Two laps later one of the guys that had followed his wheel bonked hard and we went past him so fast he looked like he was going backwards. I started thinking that the time to catch the breakaway had come, so I moved up toward the front and helped push the pace a little. With four laps to go, the front three were still almost a quarter-lap ahead of us and we weren’t gaining any on them. Still, I wanted to keep pushing just in case they came unglued, and a few of the other guys in the pack were working with me.

Working with me, that is, until we had two laps to go. I had just finished taking a pull and pulled to the side to let the group come by. Nobody came by. What the ??? I looked back to make sure I hadn’t pulled away. I hadn’t. They were all right there, sitting in line behind me. “Hey!! Somebody come up here and pull already!” Nope. I slowed a little. They stayed behind me. “#%*&!!! It’s too early for these games!!!” Still nothing. One lap to go, one half of a mile, and everyone was lining up behind me expecting me to lead them all in.

I was so mad I barely registered the first guy come past me on the right. By the time I reacted, I was ninth in a line of … nine?!? I’d looked back quickly to see who else was there, but I was it. Here I was, last in line, the three leaders were already sprinting out first through third, and I was … LAST IN LINE!!! NO!!! NOT GONNA HAPPEN!!! NO WAY AM I FINISHING LAST AFTER ALL THIS!!!

We were really moving along now. There was a half-lap left and I’d barely made it onto the back of the line. I did a quick assessment. Last in line, tired, not known for my field sprinting ability, but MAD AS HELL!!! The moment we hit the center of the curve at the end of the track (1/8^th-mile to go), I put my head down and started stomping on the pedals as hard as I could. I wasn’t really even looking to see where I was going. I was just going on rage. That I didn’t plow right into the back of anyone was a pure miracle. Somehow I sensed that the finish line was close and looked sideways just in time to throw the bike forward at the line next to another guy doing the same.

Then I looked up. There was…one guy in front of me, one guy beside me, and … six behind me. Well, not too bad, I guess, but the question was, did I come in 5^th, or 6^th? I didn’t know. The guy I finished next to didn’t know. Some bystanders had opinions, but didn’t really know. We circled back to the finish line official, and he … didn’t know. “Too close to call. You guys tied for 5^th.” There was a medal for each of the first five places, but I didn’t really care about it so I let the other guy have it. Besides, he was a pretty nice guy.

I walked up into the stands to go sit with Mrs. Guy and watch the Cat. III and then the Pro/I/II races. While we were sitting there she leaned over and said “I know you had your head down, but I really wish you could have seen it.”

“Huh? Seen what?”

“Your sprint. It was like Moses parting the Red Sea. Those guys were just moving over to get out of your way.”

“Huh?”

“I guess they were afraid of getting run over. You sounded like a freight train coming through, so loud I could hear you from up here. If you’d had another 15 or 20 yards, you might have taken 4^th.”

“Really? Well, I’ll take what I got and be happy enough, I guess. But thanks.”

I started thinking then that I should try getting mad at all of my races…

Redeemed

Sun, 14 May 2006 02:20:37 GMT

Yesterday was a wasted cycling day, but I was unexpectedly able to make up for it a little bit today. The only bad part of my ride was the snub, but I'll get to that in a moment.

Mrs. Guy got in late yesterday evening and today we have a party to attend in Kingsport for the couple who got married in Mexico a few weeks ago (basically so the people who couldn't go can come say "Hey" or whatever else they might say). I figured we'd leave around noon, and I knew that I wouldn't have time to do all the stuff I'd need to do to get ready to leave and go for a ride. However, when Mrs. Guy announced that there was no way she'd be ready to leave until after 3:00pm (which turned into after 5:00 pm), I saw an opportunity.

One of my tasks was to take the two younger dogs to the clinic for boarding (the older dog gets to go with us). I loaded up my bike and put the dogs in the car, drove to the clinic to drop off the dogs, and then drove out to Anchor Park for a ride of about one hour (had I known just how late we'd actually be leaving, I'd have ridden for two hours, but c'est la vie).

I used to ride from Anchor Park all the time. Back in the early 90's, Jon N. and I would go over there at least once a week to ride. After I got back into cycling in 2001, I would go ride there at least a couple of times each month. It's not too far away (6 miles), and there isn't too much traffic on those roads. One of the local clubs used to host rides from there on Wednesday evenings and Saturday mornings, so there was always someone to ride with. When I joined my bike club, SCO, I started doing more rides from downtown Knoxville, but I still would go to Anchor Park every once in a while. Ultimately it just tapered off. I don't think I rode there at all last year.

