O N L I N E E D I T I O N Happenings The Gainesville Cyclistgccfla.org/pdf/December2006.pdf · 2016. 9. 24. · The Gainesville Cyclist The bi-monthly newsletter of the Gainesville

The Gainesville Cyclist

The bi-monthly newsletter of the Gainesville Cycling Club, Inc.

December 2006

The Most Welcomed Sight for Horse Farm Hundred Riders

O N L I N E E D I T I O N

HappeningsHappeningsHappeningsHappenings December 16 (Sat) Holiday Party

See full details on page 3. Pot luck dinner at the Merkner’s, 6 to 10 pm. The club will provide acouple of turkeys! 2401 NW 27th Lane. From Glen Springs Road (NW 23rd Blvd between NW13th St and NW 34th St) take either 23rd Terr or 24th Terr south to 27th Lane.

December 26 (Tue) Bike Memorial Event

Event details will be posted on GCCMail.

January 6 (Sat) 200 Kilometer Brevet

7:30 am. Full info is on our web site. Please preregister for this event.

January 13 (Sat) Tour de Felasco

The ride is full. To volunteer to help out, email [email protected] or call the registrationdirector at (386)418-1113.

January 27 (Sat) Chilly Chili Picnic

See page 6 for full details about this anticipated annual picnic event, held at O'Leno State Park.

2 The Gainesville Cyclist December 2006

GainesvilleCycling Club Inc.Board of Directors

PresidentBob Newman 372-8195

[email protected] PresidentPhotographer

Rob Wilt [email protected]

Membership SecretaryNewsletter Editor, Webmaster, List ManagerGainesville Cycling Festival Director

Roger Pierce [email protected]

Lantern RougeChandler Otis

[email protected] DirectorMembership Card Lamination, Event SuppliesManager, Bike Store Liaison

Diann Dimitri [email protected]

Regional Brevet AdministratorJim Wilson 373-0023

[email protected] Lambert (386)462-0996

[email protected] SecretaryKathy Byers 317-3635

[email protected] Road DirectorMike Kelley 335-2534

[email protected] Leader CoordinatorScott Pfaff (352)472-3325

[email protected] at LargeJane Emmeree 335-8005

[email protected]

Support Persons

Office ManagerBarb Thomas

University of Florida LiaisonBen Fein

[email protected]

GCC Web Pagegainesvillecyclingclub.orggainesvillecc.orggccfla.org

From The Editor Roger Pierce

T i s t h es e a s o n . . . t ostart thinkinga bou t yo u rincome taxes.And since thisis how I makemy spendingmoney (as at a x o f f i c emanager forH&R Block) it is

the season when I don’t have a lot ofextra time to devote to the stuff I do to

keep the club running. We got an earlystart this year at the office, whichexplains the lateness of this newsletter(and possibly the lateness of the nextone).

Over the next year, the club will belooking at ways to spread out the loadand build in redundancies so that wecan operate more seamlessly in thefuture.

Many thanks to the contributors tothis newsletter for submitting materialwhen needed and without proddingfrom me.

December 2006 The Gainesville Cyclist 3

President's Letter

The Gainesville Cycling Festival isin the books and put to bed foranother year. Over 1,100 riders

signed up for the weekend rides andour club was able to donate $10,000 tothe Boys Club. This year’s festival ranexceptionally smoothly, thanks in largepart to our terrific volunteer base. Iwould like to personally thank all of themany people who volunteered theirtime and efforts to make the festivalthe success that it was. Specialthanks go out to Festival DirectorRoger Pierce and Gary Greenberg, AidDirector whose tireless dedicationhelped pull everyone together.

This year was not safest in memoryfor our riders. Several members have

sustained injuries, most minor but Iwould be remiss in not wishing VickiSantello continued success in her longroad back from several injuriessustained when she was stuck by amotor vehicle. On a more positivenote I would like to congratulate Jay &Rita Ritter (formerly Rita Comerford),the latest in a line of club romances(including my own) to reach fruition inmarriage. This year our club hasgrown to more than 600 members. Iwill be looking forward to seeing asmany of you as possible at our annualChristmas party. Wishing all of you ahappy and safe new year.

