My Top Five Rides of 2010

Season's Greetings!
Here in the depths of my time away from cycling I eat and be lazy and enjoy.

But as is my tradition as 2010 winds down, I like to post my list of my top five rides of the past season, a season that saw fewer miles for me but no less fun for sure.

So here they are, my favorite five rides...and the number one ride of the year comes as a total surprise, to even me!



#5 The Madone Mike Ride- 
Much of the season had already gone by when this ride finally happened, and I guess that is part of what made it special. Back in the depths of winter while working out on the trainer in my basement I posted a PhilCast podcast show of nothing more than me on the bike going through my Carmichael 45-minute routine. 

A PhilCast listener named Mike heard the show and sent me an email. He explained how much he enjoyed hearing the unique show. He went on to tell me how he couldn't wait to try it himself, but wait he must. You see his doctor told him he needed to put on more weight before starting more serious training. He was coming back from cancer treatments. I mailed him back promising that we would ride together this season...to hang in there and fight the good fight meantime.


Well, time slipped by and for one reason or another we did not hook up until late in the season. I knew I had to keep my promise. I knew that my riding season would not be complete and that I would kick myself if I let him and myself down by not being a man of my word.


But late in the season we hooked up for a ride. We rode much longer than anticipated, ending up going out to Wales and back on a sunny day. We chatted for much of the ride on the way out, then got busy on the ride home. But me, not having training in my legs, suffered some nasty cramping for about the last 10 miles of the 40-something mile ride. I was off the gas, but it didn't matter. The ride was being put in the books. A promise kept.



#4 My Second Solo Century Ride- 
I always thought that an accomplishment as big as this one would merit being high on this list, perhaps even number one. Yet somehow, the sheer physical accomplishment it represents for me doesn't hold up to the rides that had a high emotional factor for me. A solo century is a very personal thing. It's you, the bike, the road, and perhaps most-importantly your will to keep going.


This day I rode out to my lake place where I re-fuel in a short stop and then head back, trying to pace myself and my food and water consumption for the long haul. I remember the biggest issue with this ride came at the end. Round-trip out there and back showed 80 miles on my computer. Drat. I knew this was coming. I had to ride past my house and put 20 miles on to hit the magic number. Those were tough miles, especially the last 10 or so. Never have I seen an odometer turn so slowly. 


But in the end I was able to grind it out, an all-day affair that finally clicked over to a 100-mile ride, the second solo century of my riding career.




#3 The PhilCast Group Ride- 
In the end this ride is what cycling is supposed to be all about isn't it? Fun. We gathered a couple dozen riders of all levels, from hammers to beginners to ride through the countryside on a beautiful summer afternoon. My wife Sandy led a group of listeners on a shorter route while I led a group on a slightly-longer route. Afterward we all gathered for lunch and stories outside at Backyard Bikes in LaGrange. Great day all around.



#2 The Lois Dedication Ride- 
This should have been #1. Never ever did I think that any ride could top this one, a ride that had it all really. I packed my bike and gear and took it on an annual trip to the Waupaca area where we visit each July for the Iola Old Car Show. That would be on Friday, and this year Saturday would be a day to ride for Lois. No need for details here, but Lois was a long-time good friend who ran an inn where we stayed for years. We attended her funeral in March. Cancer took her from us way too early.


That Saturday was sunny and hot. I watched that morning's stage of the Tour de France and could hardly contain myself as I got ready to take on this dedication ride. I had it in my mind that today I would attempt a solo century in honor of Lois, riding through pine bluff after pine bluff on roads I had never been on before. This was going to be an adventure. Little did I know.


I rode early-on with great emotion. It was as if I could sense Lois in my shadow appreciating my effort and thoughts. At times I had goose-bumps just thinking about the memories of many many summer visits with her on this annual trip.  Sure I had a detailed map I had planned out, but maps lie and about 25 miles in I was lost. No worries, I had a general idea of where I was and would make this work.


I stopped in a small-town tavern to get water and continued on, noticing now that by mid-afternoon there seemed to be some sort of line in the sky in the distance. Was it smoke from a fire? Was it haze. Was it there at all? Yes, it was. As the miles clicked off the line got closer. CRAP...that's a line of storms! It came on fast, going from brilliant hot sunshine to dark nasty clouds. 


Somehow I had the smarts to turn around at one point and head back to another town I had passed through earlier. I knew there would be shelter there, when the path I was on would have none. Winds gusted so hard that several times I heard large limbs snap. I was, for the first time ever, really worried on a bike. Just as some hail pellets started to fall in that wind I could see a gas station on the outskirts of town. I made it safe and sound. The storm unleashed. There was flooding in Waupaca that afternoon and tree limbs down too. 


The new owner of the inn had to drive out and rescue me from the storm. It was not the ending I wanted. It was 50-some miles instead of 100, and a dedication ride with an ending I won't soon forget.




#1 The Chain Ride- 
Never would I have thought THIS would be the number one ride of my season. But here it is, a little non-eventful, routine 26 miles on a route that I have done as training hundreds of times. But this time it really meant something to me.

I had found a worn spot on the rear tire of my Madone. Now, not being one who is any good at changing tires on my own, I just took the rear wheel off and took it over to Rainbow Jersey. It would be a chance to visit my friends there and have them outfit me with a new tire. My personal meltdown came when I got home.

As I began to put the rear wheel on I started to struggle with it. Keep in mind this is a task I have done plenty of times before with no issues. But this time for some reason I struggled. The more I fumbled with the greasy chain the bigger mess I was making, both on me and the bike. My hands were like blocks of wood. The bike seemed to have a mind of its own, twisting and turning to fight me. Then my brain shut down. I tried to envision where things were supposed to be going, but the more I tried the bigger mess I made.

I snapped.

I quit. I literally threw everything down and walked away from the bike in disgust. I was mad at myself. I sent a note to my friend and coach Jerry at Rainbow Jersey explaining what happened. I asked if he could drop over to help me the following week when he had time. It pained me to have to ask that. I felt like an idiot. I felt like I didn't deserve to call myself a cyclist. I really let myself down.

That night I had trouble sleeping. I was really bothered by all this. My bike, a bike I'm now thinking I don't even deserve, was sitting out there all full of grease with no wheel on it. And I'm to blame. All I could do was wait for help like a little baby.

The next day I mustered up the courage (I had thought about attempting it again but told myself, 'who are you kidding') to give it a try again by late afternoon. I couldn't get it out of my brain.

I went into the garage and saw the heap of a mess and really didn't have much hope. Something made me try anyway. I did it. I got the wheel back on. But did I do it right? I went for a test ride at a time when I thought I would never be able to ride this bike until I got help putting it back together.

Everything worked perfectly.

I rode that 26-mile route with an excitement I don't think I have ever felt before. I did it. I didn't need help. I did it!

To this day I have no idea why I blacked out that why. Like I said, I've changed out the rear wheel many times on my own with no issue. When I explained all this to Jerry he simply told me it has even happened to him. He blames age. You just go blank. It's true I guess, because I have no other explanation for what happened.

All I know is the feeling I had on that bike that day after overcoming the whole incident on my own....priceless....and it's my #1 ride of the 2010 season.

Have a great holiday season and the trainer posts will begin here after the first of the year when I get my motivation back to start it all again for 2011.