The Curative Power of a Hard Ride

Skies this morning where questionable to say the least. It seemed impending doom in the form of the promised thunderstorms where going to wipe out the ride. Optimism reigned supreme though as the rain held off and a handful of us ventured out for a loop Ric Nolan put together taking us to Amanda and back. Alas, the presumed excuse of “too bad it; going to rain” could not be used.

Rewind to the night before and witness the wonder of what was The Deckers 10th wedding anniversary. My son along with the Decker children planned this elaborate celebrations inviting the neighborhood over for a rather eclectic selection of food. Assignments ranged Chicken pot pie to watermelon. The parents took it upon themselves to furnish choice liquids for which we all partook in copious quantity.

Unlike my neighborhood peers though, I was destined to get up for an 8 am ride the next day which brings us back the ride this morning. They say moderation is the key to most things in life. Well, I guess I’m an experiential based learner. We rolled out as a group, all the while I was chanting “I will never drink again….I will never drink again…”. My peloton friends seemed less than convinced of my sincerity.

Apart from the struggles of biking through a hangover, the overcast skies proved to be perfect to get the 40 mile loop in before the phantom rains would arrive. As it turned out, no rain did come and we remained dry. Many of the regulars for the ride either had similar nights to my own or banked on rain. Those of you reading, you know which camp you fall in…don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.

One of the more curious things to witness happened on the way down to Amanda. I’m sure we’ve all seen or read stories about the noble family dog dutifully retrieving the newspaper to the waiting master on the front porch of the house. Personally, I subscribed to the theory that this was simply an urban legend, a tale told by the Type A dog trainer designed to make us regular pet owners feel inadequate in our ability to train even the most intelligent of pets. However, this fine morning a witnessed the quintessential Norman Rockwell scene of the noble Golden retriever running out to get the newspaper. In shock and awe, I slowed down to see the inconceivable happen only to have reality crash down as I approached. You see, as the Golden Retriever reached the newspaper, the proud owner, smiling at first, flew from the confines of her porch as her dog eviscerated the Sunday paper. Columbus Dispatch 0, Lassie 1. If only Norman where here to paint this scene.

The remainder of the ride saw the group break into a fast paced section, and a slower paced group. The effects of the high humidity translated into saturation of sweat from head to toe. The rain would have been welcome, at least it would wash the insect impregnated sweat from our arms and legs. One thing that always happens though, regardless of the destination, is the curative power of hard work on the bike. You always come back refreshed, if not tired. The meditative state of cycling lets you focus and center on issues of consequence in your life, be that love, laughing or learning. It’s what keeps me coming back, that and seeing others people’s pets misbehave.

Join us Tuesday when our hero’s tackle Canal Winchester again.

Back in the Saddle

Roy's Desk

I know it has been a while since I have posted but wanted to get back in habit again. Several things have kept me from writing as of late, both personal and professional in nature. The onslaught of work (up to 80 hours per week) and other matters have complicated spare time to say the least.

However, Bob Nolan, a regular of my Sunday Canal Winchester Ride sent in the following link:

http://www.getoutzine.com/node/376

Bob and a few other riders where quoted by the folks at Get Out! E-zine. Way to make a favorable impression guys!

This Sunday look for another 50 or so mile ride. Bring your wallet for brunch and your bike for fun!

Thanks Folks,
Bikerdude

TOSRV 2008

Almost every person can remember a moment in their childhood in which there was a before and an after. An event that defined a moment in time that would become in itself, timeless. Saturday, May 10th, 2008 during the 47th annual Tour of Scioto River Valley became such a moment for my son, Owen, all of 8 years old attempting his first overnight bike tour.

For those considered “Adult” (at least in age), the modesty of completing a half TOSRV over two days seems insignificant. The distance and the challenge seem trivial until you consider that to an 8 year old, who is only 62 lbs, the idea of riding a bike that far and staying away from home is a very big deal indeed. Add to the mix that 3000 other people are doing the same thing, well, you get the picture.