Bob Newman

Holiday Party ActivitiesEatingThe club will provide a couple ofturkeys. Bring side dishes tocomplement the birds.

Food ContestWhen you arrive you will be given afood label and a food ballot. The labelwill have a number on it. Write yourname and a description of your dish onthe label and make sure that it isplaced so that everyone can tell that itgoes with your dish. When you decideto vote for a dish as “best”, write thenumber that is on it’s label on yourballot, and place it in the ballot box.Prizes will be awarded for bestappetizer, best dish, and best desert.

IcebreakerWe will have an activity planned forwhen you arrive.

Competitive Gift ExchangeEveryone coming to the party shouldbring a wrapped gift. Select somethingthat you think may be sufficientlydesirable that people might want tofight over it. But you do not need to

spend a huge amount of money; a boxof ten power bars might do the trick ifyou cannot come up with somethingmore original! Huge battles have beenfought over a $3 stuffed animal fromDollar General!

All of the gifts go under the tree.We will then call names (two at atime), and the persons will select a giftfrom under the tree and open it(quickly). Subsequent persons calledwill have a choice: select a gift fromunder the tree or take one thatsomeone else already has. If your giftis taken, you have the choice ofselecting one from under the tree, ortaking one someone else has (youcannot take back the one you justlost). You are limited to three “takes”during the evening; after that, if youare the victim, you must select a giftfrom under the tree. The game endswhen the last person selects a giftfrom under the tree.


GCC Rider Kris Williams Reporting

The Gainesville-Hawthorne Trail iscovered in leaves and bike tirescrunch as they roll through the

c h a n g i n g l a n d s c a p e . G C Cmembership changes too, as peoplecome and go. Meet two new members:

Scott Erker just picked

up cycling last February (and gave upracquetball where he won two nationalchampionships and was a nationalfinalist two other times). Solo, he ridesabout 33-45 miles and averagesaround 21mph on his 58" SpecializedTarmac; but he also enjoys grouprides. He says, "The bestadventure/experience I ever had on abike was when I first started and beingon a Glider ride...the last few miles onthe way back in from Millhopper turnedinto a three-way sprint back to theChevron - and I won. Since then the"A" ride has been a constant source ofhumility for me." His favorite place toride is out Millhopper Road to 241 andenvirons.

Scott was born in St. Louis and thenlived in Orlando, but has lived in

Gainesville since 1995. He's a riderwho always tries to do his best and hetries to constantly improve his riding.Scott adds, "I have always been acycling fan, watching Greg Lemondwin his first Tour de France back in the80's. And even when I went to anOlympic elite camp in ColoradoSprings for racquetball the expertsthere told me the sport I was bestsuited for was cycling - it took meawhile to finally pick it when I no longerhad the heart for racquetball." Scottwill see you on Millhopper Road.

Shauna Dixonjoins us from Ireland (although she'slived in Florida for over twenty yearsand lived in Gainesville for twelveyears). A couple of months ago, shesays, "my good friends and neighboursintroduced me to cycling and I amhooked. I ride at least 30/40 miles ona Sunday morning (15/18mph) as itseems to be the only time I get to doso and maybe if I am lucky I ride for anhour on any given weekday. I feel likewhen I am out on my bike with theelements all else is left behind and itliterally takes me away, for that shortperiod of time."

Shauna has discovered the beautifulsurrounding areas through her bikeriding and notes, "I have discoveredsome gems but know I could neverfind them again in the car!!" Shaunaadds, ">I have been really impressedwith the community of cyclists, no

matter where or when you can alwayscount on a wave, a nod or even agrunt from fellow cyclists that you meeton the road. I would like to think thatas I progress with this sport I too willalways have the spirit of friendship andloyalty to those who ride with me. Ilook forward to getting to meet andknow some great people through theGCC."

We can all give thanksgivingsfor the beautiful andaccessible riding opportunities

in Alachua County. Have a riding storyyou'd like to share? Contact Kris [email protected].


Gainesville Cycling Festival Volunteers

Ihope we’ve managed to list all of thevolunteers who made this year’sFestival another smashing success!We were again able to present the

Boys and Girls Club of Alachua Countywith a check for $10,000 to helpsustain their programs. Along with thedonations provided by Santa FeCentury ride sponsors, this eventmakes a material contribution.

