Strange photo

A strange photo indeed. Yesterday was a gorgeous fall day in New Jersey and the bike and I were out roaming the Sourlands. I did fifty miles and truly had a great ride. So why is the bike now hanging from the hooks in the garage?
One of my fellow riders on the cross country ride in June was an eminent surgeon from Connecticut and he took one look at the little "fatty tumor" I've had on my right leg for years and gave me a very convincing argument for having it checked out when I got back home. So, to make a long story a little shorter, I have now gone from a simple ultrasound to two MRIs and a full body PET scan. The bottom line is that they have found highly suspicious spots on my thyroid, my lung, and my lower colon...I have gone from feeling like I could do the Tour de France to feeling a little like a walking time bomb. The good news in all of this is that everything seems to be in very early stages and very curable. I have a surgery scheduled for tomorrow and the doctors are conferring today (they just confirmed the colon spot this morning) to see who gets first dibs on a body part. So while I am concerned I am not really frightened - and not incidentally Susan has been a huge support through all these disclosures over the last couple of weeks. I don't know how I would get through this without her.
I totalled up my mileage last night - I'm about 50 miles shy of 4,000 for the year. My original goal was 6,000. I do expect I will get to 5,000 - the bike is on the hooks waiting for me.

Payback....

Yesterday and today are probably two of the finest days of the summer. The temperature is maybe 76, 77 degrees, light puffy couds and blue skies, and virtually zero humidity. So am I out riding? No, I am not. Instead of being on the bike I spent yesterday morning at the dermatologist's and today I was at home recuperating. Recuperating from what you might ask (or you might not but I will tell you anyway).
Among other things on my "to-do" list after the ride to Boston was to catch up on some doctor visits. And on the list was a trip to the dematologist. Needless to say I spend a lot of time in the sun - actually I grew up in the era when we sat on the beach and baked because to have a deep tan was to be "cool". Well, I have found out that down the road there is payment exacted for that kind of "cool". My doctor found three little spots she labeled basal cell carcinoma...certainly not as bad as malanoma but that "carcinoma" word sure is an attention getter. And so yesterday morning I submitted to what they call Mohs surgery on the upper portion of one ear - yes, the ear of all places. They basically slice off a layer at the site, test it, let you go if it is OK or bring you back in and slice off some more until they get it all. So I had two iterations with the surgeon and the scalpel and then when home with a huge bandage on my ear. I am told that they very frequently see this kind of thing on the ear because people are very careful to lather up the arms, the face, etc but often don't even consider the ears...So, on the one hand I'm very glad they got it all but then I remember the blisters I had from the sun going through the desert on the XC in 09. Direct connection? Who knows but I'm sure it didn't help. Meanwhile, the weather forecast for tomorrow is more of the same great weather and you can bet I will be covered in the best sunscreen money can buy.

Flattered or insulted???

The local bike club (Princeton Freewheelers) sponsors and organizes what they call the event every first Saturday in August. It is half a dozen planned riding routes from sixteen to one hundred miles through the New Jersey country side, mainly farming and horse ranch terrritory. It attracts a couple of thousand people from all over the tri-state area with every skill level from sneakers and a cross trainer to amateur racing teams with 5 and ten thousand dollar bikes. I started doing the ride almost twenty years ago and remember signing up for my first metric century and afterwards needing about three days to recover (and I think I wore sneakers too - although I did have a decent road bike).
Yesterday morning did not look good at 6:30 as I was packing up the bike - dark clouds in the west and talk of possible (probable?) showers throughout the day. However, I thought I just sailed through three days of real rain on my end-of-cross country trip so what's a little warm mist when a good ride is planned. So at 7:15 I found myself heading out to the country with a few hundred other cycling nut-cases determined to get in 100 miles before the downpours started. We made it to the first SAG at the thirty mile point with no moisture but after a few minutes for fresh water and a couple peanut butter snacks the drops started coming. And they continued to come on and off for the next 70 miles. I guess the good news was that it was better than the heat waves we had a couple weeks ago and the chance to ride the country roads with a few hundred others was still a great way to spend a Saturday.
So somewhere around the 80 mile point I fell in with a young rider also riding solo (both of my prospective riding partners had other plans and I literally went through the entire day of riding without seeing a single person I knew) and we started into a bit of small talk as we pedalled. Coming out of a long flat stretch we hit a series of rollers. I rose out of the saddle for a few strokes to attack the first hill and then continued through the second and third until the road flattened out again. And meanwhile my young friend fell back maybe a dozen or so bike lengths and I was actually a little surprised to see him only in my mirror. Given another three or four minutes and the now flat road he came up alongside of me again..."Wow", he said, "that was some strong pull" and then he added "especially for someone your age". I looked sideways at him for a minute and then could only laugh to myself...If he only knew. I confess I was tempted at that point to try and kick it up a couple of notches and see what would happen but discretion got the better of me and we sailed in to the lunch that is part of the deal with clearing skies and the same pleasant small talk that started our short relationship...All in all a good day and a fun ride - even the lunch at the end was good. I recorded 101 miles at 16.4 mph, not a bad day's work. And the sun did come out on my way home for dinner on the deck.