The buildup to this years ride was special indeed. For the first time, Owen was old enough and tall enough to ride our family tandem without the aide of a stoker kit. For those unfamiliar with the device, this adds a second set of pedals above the existing crankset for the stoker to allow shorter legs to reach the pedals. Indeed, with the seat all the way down and the captains seat so far in the air, our tandem looks more like a bit part in a schriner’s parade then a serious road going bicycle. At 56 inches, some 20 inches represents the height differential between father and son.

Roy and Owen starting in Chillicothe (note height difference)

The logistics this year included a bike switch at Chillicothe to facilitate Owen’s goal of a half TOSRV with his daddies goal of a full. Dad would ride from Columbus to Chillicothe on his single bike (Half bike for you tandem fanatics) then ride the rest of the way to Portsmouth on the tandem with child. The exercise worked well on paper and in practice I’m happy to report. As it turns out, mother nature would cooperate at least one of the days.

Columbus to Circleville
Unlike many “race” events on TV, TOSRV no longer employs a mass start for safety reasons. When the tour got too busy in the 70’s, it was decided that “show-n-go” was the best way to safely start several thousand riders on the 105 mile course. The luggage trucks stand at the ready starting at 6am to take bags to Portsmouth. I loaded the bags for both Owen and I and set out with a group of friends at about 8 am.

Mitch at Circleville stuffing his face

As mentioned before, mother nature smiled on TOSRV for at least Saturday. Beautiful skys, warm temperatures and best of all, a wonderful tailwind pushed riders toward the south at a higher than normal pace. After leaving Columbus, Cindy, Randy and yours truly settled into a nice 25-27 mph pace, breakneck by our standards but comfortable. With such a wonderful tailwind, Circleville came fast, just over an hour. What would normally be an unsustainable pace made us all feel like Lance Armstrong thanks to our friend, Mr. Tailwind.

Elements of Team Roll : Amanda (far right) and company

Circleville to Chillicothe
After a bite to eat, some casual conversation with some folks we picked up along the way and a refill of the waterbottles, we where back on the move toward Chillicothe at the same pace we managed on the first leg. Our averages climbed even more as we grabbed onto Team UDF passing us at 27-28 mph. We hung on for the distance and blew into Chillicothe in record time, average speed into the mid 20’s.

The arrival into Chillicothe spelled the end of the high speed runs as I recognized the need to let Owen have fun, see the scenery and recognize the fact that a tandem is a hellava lot heavier than a racing bike. My expectations for speed were level set at low to mid teens, after all he is only 8.

Chillicothe to Waverly

As we rolled into Chili, their was a festive atmosphere about the area. A live band was playing in the park, thousands of bikers where camped out eating the provided lunch and lunch was being served at 10:30 am. The speed runs to this point proved for an exceptionally early lunch. A certain anxiety also was present in a certain little boy.

The site of thousands of bikes moving in and out of the park proved to be quite intimidating. Reassurances from Dad and seeing some of dad’s friends from weekday rides helped allay and concerns (combined with a good lunch). By 11:45, we where off toward Waverly with a fresh stoker and considerably more mass. The first hills coming out of Chili proved not as daunting as expected, maintaining a respectable 18 mph and noted contributions from the set of 8 year old legs.

As we completed our first hill and turned onto Three Locks Road, we settled into a pace around 20 mph, something I thought would be unsustainable for us with such a heavy bike. As it turns out, the pace would be improved on, let alone sustained. The hill and dale of three locks road and the roll-up to Waverly would be quite generous. The downhill’s would put us at the mid 30’s while the momentum would maintain our speed so we only dropped out of the mid teens a few times. Overall, we maintained a 21.5 mph average, far above my expectations.

Owen, as it turns out, a wolf in sheeps clothing and his dad

The speed took it’s toll though. At School house hill, a Ham radio sign reeled off the distance left to the next rest stop, 7 miles. Latching on to this stat, my son then began to ask every 100 yards how much farther it was. After the 7th time asking, it was determined that the stoker was running out of gas. Waverly could not come too soon for a bonky little boy.