I want to thank the Alachua CountySheriff’s Office for their outstandingsupport of this event. Other membersof the community contributing includedthe Rotary Fryers, the men of Chi Phi,and the staff of Morningside NatureCenter. Thanks to Domino’s Pizza,Beef O’Bradys, Publix, Starbucks, andthe Gainesville Health and FitnessCenter for their contributions. TheBoys and Girls club wishes tothank Saturn of Gainesville for theirsubstantial contribution for theevent, and Shelley Meyer, CoxMedia, Wachovia Bank, GMAC,and the College of VeterinaryMedicine.

CadreDirector: Roger PierceSuzanne NewmanJen ShelamerMelinda KokenKrin Cosner

CourseChandler OtisDave BurrDavid Hodel Huan Dinh Richard & Anne HeissenbergSharron BowkerNeal CohenJim Merkner

George McKenzie Amy Barton Robin Politowicz Valerie Clark Chuck BrowardJim WilsonGeorge Edwards Laura Hallam Scott PfaffGwen CreelNeal Adams

Rest StopsAid Director: Gary GreenbergDiann Dimitri Dennis Guttman Bob Newman Bud Jones Scott Pfaff

Paul Messal Joe Dertien Mike Beckham Cheryl Drda & Frank Michael Bergin Barb Bergin Peter SleasmanMike LatiolaisLambert Vaes Cheyrl Drda Ralph and Dottie GiroSherry Shearer

Danny DresdnerRoger Sessler John Stokes Cindy Dresdner Sherry ConnerCarol GlavinAndrew GillWilliam MaloneyMaria FiedlerBeth KnizerJane EmerreeJohn Parker

Dawn McKenzie Jennifer Segraves

Harriet Kornblatt Maggie Hannon Marly Wilson Dan ConnaughtonRalph Cott John Bonds Ivette Cott & crew Nanci LeVake Velvet Yates Raven Moondance Bob NewmanLeonard Cohen Mosetta Cohen

Mark Hope Mark Hope's friend

RegistrationLee EdwardsSharron Bowker Dennis Guttman Mary Lou MerknerBrian Hetz Richard Colbert Steve Grosteffon Fred Ross Burt Silverstein Harvey Goldstein Chuck McGinn Steve Lachnicht

PhotosRob WiltRoger Pierce


March 24-25, 2007Sebring FL Sebring Tandem Rally11th Annual. Traditionally held in mid-January, this event has beenchanged to March, as the weather has been dreadful the last severalyears in January. Daily 62, 30 and 12 mile rides. Discover the naturalbeauty of the rolling hills, citrus groves, cattle ranches, small towns, andlakes of scenic Highlands County. This event is designed for riders of alllevels, whether they prefer to speed along winding roads and finish therides in record time, or cycle through at a leisurely pace, taking in thewonderful scenery. Road riders will especially enjoy the low-traffic backroads. Fully supported with well-stocked rest stops, sag vehicles, andgreat road markings and maps. Continental breakfast each day and abanquest on Saturday night, a tradtion at most tandem rallies. Lots to doin town. Linda Leeds, Event Director, 561-683-2851. Hotel reservations at1-800-423-5939.Email: [email protected]

WWW: http://www.kenlodge.com/rec.html

Leading the ride through Oleno woods, Chandler demonstrateshow to scare off bears. Rob Wilt photo.

January Picnic Features the Famous "Chilly Chili" Contest

The GCC will have its worldfamous "Chilly Chili" picnic onSaturday, January 27 at Oleno

State Park. Bike rides start at 9 a.m.,food starts about noon.

The picnic features a Chili Cookoff,and everyone is invited to bring theirbest chili. For those who don't likespicy chili, The Club will provide thefamous "Fowl Flesh Chili", a mild chilimade with ground turkey, guaranteedto offend no one. On the other end ofthe spectrum, we may again seeGeorge Edwards' mouth watering"One Alarm Chili" with itsaccompanying antidote.

All chilis are welcome, includingvegetarian recipes, hot or mild chilisand other variations. Prizes andpraise will be awarded to the bestchili's including vegetarian chili,mammal flesh (cow, swine, squirrel)chili, and fowl flesh (chicken, turkey,ostrich) chili. Insect and seafoodbased chilis are also welcome.