Veho Ergo Sum

Today was an almost perfect day for riding...and it is the reason I have titled my little bit of literary nonsense with the Latin phrase above. One of the more obscure facts of my life is that I took 6 years of latin, amazing but true. And secondly, I majored in Philosophy in college (logically, of course, that led to a career in re-insurance...go figure). And so that three-word Latin phrase is the last line on my rider ID band that I wear whenever I go out. So, in an attempt to make a long story short, I was thinking about the meaning of that sentence while I was out riding the roads and hills of the Sourlands and the Delaware River this afternoon. It was indeed a beautiful day - we finally are rid of the heat and humidity and today was a day with sun and clouds and temperatures that I would guess were in the high seventies, eighty at most. I did 70 miles through some of my favorite country...the Sourlands, the Delaware river, the Lower Creek road and the Sergeantsville covered bridge, and lots of corn and soy bean fields: a lovely, lovely day. And, of course, I am still basking in the completion of the cross country ride and the beaty of the last 880 miles that I did a couple weeks ago. I know that so much has been written about cycling by so many people but at the same time...I never feel so much alive, so in touch with everything that makes this life so precious as when I'm on a bike and exerting maximum energy to climb a 20% grade or flying down the other side of the same hill and seeing the mph hit 40 as I go into the last sweeping curve. A young deer jumped out from the bush today and just stood in the road and looked at me as I approached - I actually had to yell out to make sure he moved. How often do you have that kind of moment sitting on a couch watching a baseball game?
I stopped at the deli in Sergeantsville today, a favorite spot for cyclists, and because I was wearing my cross country jersey I got into a conversation with another cyclist, a guy maybe 60 - 65, who said right away "I don't think I could ever do that...". Of course I immediately said sure you can do it: you have a beautiful bike, you are running around these hills - why not? But then I thought later...the beauty of cycling is that you can do whatever you set your mind to. For years the idea of a cross-country was a dream and while I'm not sure I really thought I would do it, I never really doubted that I could do it. If you think you can or think you can't you are right (with all due respect to one of my XC colleagues).

And by the way, I would be happy to provide a translation of the Latin statement but I suspect that you can figure it out...think Descartes.

Hot times in New Jersey

I am not a scientist so I do not have the definitive answer on the global warming issue. However, I do suspect something is going on and we seem to be losing the warm but bearable summer weather that we had in the past. We have had, alternately, either hot-hot-hot or three/four days of drenching rains for the past few weeks. We are currently in the midst of another heat wave with the temperatures in the low/mid nineties (it is mid-afternoon and the temp is 93) with 5 and 6 days of this heat. I got up early today for the second day this week and was out by 7:30 hoping to beat the worst of the heat. And I did, in fact, get in a good ride - although it was warm there was just enough of a breeze and I had enough water to get me through the first forty miles or so. But after the last stop for water and gatorade the sun was high, the heat was up and enough was enough. The last twenty miles was a bit of a stretch...the gatorade quenched my thirst and the water was sprinkled over my steamy head.
Sixty-five miles for the morning but I'm here to say I've had it with these heat waves...no way is it fun to be cycling in 93 degree heat every day...wonder what the temperature is in Alaska?

The Dalton gang rides again....

Well, at least one of them will be riding. Harry Crampton, our Liverpool friend who was integral part of the Daltons on the 2009 cross-country ride, arrived in the US on Wednesday. He signed up for the Anchor House ride (a NJ 500 mile charity ride) and will be heading up to the start point in Burlington, Vermont with Tom Ryan today. In the meantime Susan and I hosted dinner for Tom and his wife Chris and Harry on our back deck last night. Needless to say it was a fun re-union. The last time Harry saw me I was lying on the ground waiting for the helicopter - and the last time I saw Harry was at dinner the night before and he was at the end of the table with a few empty Boood Lites lined up in front of him. He has not lost his taste for the Bood lites and we all had a great time telling and re-telling stories from our shared adventure...Good luck and a safe ride to them both through Vermont, New York and back to New Jersey over the coming week (I only wish I could join them.)