There are a lot of ride options there. The short loop is about 15 miles and doesn't include any major climbing. The longest loop includes three or four serious cardiac-limit climbs that approach up to a 20% grade, and there isn't really an upper limit on distance you can go. I decided today that since it was windy, I only had an hour, and it's only my second foray on the bike since the plate-ectomy, I'd do the shorter loop. At least, that was the plan. I was a little bit bad.

I started the ride going into the wind, which if you are riding in windy conditions, it's best to start into it and have a tailwind on the way back. I rode at a pretty reasonable pace, and by the time I hit the turnaround on Lakeside Drive (so named since it is next to the lake), I had averaged about 15 miles/hour. I should have turned around then. Probably. But knowing that I was going to be benefitting from a stout tailwind on the way back, I somehow let down my guard and let the sirens call me up "Cry For Your Mama" hill.

Most times I've ridden with a group out there, the group turns around at the bottom of CFYM Hill and backtracks along Lakeside Drive. Depending on how I feel and how sunny and hot it might be, I usually talk some stalwarts in the pack into going up the hill and catching the group back on the loop around from the top about half of the time. Of all of the climbs on the various routes from Anchor Park, this one is the steepest for the longest. It often requires riders to start snaking up it at some point or another along the climb.

I knew I wasn't supposed to go up. My doctor said I should avoid out-of-the-saddle stuff for a few weeks. But I went. Shame on me. Here's the thing; I did fine. No stress on the shoulders. I was even able to climb without snaking at all, though I will say that the breeze through the trees, and the shade from the trees, was enough to keep me from getting too hot on the climb. I'm usually drenched in sweat at the top, but not today.

I headed back toward the Park at that point. I saw about seven solo riders on the way back and waved at all of them. They all waved back ... except one. One guy. Just one. Just one guy wearing the same bike club jersey that I was wearing ... this year's jersey. I didn't know him by sight, so I'll guess that he's one of those guys that never shows up at meetings or volunteers at events. Man, even the guys wearing jerseys from other teams waved, and I get snubbed by a teammate. Hmm.

After I rode past the golf course, I headed back on Harvey Road, which is a slight incline for about a mile and a half. But that's also where I picked up the tailwind, so I was flying along and looked down at one point to see "27.5 mph" on the computer. Wow. Then I hit the flats and went a little faster. I still wasn't really riding 'hard'. I turned onto Turkey Creek and lost the wind for a few moments, but picked it up again and flew along the final stretch back to the car. When I got there, I had an average speed of 18.5 mph. Now remember that I had a 15 mph average at the halfway point, and then climbed up the major climb. And I still averaged 18.5 mph.

That, my friends, is the true benefit of a tailwind, and thus ends the story of this week's redemption.

Post Script: It's almost 5:30 pm, Mrs. Guy still isn't ready, it takes at least 90 minutes to drive to Kingsport, and the party starts at 7:00 pm. Also, we'll have the dog, so we'll need to drop her off at my parent's house on the far side of town from the party on the way, adding...oh, say...25 to 30 minutes. Think we'll be on time?

Post Post Script: We decided to leave the dog in the car (with windows partially open, of course) since the car was shaded from the sun, so we didn't go to my parent's house first. We still didn't make it on time.

Renewal

Wed, 10 May 2006 01:52:05 GMT

Ah, back on the bike...

But first, I had to go to work today for the first time since April 20th. Bummer, but I guess it had to be done. I got to work only to find out that our Project Manager is on vacation (to go see his son graduate college), my direct supervisor is out for the rest of the week (health issues with his Mom), and I have training for the rest of the week except for four hours tomorrow morning. Welcome back, indeed. Still, the day went better than I thought it would, and I almost got all the way through my backlog of email before leaving for Physical Therapy (I only ten minutes early, though).

Therapy was interesting. When I had the surgery, the doctor initially scheduled me for three sessions per week for three weeks (nine total). At my first session, the therapist cut me back to twice a week for three weeks (six total). At my second session she told me I was done with range of motion and that I needed to start on strengthening, so my doctor told me yesterday that my remaining four sessions would be concentrating on that. Today, at my third session, my therapist told me that my next session would be my last (four total). I'm just waiting now for someone to call and tell me not to bother coming back in. Now that's progress.