The Club will provide soft drinks anda big pot of rice to accompany the chili.All picnic participants are asked tobring either a chili or a side dish, suchas a salad or dessert.

Bike rides will include both roadrides and off-road rides.

Road ride leaders may want toorganize road rides for the Oleno area.The top half of the Santa Fe Centuryroute is near Oleno. Also, there is anew off-road paved bike trail that goesfrom Oleno to Fort White, then toItchetucknee and on to Branford,about 28 miles. This trail has no carsand is safe for family groups andbeginners.

Oleno has 13 miles of gentleoff-road trails, including the historicBellamy Road, Florida's first Federalroad built in 1826. Chandler will lead ahistory ride to the Bellamy Road, whichwill include the Old Spanish Trace andWire Road, which have been in use formore than 300 years.

Participants in the IDIDARIDE andthe San Felasco Ride are invited toenjoy the chilifest. Oleno's trails arenot challenging, but it is a good chanceto get together over a meal and trytrails that the entire family can enjoy.

Directions to Oleno State Park:Oleno is 35 miles north of Gainesvilleon US 441. Take US 441 norththrough Alachua and High springs.Oleno is eight miles north of High

springs on US 441. Riders andpicnickers should meet at the picnicarea in Oleno, which is next to theSanta Fe River.


The Challenge of Brevet - Part 4 By Nanci LeVake

The 400K

The thrill of victory! The agony ofthe rest of the ride! I made aserious mistake on this ride, that

could cost me the ride itself. But it allstarted out so well...

The weather forecast for Saturdaywas perfect- start out about 60F, highin the 80's, partly cloudy, 10% chanceof rain, wind less than 10 mph, then alow in the 60's that night. I asked theRBA (Regional Brevet Administrator) ifI could skip the bike inspection thenight before, and save an hour and ahalf trip, and he asked me to just bethere early the next morning. I had agood night's sleep, and woke up at1:20 AM. Way too early! I wasn'thungry; it was too early. I wanted toput sunscreen on my back, but BF wasat work, so I thought I would try with along-handled wooden spoon. Itworked! I got dressed in shorts, aT-back tank, my new Bolero, and anIlluminite vest. I already had my bikeloaded, and my small trunk bagpacked. I was traveling light becauseof the perfect weather. I had a coupledrinks in the trunk bag, and sparelights/batteries, and my tiny camera. Inmy new Baggins Candy Bar bag I hadan assortment of energy bars, thetheory being last time I didn't eatenough because I didn't want to stopto get things out of the trunk, so if Ihad food in a handlebar bag, I wouldeat more. Never opened it all day!!(But it sure looked cool!) Then I hadmy cell, truck key, Jelly Belly SportBeans and Succeed Electrolyte capsin the Bento box.

So I get to the parking garagedeparture point at 3AM, and no one isthere! Is it the wrong day? I bike overto the host motel, and circle theparking lot until a car with a bike finallyshows up. By the time he's ready andwe head over to the garage, there areplenty of riders there, eventually a totalof 20, of which I am the only female...Igreet the by now familiar riders, andhave a couple pieces of home madebanana bread.

We head off at 4AM into thedarkness, and unlike previous rides, I

am totally unfamiliar with the route.The fast A riders who will average 25mph are soon out of sight, but Imanage to stick with the B riders at19-20 for quite a while. Good thing,since I am not following the cue sheet,just sticking with the pack. Almostimmediately I discover that the newBaggins bag has the ability to turn myheadlights off and on at will. Shouldhave pre-tested it with lights! It's anannoyance, nothing more. As usual,the recumbents pass us with ease,stop to retrieve things that have beenlaunched off their bikes, then pass usagain. After about an hour, still dark,we come to a sudden halt in a trafficjam of bikes. What is going on? Just aSecret Control...already! The guychecks my name off the sheet, stampsmy card, and off I go, still with the Briders.