Waverly to Portsmouth

We rolled into White Lake, the official rest stop after countless cruel denials for Wendy’s, McDonalds, Dairy Queen and every other fast food Join that was on route 23 leading up to the turn off for the rest stop. One would have thought of me as Daddy dearest with a wire coat hanger for my unwavering commitment to TOSRV’s 3rd rest stop. As it turns out, the final half mile did not kill my son.

Svelt Ned at Waverly

The toll of 75 miles began to show on the faces of folks turning into White Lake. The happy go lucky, brisk pace of some of the riders had long since vanished after completing the hilliest section of the course. The long face was shared by my son too as he was fixated on getting some well earned food. Indeed, after downing 2 banana’s, several Gatoraides, countless trail mixes and some granola bars one would have thought I hadn’t fed the kid since last week. The nuclear metabolism of an 8 year old was clearly at work. With 10 minutes Owen was running of the hillside and rolling back down on his side. Several people commented that it made them look tired just watching.

We where able to turn some of that energy into some real speed for the last push into Portsmouth. The lay of the land was flat and fast. We where able to settle into our 22 mph pace again, this time without the variations due to hills. It was quite the site to see a dad and his 8 year old son pulling a paceline from time to time in the 20’s. It wasn’t a moment wasted on Owen as he enjoy pulling as evidenced by the strength in his pedal stroke. Another quick stop at mile 92 to refill water bottle and we where on our way into town.

Arrival into Portsmouth was glorious. After a quick cruise past the murals, we arrived at Tracey park to the sounds of a live band playing Margaritaville. As my son and I are both Parrot heads, this was the perfect way to end a milestone ride. It was a wonderful day on the bike.

Chez Portsmouth High School
Nothing is as rewarding after 105 miles on the bike as sleeping on a gym floor. This year was no exception. The difference this year was the quality of gym floor provided. The new Portsmouth High School was open and this was the first year for this rider to stay in such deluxe accommodations. Those who stayed in the old high school, or even the older elementary schools remember the craptacular showers, lack of ventilation and even the smells of those old buildings.

Portsmouth High School gym

Portsmouth High proved to be a great camping location as our group set up in the corner of the gym with our air mattresses and bikes. A spirited game of Uno helped pass the time between the spaghetti dinner and lights out at 9. The age range of play wad with players from 8 to 55, but don’t let that fool you, the play was cut throat. Needless to say, Eve has thrown down the gauntlet at Owen for next year.

Guest appearance by super boy

With the forecast calling for significant rain as a certainty, I made the executive decision not to subject my son to 50 degrees and heavy rain. The call to mom in Columbus for a SAG was made…..on mothers day…..yeah, nothing says happy mothers day like a butt-crack of dawn drive to the Ohio river…..

Sunday

Unlike most of the field riding in the weather, Owen and I enjoyed the warm dry conditions of the minivan on the way back. Conditions where absolutely miserable on the way back as I would later learn from folks I called. The idealic conditions of Saturday where but a distant memory for those on the slow wet return to Columbus. Regardless, it was a milestone weekend for many, including that of a certain little boy.

Many thanks go out to the volunteers and staff of Columbus Outdoor Pursuits, the Red Cross, the Ham radio operators, law enforcement, and countless other organizations that make TOSRV go off. After 47 years, this event still depends on the generosity of these groups and individuals to make it happen.

See you next year!

Packing for TOSRV

Well, tomorrow is registration day at Capital Square Hyatt. It's that special time, like Christmas Eve, where folks are giddy with anticipation for the social ride of the year. This year is special for Owen and I, it's Owen's first TOSRV, his daddy's 7th.

We just got done packing for the overnight in Portsmouth. Included among the supplies for this year's overnight, a book from the Chronicles of Narnia, a stuffed animal, not one but two pillows, some toys and of course an inflatable bed to sleep on.

For those coming to registration tomorrow, please take a moment to visit the American Diabetes Association Tour de Cure table. I will be working with the ADA to promote our tour ride coming up June 7th. It's a worthwhile cause, one I've actively helped organize since 1999. Please consider riding for a cure or support someone who will be riding.