So after I got home from PT, I walked and fed the dogs, changed into cycling gear, loaded the bike in the back of the car, and headed for The Boulevard to meet Ron for a nice easy pedalling session (after all, I've been off the bike for three weeks now). I tried to get John B. or John H. to come out, but John B. had band practice for one of the four or so bands he's in these days, and John H. was going out to dinner with his fiancee and another mutual friend, Duane.

The doctor told me to keep it easy pace and no out-of-the-saddle stuff for a couple of weeks, and today was right in line with that. Ron and I kept a pace somewhere around 16.5 to 17 mph for 22 miles, joined for the last 4 or 5 miles by Jeremy. Conversation and people-watching were the orders of the day today, and it was a thoroughly enjoyable ride. Oh, and to the redhead jogging in the black shorts and the blue top, thanks, and you have the same smile that I imagine the angels have. (Ain't people -watching grand?) The unfortunate part of people-watching was noticing just how many cyclist down there were riding around without helmets (AKA, organ donors, and there were at least five of them). After all, I am the unofficial poster child for helmet use, having broken two in the span of two years.

If only they made helmets for collarbones...

Good Day Sunshine

Sat, 15 Apr 2006 02:35:03 GMT

And what a day it was. Just beautiful. And I got to be out in it on the bicycle (remembering the sunscreen today).

The original plan was for John B. and me (and possibly a few others) to go to Kingsport and ride the trails at Warriors Path State Park as a Hooky Ride. That didn’t pan out, mostly because John had minor surgery last week and didn’t feel that mountain biking was a great idea. We switched plans around and decided to go ride in the Sequatchie Valley west of Knoxville.

John said he and Raul would meet me here at the house today at around 10:00 to 10:30 am. John called me at 10:05 am to tell me Raul wouldn’t be joining us, and that the Sequatchie ride was a little longer than he’d thought when he scaled it off on the map; about 65 miles. Neither of us felt comfortable with that distance, so we decided I’d head over to his house and we’d go ride from Midway Road east of town around Douglas Lake.

I picked up John around 11:00 am, and we headed off to the Midway Road exit off of I-40, where we parked and started getting ready to ride. “Aw, %*&#!!!” said John.

“What?”

“I forgot my cycling clothes. I’m sorry. Man, I feel stupid.”

I just laughed. It’s not like I’d never forgotten anything, and besides, it wasn’t that far back to his house anyway. We drove back and decided along the way to just ride from there instead of driving back out.

We started out by riding over to Raul’s to see what was going on with him. He wasn’t there, but Gabriella said he’d gone out early with some triathlon buddies. She wouldn’t let us leave until she took a couple of pictures of us out in front of their house with the tulips. Apparently our jerseys complimented them.

Riding from John’s is always interesting. I haven’t ridden from there so much that I know all of the roads around there, but we always end up popping out on other roads that I do know once in a while. It helps me connect the pieces of the map in my head, I guess.

I didn’t really notice that we started out with a tail wind, but we must have. We turned from going east to start looping around south and west, and ran into a really strong headwind. We battled that headwind for the next 15 to 20 miles. It took a lot out of us, but more out of John, I think (after all, his surgery was just a week ago). By the time we turned north again, he didn’t quite look as sharp. About 5 miles from his house he mentioned starting to feel a little bonky. I think what helped me was the fig <major brand name> cookies that I’d eaten at mile 20. Still, we made it back OK, and neither of us was suffering greatly.

We arrived back at the house, took showers to rinse off, and then headed over to Gus’s by the UT campus for cheeseburgers (a chili cheeseburger for me). John was craving one, and I was quite willing to go along on that one.

I drove back home, took a nap for an hour, got up, mowed the front lawn (the back lawn has been torn up by re-landscaping right now), and went out to dinner with Mrs. Guy.

Great ride. Great day. A Good Friday.

OK, people, there are two trivia questions still unanswered for this week. Did I make them too hard? You tell me.

I hope to post the last two week's trivia answers tomorrow. Sorry I forgot last week, but I was on the road, after all.

Feel The Burn

Mon, 03 Apr 2006 01:33:55 GMT

I finally got a decent ride in yesterday. Well, at least for the first 25 miles, that is. I had decided to try again to pick up the station wagon at the mechanic’s shop. I went ahead first and traded cars back out so the station wagon would be the one there. Having done that, I set out on a long loop that would ultimately bring me back to the car.