Finally: Bob does ride to Boston!

After 880 miles (plus the previous 2.550) the end was in sight, the ocean was right in front of us, we had only to walk over the sands to dip the front wheel into the Atlantic. Wow...what a journey it has been.
Twenty-five riders (along with numerous supportive family including Susan) assembled in a gray light rain and began the last twenty miles to complete the long cross country journey that started at Manhattan Beach in California and concluded at Revere Beach just north of Boston. Every one of us had a story: there were two father/daughter combinations, one man doing the ride in memory of his wife, a woman who was struck with a near fatal illness and has waited 5 years to recover; two of us suffered serious accidents on a previous tour, spent months healing broken bones and came back to finish the journey. We all rode two by two through the suburban streets with our support vans as escorts front and rear. With our flags flying and the escorts honking horns I'm sure the folks on their morning commute wondered just who these idiots were who chose to ride city streets through the rain.
It took us maybe 90 minutes to get to the beach and as we turned the final corner (photo below) a cheering crowd of family and friends was on the opposite corner...I saw Susan immediately - and can say truly that after a long solitary effort was thrilled to have someone I love to share the final moments of the journey. I thought about this moment when I read the blogs of my mates from the 2009 ride in my hospital bed and I have probably thought and imagined the scene at least once a day since then.
We rode the final yards, dismounted and carried our bikes to ocean for the final ritual of standing in Atlantic water and dipping the wheel - all of us shaking hands, families snapping photos and yelling congratulations, a few over-exuberant folks just plunged right in and celebrated with a dunking. The rain had stopped, the gray skies persisted but it was a glorious moment for each of us.
We celebrated last night with a closing banquet at the hotel where we could tell stories, make a couple of speeches and generally start to try to understand what the whole experience would mean to us. Just as each of us has his/her own story each of us will be processing this experience in our own individual way I am sure.
I have had a sense of incompleteness for four years. The goal seemed so very close when I went down in Marysville and I have never stopped waiting for the right moment to finish this ride. Even more, I love cycling and was determined I would come back on my own terms. I think I rode strong for each of these 880 miles and I know I enjoyed every day - the long days, the hills, and even the rainy days. I also enjoyed the people. It was a fantastic group of riders and I felt a part of the group almost from day one.
I will be thinking about this experience for many days, probably weeks - and Susan will be hearing stories that might seem to go on forever.
The father of a twenty-eight year old rider made a short congratulatory speech last night that included one line that sticks with me...."There are some 250 million people in America and last week they probably did nothing more remarkable than go to work, watch a little TV and repeat the process the next day. The riders in this room have just crossed an entire continent, climbed mountains, rode through deserts, braved rain and heat and did it all on their bicycles - that is truly remarkable and I congratulate you all."
Not often do we get the opportunity to meet a challenge, prove ourselves to ourselves and know in our own inner being that truly we have done something remarkable. It's a feeling I will savor for awhile.

Triple state day...part 2

And so to continue....
We rode through downtown Brattleboro one more time heading for the Connecticut river and another state line crossing. The day would see us going from Vermont, through New Hampshire and into Massachusetts for dinner. Again, I am surprised to see almost immediately the unique character of New Hampshire. We followed the Connecticut river for several miles, a very pleasant sight off to our right hand. Most of the land was forest with occasional houses and even more occasional small farms.
We picked up a series of smaller rivers and true to the overall geography any number of hills. None of the latter were as long as yesterday but several were in the 2/3 mile range and several quite steep. Two of them showed portions at 22% on my Garmin. Fortunately we had an overcast day but no real rain Our first SAG was in New Hampshire and a local man saw us in the parking area and came running up to warn us there was a black bear wandering up and down the highway - fortunately the bear was a mile or so up the cross road not on our route but it did give us something to think about for the next few miles.
And so at mile 41 we hit the Massachusetts state line: the last state crossing of a 3400+ journey. Massachusetts also very definitely has it's own personality. While we continued to get the hills and beautiful scenery in Western Mass we also noticed some changes. The roads generally were as bad, i.e. potholes, narrower shoulders, as anything I had seen since Ohio. And the drivers: rude and impatient and they only get worse as we approach Boston.
We went through Lexington and Concord, both very historic and quaint New England towns. Concord, by the way, was home to Ralph Waldo Emerson the 19th century poet/philosopher and his home is nicely preserved as a museum. Concord was about 10 miles from our destination hotel Burlington (northern suburb of Boston) and just as I took my final photo it started to sprinkle with very dark clouds looking like there was more on the way. The ancient streets in these old towns can sometimes be very confusing and that was certainly the case for me (and, I found out later a couple of others as well) and as the rain started to become a serious downpour I became very lost for the first time of the entire tour. I asked directions of everyone from UPS drivers to folks simply walking their dogs and, in hindsight, got some very unhelpful answers Long story short, I came upon a group of cyclists out for an after-work in the rain and after a couple of questions found they were headed for Burlington and invited me to join them. By this time the rain was simply pouring down, the streets were full of commuter traffic, and Susan was sitting at the hotel getting more frantic by the moment (and all I could do was one quick phone call to assure her I was OK and would make it in soon). In the end I did 102 miles (my very true century) and was in fact last one in for the day. I was a wet, sodden mess - the comparison to a drowned rat comes to mind. Needless to say I rushed to get a hot shower and used a substantial quantity of the Hilton's hot water reserves. And we did just a tad more climbing than the day before: 5700 feet. Some day, dinner with Susan and some wine for both of us was most welcome.

