Why do I spend my time riding a bicycle, when I could be doing other things, such as tending a garden, learning a foreign language, or playing tetris on my computer? This has been a question that has puzzled many cycling philosophers throughout history, where "many" is defined as "one," "philosophers" is defined as "newsletter editor" and "throughout history" is defined as "while attempting to write an Editor's Letter." But, even upon a not-so-thorough reflection, I can think of a lot of reasons why I ride a bicycle. Three of those reasons are why I participated in three different types of cycling events during the first three weekends in May. And these reasons are as follows:
As a Test of Physical and Mental Fitness: Like many cyclists, there are times when I've been curious to see how fast I can ride a bicycle. As a result, I found myself at a high school on the outskirts of Springfield, Ohio on the first Saturday in May, preparing to ride Calvin's Challenge. Calvin's Challenge is a 12 hour race that I had participated in four times, but I had not been back since 2005. What finally did bring me back was a new event that the race organizers had added in 2008, a 100 mile time trial. I've done many Century bicycle tours over the years, and I've always wondered just how fast I could ride a Century; the sort of Century ride without the camaraderie of my fellow cyclists, the enjoyment of the scenery while riding at a pleasant pace, and the opportunity to gorge on fruit, sandwiches, cookies, and whatever else is available at the SAG stops during the ride. In other words, a Century ride with the fun parts taken out. And now was my chance.
I began the ride with the goal of breaking 6 hours, a goal that looked increasingly doable during the early portion of the first 50.5 mile lap; a portion of the ride that was fueled by adrenaline and a prevailing tailwind. After 20 miles, I was riding at a pace that would have me finishing in 5 hours 31 minutes, but by then I was already starting to hit some headwinds, and I knew that the remainder of the lap would be more difficult, which it was.
I finished the first lap in 2 hours 49 minutes and after a very short break, I began the second lap. This time around, my heart was pumping harder than my adrenaline. At 67 miles, I began fighting off leg cramps in my inner thighs, first one leg than the other, like a two tag team wrestlers. I had planned to "kick it in" the last 10 miles of the race, but while riding up one of the few hills with about 12 miles to go, both legs started cramping simultaneously (hey, that's cheating!), and so I decided that just trying to maintain my speed was a better strategy. I finished the race in 5 hour 48 minutes for the actual 101 mile time trial, an average of 17.4 mph, with about 4 minutes off the bike. I was pleased with this result, and I should also note that the winner of the 55-59 age group whipped me by a mere 77 minutes. Of course, he had a time trial bike, so I feel confident when I say that with aero bars on my bicycle and the body of a cyborg, I could have taken him.
The Enjoyment of Participating in a Bicycle Tour: The following weekend, I returned to Ohio, this time to Columbus, to ride the Tour of the Scioto River Valley (TOSRV), a tour that I have done every year since 1994. This year, I got together with 7 riders from the Toronto area, having ridden TOSRV with a two of these riders numerous times. The 105 mile ride down to Portsmouth, Ohio that I did on Saturday with these two Toronto riders was uneventful, which was a good thing. Although we had a headwind, it wasn't a strong one, and the day was sunny and warm.
However, except for the headwind part, this wasn't the case on the ride back to Columbus on Sunday. It was a pouring cold rain and the temperature was in the 50s as we left Portsmouth, and five of the Toronto riders and I rode as part of a group of about 30 riders during the first 28 mile leg of the ride to Waverly. Ah, there's nothing quite like experiencing the spray of rain from a bicycle tire, courtesy of the cyclist in front of you, for an hour and a half. It takes your mind of the rain hitting you from above, and under these circumstances, I try to be an optimistic "the glass is completely full because it's raining" kind of guy.
Even though I was wearing a base layer, a cycling jersey, a vest, and arm and leg warmers, it didn't take long for me to start getting cold at the Waverly SAG stop, and that was also the case for my riding companions, so our stop was brief. During the next two legs of the ride, we split up, due to SAG stop breaks determined by varying susceptibility to hypothermia, flat tires, etc., but the six of us got back together on a portion of the last leg of the ride, before another flat tire split us up. By then, the rain had changed to a light drizzle, but it was a drizzle that never seemed to end, and we cancelled our plan to stop at a restaurant a couple miles from the finish for pizza and liquid refreshments besides water before completing the tour. We just wanted to be done and to get out of our wet cycling clothes.
So, it wasn't the best of cycling days, but a day spent cycling is never a waste of a day. I got to see some cycling buddies I see once a year and enjoy riding on some scenic (as well as some not-so-scenic) roads. I also managed to avoid dropping my bicycle and cracking the frame while walking down the stairs of the parking garage to my car this year, so there was also that sense of accomplishment.
Adventure: For the vast majority of my rides, I end up where I started, and I don't ultimately travel anywhere. This makes a point-to-point bicycle ride very attractive; which, among other things, provides an opportunity for me to look on a map and say to myself, "I started my ride here and ended up here! Behold, what a manly stud, I am!" Okay, so there's some ego involved here, too, but that's not always necessarily a bad thing. A sense of cycling accomplishment of the not-dropping-a-bicycle variety can also be important to one's well being.
So, when John Olbrot suggested that we do a ride to Zingerman's Deli in Ann Arbor, it didn't take any convincing for me to agree to do it. I thought it was a great idea. As a result, I spend the last Saturday before I turned 60 with eight other riders on a quest for gourmet sandwiches.
We left the Water Street Coffee Joint on Oakland Avenue at 7:20 A.M. and we rode through quiet country roads in eastern Kalamazoo County and in Calhoun County south of Battle Creek on a route plotted by John. The pace was pleasant, with the occasional hard pull from our cycling hard riders, Terry Butcher, who had ridden 232.5(!) miles in 12 hours two weeks earlier, and Dave Jarl. We took our first extensive break in Homer and then continued to Concord, where we picked up a bike path that took us into Jackson. We took another break in Jackson and continued through Jackson to Grass Lake, turning north just east of Grass Lake and crossing I-94. There, we found a conveniently located convenience store, where we took another break in the even more conveniently located shade of the store, as the temperature had reached the mid-80s. We then completed the final portion of our adventure, riding through Chelsea, then Dexter, then on Huron River Drive into Ann Arbor, arriving at Zingerman's Deli at 3:55 P.M. after riding 122 miles.
We celebrated our adventure with good, but expensive, sandwiches and fountain drinks. (My sandwich and drink set me back 19 dollars, which means that I'll be using Spartan brand energy gel for the next couple months.) From there, seven of us rode to a parking garage, where John and Dave had left their cars the night before, while that overachieving duo of Terry and Jeff Newman rode off to see how far they could ride back to Kalamazoo before dark. (They rode another 60 miles back to Concord before being picked up by Terry's wife.) After John dropped me off at my house, I spent the rest of the evening gazing in wonder at a map of Michigan while contemplating my self-validated state of total awesomeness.
Three rides, three reasons. And if there's one thing I'm know, it's when I'm on my deathbed, I won't be saying, "I wish I had spent more time playing tetris."
Rick Whaley, KBC Newsletter Editor