The early morning is lovely-mockingbirds are singing, and frogsare chirping. Dawn arrives, we pass acouple stores, and no one wants tostop. Finally, a guy peels off for a peebreak, and the entire group joins himwith sighs of relief. My first group pee!I back into the weeds by a fence, andam on my bike before the majority ofthe guys. Still the group stickstogether, and I am amazed that I cancontinue at this pace, faster than Ihave ever ridden for any distance,much less 78 miles. I have, in fact,knocked 30 minutes off my usual 100ktime. That's 25% faster! But at last thespeed without major caloric intakecatches up with me, and I have to stopfor a quick Amp energy drink. Icontinue on to the Control, and meetup with a slower guy, Buddy, andagree to partner up at a slower paceand let the B riders go on without us.

Still, I'm impatient to be on my way.Buddy wants to take a 15-20 minutebreak, but, at our present pace, I havevisions of finishing by 9PM! I try toconceal my impatience, and drink aCookies and Cream milk, and refill myEndurance Formula Gatorade. (I am_so_ happy that many stores arestocking this now!) My friend from the300k, Dan, arrives, and joins our"team." Off we go, supposedly at aslower pace, but with a nice tailwind,

the pace turns out to be up in the17-19mph range. We have a nicepaceline going, and arrive at lunch_much_ earlier than my mostoptimistic estimation, at 11:30 (115miles). The only thing is, my knee,actually my ITB right above the kneejoint, has been almost hurting for thelast 15 miles. I figure we'll take it easy,_really_ slow down a bit more. I've hadITB problems in two very long runningraces, in the 10-hour range, but neverbiking. Obviously, though, theunbelievably fast pace first thing hastaken a toll, but this early on, I have noidea how serious it is to become.

From the first stop on, I ammanaging my electrolytes by takingone Succeed cap every hour (sodium344mg, potassium 21mg) and drinkingEndurance Gatorade as needed (twicethe sodium, 200mg and three timesthe potassium, 90mg, of regularGatorade). This plan seems to reallyagree with me in this weather, and allday, my stomach never feels "sloshy,"a sign of not enough electrolytes. Atlunch I also take 800mg of Ibuprofen.I forget to check my Century time, butwhen I finally remember at 109 miles,my riding time is 6:20, 18 minutesfaster than my Century PR, and 9miles further!

We are out of the lunch stop atnoon, (mmm! ham and swiss sub, withpotato chips and an ice cold _regular_Coke!) and head north, almost toGeorgia. This section has two longstretches, north and south, with a shortconnector in between. My knee isseriously starting to hurt, and we stoptwo times so I can raise my saddle aquarter inch each time. It doesn't reallyhelp. Maybe my knee pain isdistracting us all, because we figureout we have missed a turn, all three ofus looking for what is actually _two_turns ahead, not the immediate turn.Fortunately, this was discovered onlytwo bonus miles after we passed theactual turn. We go back, and pedal on.

The weather is perfect- 80 andsunny, but not too hot. The countrysideand company are wonderful, but I can'tappreciate that so much, because ofmy knee pain. And all the shiftingaround, trying to accommodate my


knee, is caus ing problems"elsewhere," too. We have a momentof excitement in White Springs, at aroad construction site, when our turn isacross a road in the process of beingpaved. We cannot find a way around,and have to dismount and carefullycarry our bikes through the wet tar andgravel.

At some point we come to anunmanned Secret Control, completewith RUSA sign and a blinking redlight, my first! We stop, put the littlestickers on our cards, and go on. Idecide raising the saddle hasn'thelped, and stop to lower it back to itsoriginal position. We stop atconvenience stores twice to refillGatorade and have bathroom breaksand at each I have a flavored milk. Atthe last convenience store before dark,I change out the battery cartridges formy lights. My plan was to save weightand just change the four-AA cartridgesrather than carry two spare lights withnew batteries, but I am so tired, Iquestion the logic of this when itseems impossible to get the backs offthe lights. Fortunately, it's just becausethe batteries have slid forward, and asharp blow to each puts them backwhere they will allow the access doorsto slide off. I also take my last 800mgof Ibuprofen.

Finally we come into the town ofBrandford, check in at the Control, getour cards stamped, and head over toPizza and Subs for dinner. I lookforward to a sit-down rest, and thecook kindly gives me a bag of crushedice for my knee. I check in with myemergency bail-out person, and tellher that I'm am safely to dinner, withonly 50 miles to go, and there is _noway_ I will not finish the ride, eventhough my knee hurts quite a bit.