I was having a pretty good ride. I started out riding into the wind, but I felt pretty good so it wasn’t really the drag (pun intended) that it might normally be. I took several hills to get some really good cardio workouts in, including one I’d never tried before but had heard about. It was a tough climb, followed by another tough climb, but I was able to do it well enough considering I’ve not been on the road bike much yet this year.

I turned back toward town and had the wind at my back for the most part. I caught up with another group of cyclists when I turned onto the same road they were on, but it was only about 150 yards later that they turned off to the left and I went straight. I was alone on the bike other than that.

I’d made it back into the outer edge of town and was planning on turning left at a particular light when Mrs. Guy called on my cell phone. She was traveling back from Orlando yesterday and was calling to let me know her flights were running on time. I had pulled into a parking lot to take her call, and was still talking to her when I happened to hear a horn and squealing brakes from back out on the road. I turned around just in time to witness a fender-bender. One car (SUV) was traveling east on the main road. Another car (White) traveling east had gotten into the turn lane in order to go north at the intersection. Yet another car (Pink) wanted to pull out across the road from a parking lot on the south side of the road to turn and go west. White car knew Pink car and motioned for her to come on across in front of her. Pink car did, but right into the path of SUV. Pink was almost out of the way, but SUV tagged the rear corner, ripping the bumper off.

I got off the phone with Mrs. Guy and called 911 after first looking to see that everyone seemed to be OK (but it wasn’t a big hit, so injury was unlikely anyway). 911 said they would dispatch someone and asked if I would stay as witness. “Yeah, OK”, I said, as I’d planned to do that anyway.

We got the cars over into a parking lot (the same one I’d been in) and Pink admitted her fault right off (kudos for her). There were about six girls there in all, two from SUV, three from Pink, and one from White. All were high school to college age, and all were fine, though SUV was really upset (near tears). Calls were made and parents and boyfriends started showing up left and right. SUV’s dad explained that she’d only had the car for two weeks. One of the passengers in Pink’s car was very pretty – tall and athletic – but she had a mouth on her that would have made a sailor blush, and she seemed intent on running it at full speed. I was really happy when she decided to leave when Pink’s friend-with-truck showed up to take her rear bumper home for her.

The time of the accident was around 1:15 pm. It had been overcast when I left home, and I figured I’d be OK without sunscreen for a 35-40 mile ride on a cloudy day. I was at 25 miles at the scene, and after about 10 minutes, the sun decided to make an appearance. I didn’t think much of it, figuring that the Sheriff would be along any minute. I stood out in the sun (there was no local shade) with all of the players present for about an hour-and-a-half waiting, waiting, waiting… all the while knowing that I’d irrevocably lost the lovely grove I’d been in on the bike.

One of the girls noticed a Tennessee Highway Patrol car go by and stop at the red light. “I bet that he’s looking for us. He just went past us! What do we do now?” As one, everyone turned and looked at me. “Yeah, I’ll go chase him down.”

I caught him just around the corner, and sure enough, he’d been looking for us. I directed him back to where we were and we went back. He got all the info from Pink and SUV that he needed (drivers license, insurance card, registration) and hoped back into his cruiser – and stayed there for about 15 minutes. He finally got back out, handed their stuff back to them, handed out other forms and a citation for Pink, and then asked for witnesses. I raised my hand, as did White. “Oh,” he said, “I should have gotten your statements first and you guys could have left.” I would have said something, but White was already staring daggers at him. She was over an hour late for work by then.

So, two hours after the accident, I finally got to leave. My plan had been to ride an extra fifteen miles around and back to the car, but I decided to bag that and just ride the five miles straight back at that point. I did that, loaded up the bike and went home and waited on Mrs. Guy to get home.

She came in the door at around 5:40 pm and said “Ooh, you look like you got a little too much sun today.” I hadn’t even thought about it while standing out there for two hours, but a look at my arms and legs confirmed that I was almost as pink as Pink’s car. Darn that sense of civic responsibility.

Long Day

Fri, 31 Mar 2006 04:26:17 GMT

My day started at 5:00 am and as of right now at 11:00 pm it's still going. But it was a farily good day with few exceptions.

I got to leave work early today to attend a seminar at the University of Tennessee. From previous experience I know that parking at UT on a weekday afternoon is nearly impossible, so I parked at my church and rode my singlespeed (used to be a geared Trek 950) over to the seminar. The seminar started late and went long, was boring as could be, and they wasted about 15 minutes at one point trying to get a video to play on the computer through PowerPoint (dude didn't realize that if he links to a file, it helps to have that file. I tried to tell him, but he was rather..., well, dim or pig-headed. Not positive which one). They never got it going (big surprise).