See you tomorrow!

Bikerdude

Fast And Furious

In Central Ohio we are blessed with about 7 good weather days the whole year. This was one of those days. Glorious as the weather was, it was a flat (read fast) route due east 0f Canal Winchester. The "A" Group had a 42 mile route on tap, while the "B" and "C" groups had lesser mile variations on the same theme.

As typical with the A group, little time was given to warm up.....like a couple of pedal revolutions. As the group crested the overpass on Hill road, pace quickly accelerated to the upper 20's. Confusion on the route split the A's at the turn off Carol Northern. Half the group continued straight while others turned off on Basil Western. We did however, regroup when the group that went straight, caught site of the others and bridged up to their pace.

With tailwinds and strong riders leading the way, the group settled into a mid to high 20's pace until Lake Road. The small climbs separated out the weak from the herd, including yours truly, who had to take a more conservative 22 MPH up the hills. Still, even though I was eventually dropped, the ride average was well over 20. Not bad after Calvin's Challenge.

This week is the roll up week to TOSRV, the social event and largest ride for COP for the year. Talk over dinner after the ride focused on meeting times and places at the ride start downtown. Exciting news for folks who have been utilizing the Budget Tours leading up to this weekend. For this rider, the excitement will be my 8 year old son's first TOSRV, as a stoker on our tandem. We plan to do a hybrid TOSRV, my son doing the half on the back of the tandem while his old man does a full. The logistics are simple, Son gets dropped off at Chillicothe with tandem while daddy rides there and then we reverse the drill the next day. I can't wait.

See you this weekend!

Calvin's Challenge 2008

Wind at this years event as seen in the flag

Calvin’s Challenge 2008

As races go, most think of cycling races as a few hours of penultimate challenge where you face off against a field of riders for a set distance, usually something practical. Flying in the face of such traditional thinking is the 12/24 hour format of ultra-marathon cycling represented by the Ultra Marathon Cycling Association. This style of racing sets the time limit, but not a distance limit. In this case, Calvin’s Challenge gives riders the chance to go as far as possible in 12 hours. Simple? Hardly, take this years event as an example.

The weather forecasts had been predicting almost certain doom and gloom all week. Most of the predictions told of “intermittent” showers or “Occasional” Thunder. To the casual observer, occasional or intermittent denotes rain that comes down light, perhaps as a mist, off and on, over the day. I certain gentleness comes to mind, perhaps even serenity. As a survivor of this year’s Calvin’s, I’m beginning to think that the weatherman in Central Ohio has the most secure job in the world. What job can you screw up, day in and day out and still have? A question for a different time, however, I digress.

Prerace Friday/Early Saturday Morning:

The registration the day before was well run. Riders had a chance to check the field they where riding in, chit chat with organizers and competitors or even buy a spiffy Calvins Challenge T-shirt. As with anything cycling related, the envitiable conversation about the weather persisted, including the high winds and rain predicted for the next day. Still, hope springs eternal and perhaps, just perhaps, the weather folks would get it wrong.

A group from Columbus set up camp on the school grounds close to the ride start location. Tom, Jeff, Rob and Roy set up a pop up camper, gazebo and other essential bike race related gear up. The gazebo was fastened to Roy’s minivan on one side and staked on the other. We bed down at 11 or so confident in our preparations, having drank our racing fuel, acknowledging the forecasted rain as an accepted possible, our bike neatly arranged under the gazebo presumably safe.

Camp "Stay Free Mini-Pad"

At approximately 3:30am, Saturday morning, Roy awoke to the gentle shaking of his minivan ominously similar to that of a Gazebo in a 30 mph wind. Sounds from the neighboring camper where no better. The wind buffeted the side of the “Stay Free Mini-Pad” without mercy, it’s contents empting to arrest the Gazebo about to take flight. Despite our relative proximity to Orville and Wibur Wrights home turf, we reeled in the gazebo, collected the contents from the front of the high school and went back to sleep wondering what Jym Ganal’s home address was.