After a nice dinner of cheeseburgerand fries, we head out. Now it's dark.My knee seems better, and, becauseI am familiar with the route from hereon in, I lead off. At about five miles out,though, my knee hurts worse thanever. I go slower and slower, until it'sall I can do to manage about 6mphwith much coasting and very painfulrestarts. I call for a pee break, and amhorrified to discover that my knee hurts_so much_ I can't turn my foot tounclip. My knee feels as if someonehas stabbed a white-hot poker into it,

and is now wrenching it about. Dansteadies my bike, and I force myself tounclip, then stagger off the bike, andinto the weeds, screaming very quietlyto myself, trying so hard to not look likea weenie. Back on the bike, and barelyable to sit, or pedal, things are lookinggrim. I discuss matters with Dan, anddecide the best plan is limp home,right on the course, and let themcontinue on without me. It absolutely_kills_ me to make that decision- myhome is only 15 miles from the end,but I feel like if I can't unclip, I can'tride safely in traffic. I _know_ Dan andBuddy would gladly stay with me forthe rest of the night, no matter howlong it took to get in, but I can't putthem through that, though I would dothe same for them.

At my driveway, I say goodbye, andask them to let the RBA know that myplan is to continue on before daybreak.I have fleeting fantasies of quitting, butrely on the old axiom "Pain istemporary, quitting is forever." But whoknows if that is true; "It never alwaysgets worse" didn't seem to hold truefor me tonight...Nevertheless, I retrievethe key from the lockbox with greatdifficulty, and head inside. Wait, arethe motion sensors on or off? I can'ttell, and if they are on, I don't have theremote with me to shut them off. I canmake it into my bedroom andbathroom safely, but am cut off fromfood, Ibuprofen and any liquids otherthan water. I finally decide there wouldbe a blinking red light if they were set,and luckily, I am right.

I get undressed, and survey thedamage to my undercarriage. It looksa bit like I have been sitting on a waspnest all day rather than a bike saddle,welts and all, and unfortunately prettymuch feels like that, too. I would evengo so far as to say swollen beyondrecognition. I've never had thisproblem before, and blame all theshifting around trying to find acomfortable position for my knee. Ohwell, maybe I can fix it later with bagbalm and ice. (And yes, by today, 48hours later, everything is thankfullyback to normal!) I "hop" into a nice hotbath after downing a tasty limeEndurox. Oh, it feels wonderful! Aquick soak, and it's off to bed with anice pack. I set my alarm for 4AM.

The phone rings at 2AM, and it is

the RBA, checking in on me. I say Ithought he had gotten the messagethat I would be coming in before 7AM,and he tells me to knock loudly when Iget to the motel room. He inquiresabout my knee, and I tell him I haven'twalked on it yet (having slithered out ofbed, to the phone, like a snake) butam hopeful that after two more hoursof RIE I should be able to limp in.

At 4AM I get up and survey thedamage. It feels a little better. I packup, head out the door, hop on my bike(SHRIEK!!!) and off I go. I am hopefulthat at this hour most of the Saturdaynight drunks are home in bed. I haveone scary incident with a whiteMustang that speeds past me, parksup in someone's yard which I notice asI pass it, and then roars past me againa few minutes later, but nothing comesof it. I have occasional top speeds ofabout 15mph, but average 10 mph forthe final 15 miles. I'm really just happyto be moving at all.

I finally arrive at room 106 about anhour and a half after leaving home. Iknock politely, twice, then proceed tobeat the door down. RBA Jim groggilyanswers, signs me off, notes myfinishing time of 5:59AM, one hourbefore the cutoff, and I'm on my way tomy truck a mile away to pack up andbe done with it. I feel disappointed, letdown. I feel like it's my own fault forriding faster than I should have. I had_no idea_ that there could be kneepain so bad that having a root canalwhile in labor would seem preferable!I _am_ grateful to have finished, andafter all, it is not a race. The finishers'names are written down on the big listin Paris in alphabetical order with notimes noted. Still...my goal was tofinish before midnight, and I amseverely disappointed and saddened.I have doubts about the coming 600kin three weeks, even though I ampositive I was well-prepared for the400k, as evidenced by almost nomuscle soreness immediately after theride, or even the next day. The onlyglimmer of hope is that I have_almost_ experienced what it would belike to do 400k, sleep a few hours, andthen get back on the bike. It wasn't sobad. With all the trouble, I stillmanaged a pace of 15.7mph, my bestyet! I was only _on the bike_ for 16hours. That's pretty good, right? Yes,


Gainesville Brevet Series200K January 6300K February 3400K March 3600K March 31

Sign up on the GCCweb site!

not so bad. I am forgetting the awfulparts already...