Triple state day...

Life and the time demands of the tour kind of got in the way of the blog the last couple of days. We had our first taste of rain - which demands a visit to the hotel laundry - and a couple of days of heavy duty climbing which is a big motivator for an early bedtime.
In any case we left Albany with a cue sheet that promised some real hills on our way to Vermont. Once out of the city - always a fun time given our 7:00 AM departures - we were back into the rolling Northern NY landscape although it was muted just a bit by a lightly falling rain. And that rain would follow us just about all day. Fortunately it was warm and to be honest the overcast sky kept the sun from pounding on us going up the hills. Our first SAG was one of the best - they set up at a Dunkin Donuts and much as I know that the Dunkin product is not exactly the best fuel for cyclist consuming in excess of 5,000 calories that lemon cream filled creation sure tasted good. We hit the Vermont state line at about 30 miles and could almost feel the difference. The green was greener, the terrain more hilly, and the views more sweeping and grand. Our first major town was Bennington and what a lovely little New England city it is. High spired churches, old houses for the most part loving kept up, and of course a monument on the village green in the center of town. Among other things we stopped at marvelous old church graveyard ("old" as in easily dating back to the early 18th century) and visited the grave of the poet Robert Frost. His epitaph: "I had a lover's quarrel with the world."
Much of the rest of the day was spent in heavy duty climbing that began with a 7.1 mile climb with a grade that ranged from 12 to 16% almost the entire way. There was an incredible descent on the other side that, had the highway not been so wet, would have lent itself to record speeds. My best for the day was 40mph but I was feathering the brakes all the way down. That, of course was not the end of the climbing. Our next big one was Hogback Mountain, the site of one of Vermont's many ski resorts. The photo from the top is below. Again, a fantastic descent that was long and fun but done with much caution. We ended in Brattleboro, another neat little town that also has an artistic, almost hippie kind of subculture. The sun finally came out and we had a marvelous dinner at a roadside bar-b-q overlooking a small lake and gorgeous view of the value and mountains. For the record it was 79 miles with 5,600 feet of climbing - not too difficult to fall asleep that night.

The Mohawk Valley

We had a relatively short day and so were given a sleep-in this morning. That means up at 6:30 and out on the road at 8:00. One of the really good things about that is that the sun has already up and well over the horizon so we are not riding directly into it. "Relatively short" meant 71 miles today with only about 2500 hundred feet of climbing. It was, however, another very hot and humid day and we were all moving to get in to the hotel (in Latham just outside of Albany) before the predicted thunderstorms hit. And I will tell you it is pouring right now but I think everyone did get in pre-storm (I did).
We followed the Mohawk River for most of the route today and riding through the Mohawk valley was a lovely way to spend the day. Similar in some ways to previous days there were lots of farms, a whole series of small towns that at one time depended on the river for their economies and are mostly struggling shells of former prosperity. At the same time the countryside is very pretty and we had lots of lovely view. The roads are, again, in good shape and built with wide shoulders for cyclists. Towards the end of the day we rode through Schnectady, the largest city we have seen in the last few days. All I can say is that it reminded me of downtown Trenton, or maybe a smaller version of Detroit. My riding partner for today was again Don Beherens who lives in Albany and among other things he told me that GE once employed 60,000 people there but that number is now down to 6,000. It shows on the streets and we were happy to get through and out of town.
We did move right along today and so I have only a couple of photos. Tomorrow we move into Vermont and I hear rumors that we will be experiencing the Green Mountains for a couple of days...should be fun.