I left there in the middle of downtown rush hour thanks to all that, and was a little hurried getting something to eat (to go) and getting down to the Bike Zoo so I could change into my cycling clothing before they closed. I ended up cramming down my sandwich while driving. I'm lucky I didn't end up wearing it.

I drove the car over to the church where our Movie Night was going to be and rode to Cherokee Boulevard (AKA "The Boulevard") and met up with a bunch of others to ride laps. Derek, Wally, Jason, Jeannie, Steve, T-Flo, and others I didn't know rode a bunch of laps, and by the time I got back to the church I'd gone just over 20 miles.

More people showed up for Movie Night. I think we had over 20 there. We watched "The Triplets of Belleville". If you haven't seen it, I recommend it emphatically. I'd say less than half of us had seen it before, but the ones of us who had have seen it multiple times.

Yeah, I'd say that was a good day, overall.

Trivia Time

Don't forget The Rules (oh, those pesky rules...).

1. Cinnabar is a mineral that is refined to obtain what element?

2. Who invented the corn flake?

3. What group was formed by Professor Charles Xavier?

4. What event that changed the world occured on July 16th, 1945?

5. What two bodies of water are connected by the Suez Canal?

Bonus Question: What was Billy Crystal doing in "Spinal Tap"?

A Little More TdG '03

Fri, 24 Mar 2006 00:24:18 GMT

OK, I promised to tell the story of the second quote I got from Jonathan Vaughters. This happened later on the same day that I stopped the race (see previous post). The original breakaway had been absorbed by the time we got to our next deployment spots (they were really only after the sprint points), and a new break had gone off the front. I was standing next to a little road out in the middle of nowhere next to a little side road that saw absolutley zero traffic the whole time I was there. The section of road that was the course was straight as an arrow for a mile in each direction from me, and at a slight downward angle. The racers also had a slight tailwind.

The first rider, Lionel Syne, came whipping past me at a good clip, but I had time to read his race number to figure out who he was (they'd given us sheets matching rider numbers to names in case we saw blatant cheating - we never did, but it helped us know who was who). Jonathan Vaughters and Mike Dubberley came flying past me going even faster about four minutes later. I figured that with two guys working together, they'd catch Syne easily.

The peloton came by a few minutes later, with the Prime Alliance boys (Vaughters' teammates) near the front controlling the pace. I thought at this point that Jonathan might have a chance for the stage win if the rest of the peloton was slow to react and if the other two worked with him to stay away. I figured that as the team's GC guy, he wouldn't take a chance like that without thinking he could make it stick.

Chris described what happened next pretty well here (text between 4th and 5th photos), so I won't re tell that except to say say that the experience rocked like a quarry on Gibralter.

We missed our last deployment spots, so we went straight to the finish to watch. They did a finishing circuit in Rome, so they came by four times, sprinting hard the last time. I noticed that JV was conspicuously absent from the front for the two laps we saw. "Fast Freddie" Rodriguez won in an exciting, if wet, final bunch sprint. Jonathon finished about 5 minutes back.

Dinner that night was sponsored by the City of Rome, so we all got to eat together in a large civic center-type facility (thanks again, Rome). I talked to several riders and team officials, and again saw Jonathan Vaughters (the man was super-gracious about talking to people, I must say). We talked about what his strategy had been that day, how everything played out, that I was the one who stopped the race at LaGrange ("I thought that was you"), and even reflected briefly on his time loss on the first day. I told him that I'd been pulling for him to win the stage. "Yeah," he said with a shrug of his shoulders,...

"You race for first, but sometimes you come in twenty-third" - Jonathan Vaughters (I don't know where he got the 'twenty-third' number from, because he wasn't on that day or any other during the TdG, but that's what he said.)

Trivia Time

OK, you've (possibly) worked hard all week up to now, so you (might) deserve a fun little break from drugdery (we'll assume that you do). The best I can give you though, is this...

1. What Broadway musical comedy was adapted from the fairy tale “The Princess and the Pea”?

2. What beer is represented by the symbol "XX"?

3. What is the name for the type of symbol shown below?

4. On September 11, 1297, William Wallace and Andrew de Moray led a force of Scots in battle against the Earl of Surrey’s forces at the Battle of Stirling Bridge. What did Stirling Bridge cross over?

5. What world-famous piece of music begins with the following notes?

Tomorrow I answer Mocha's challenge (and hope to remember to post last week's trivia answers).