By daybreak, the situation outside was looking decidedly less then ideal. Although temperatures where moderate, near 50, the wind was relentless. Adding insult to injury, the first bands of heavy rain where to hit the school by about 7:45, 15 minutes into the ride. Most participants dressed accordingly with rain jackets, neoprene gloves and, of course, the occasional crucifix. The insanity of what was to transpire left little doubt that this field was hard core.

Teams getting ready with support vehicles, Note:White minivans are cool!

Lap 1:

The traditional mass start of all classes for the 12 hour race went off without incident. The pace car lead the group out on the first leg of the 50 mile loop. The steady 20+ mph wind, with gusts into the 30’s was evident as the group did not fly off so fast. Indeed, the relatively subdued pace was a Herculanean effort in the face of mother natures wrath that morning. One thought to themselves “its only half of each loop, how much worse could it be?”. As it turns out, that was exactly the wrong question to ask.

The “worse” that came was even higher wind, accompanied by rain. Not the pansy rain that dual Doppler and forecast models had predicted before. Rather, this was the kind of rain you wait to blow over before you run to get in your car. To liken the experience on a bike to the layperson, imagine towing a wagon full of bowling balls through a 20 mile long car wash…..that was how much this sucked. The rain, driven at times by high gust of wind stung as it impacted face and skin.

By the time South Solon, the 25 mile checkpoint came into sight, we had turned out of the wind to enjoy some recovery. Lap times suffered. Timings to South Solon and even back at the start reflected the intensity of the weather. By the time lap one had finished, this rider felt like he had done 2. Well, one lap is in the books, things are bound to get better. A quick refueling at the campsite and on to lap number 2.

Lap 2 :

The passing of time did very little for the intensity of the wind, or the moderation of the rain. In fact, the rain intensified to seemingly full hurricane intensity on Pitchin Road and the approaches to South Solon. At times, this rider was down to 12mph on the slight grades, into the wind and rain. The intensity of the rain and wind began to leave doubts as to if this was worth the pain and discomfort. Regardless, the another 25 miles had to be put in to get back to the start/finish.

The rain began to subside and the sun was out by the time the start/finish was in sight. The damage was done however. The wind and rain had cut this rider to pieces. The mediocre 6 hour century time came at extreme cost. Alas, 200 miles in 12 hours would have to wait for another day.

Calvin’s Thanks:

Many thanks to the ride organizers, The Grahams, the Stephens as well as the army of volunteers who put on a wonderful event, despite the weather. I can still picture the 5 or so people, standing in the driving rain in South Solon, punching race numbers. You folks made it happen.

Christina Graham in the pace vehicle

Race Director and Co-owner Larry Graham

See you next year.

A Boy and His New Bike

One of the best things a father can see, especially one that is a cyclist, is the pride in ownership a boy has for his new bicycle. Last Sunday, Owen became the proud owner of a new Trek KDR 7.2 FX. Since then, Mr O has riden it about 25 miles according to his trusty bike computer mounted on his new handlebar. My TOSRV stoker is now acting out his independent streak, refusing to ride tandem with his old man in light of his svelt, cobalt blue 7.2. Can't say I blame him. One look at the photos below, you can see he is obviously diapponted going from a single speed BMX to a 24 gear, speed machine:



Tonights destination was our neighborhood park, Westgate Park. Our modest neighborhood has a rec center with a mile round path adjacent to our Alternative Elementary School. As insignificant of a distance this may be for the experienced cyclist in Central Ohio, it represents a fun, small challenge for and 8 year old. Perhaps those more seasoned remember a time when distances of only a few miles represented a challenge. Let me offer the following example:

Rewind the clock 32 years, travel to Glens Falls, New York and yours truly was struggling to get to the end of the driveway in his new bike of the day. Of course, gone are the days of a full head of blonde hair, a completely plastic bike and riding barefoot but hey, this is where it all started. It just goes to show you, start em young and see where they can go!