Part 4 of 4.....The End

Not the end really , there will alwaysbe another Randonneur ride to call outour resident Randonnuese! There isstill the 1200K.

Now go back and read the firstarticle in the series, you will have anew appreciation for what it took forNanci to get to 600K.

Thanks to Nanci for this excellentseries on the character and challengeof Randonneuring. Hopefully it willinspire others to the realization thatlike anything, it is the trying, and thedoing, that makes the seeminglyimpossible, become the possible.

Following winds,

Rob Wilt

Boston-Montreal-Boston in 49 hours 40 minutes

On August 17th 2006 in Boston,MA the 15th edition ofBoston-Montreal-Boston was

held. BMB is a long-distance cyclingevent where riders complete 1,200 km(750 miles) in 3¾ days . Gainesvillecyclist Andrea Tosolini, 44 years old, arookie at this distance, was the firstback in Boston, leaving a chasinggroup of veterans almost 2 hoursback. He became the second cyclistever to ride BMB in less than 50 hours.

The following are a few extracts fromthe translation of his diary, written inItalian right after the event. The fullaccount is published in the onlineversion of the newsletter.

The start is set for 6 am on August17th. This will be the first time I face thechallenge of 1200 km, the samed i s t a n c e a s t h e m y t h i c a lParis-Brest-Paris. I rode well in thequalifying events, the so called brevetsof 200, 300, 400 and 600 km, so I amhoping for a good ride. I trained hardevery day for a whole week in the

Pocono Mountains, riding 100+ mileswith 8000+ feet of climbing daily. I feelin great shape, but I am still a rookie.What will happen after 600 km? How doyou manage to keep pedaling for 50+hours?

And the biggest question mark of all:sleeping! Stay awake through onenight? Done that -- every collegestudent has pulled an all-nighter, right?But two in a row? After cycling all daythrough the mountains of Vermont andMassachusetts??? That's a biggerquestion. I read about Stefano Gamper,a long-distance cyclist from my hometown of Bolzano, who rodeParis-Brest-Paris in 1999 and didn’tsleep at all during the ride. Maybe I canmake it also. Maybe not. We will see....

“Guys, I think we went the wrong way.Look, nobody is after us!” TheBulgarians mutter, consult their mapsand start swearing. We have to turnaround! Now we ride even faster thanbefore, because we have to make uptime on the bunch. ...

After another steep climb, we finally

descend into Middlebury, VT. Thecheckpoint is the gym of a local school,and there are showers. How nice it is totake a shower and change clothes! Theveterans are very efficient, but I wasteseconds here and there. Wheneveryone else is ready to go, I am stillputting lights on my bike and helmet anddonning my reflective vest. As I changelenses on my glasses, I see the groupleave without me. I yell for them to wait-- it would be awful to ride at night all bymyself. I hurriedly jump on my bike, andoff we go on the longest of the stages,almost 90 miles north to Rouses Point,NY, near the Canadian border....

As we go back to the bikes andresume pedaling, I notice something iswrong with my shifters, and my chainmakes a strange noise. I stop and makesome adjustments trying to solve theproblem. For a while it works, there is nonoise, and I am relieved. A few mileslater something frightening happens:when I push the rear derailleur leverbefore a small uphill, nothing happens.My cable has broken!

Full Article Follows.


ONLINE BONUS ARTICLE

Boston-Montreal-Boston in 49 hours 40 minutes

The start is set for 6 am on August17th. This will be the first time Iface the challenge of 1200 km,

the same distance as the mythicalParis-Brest-Paris. I rode well in thequalifying events, the so called brevetsof 200, 300, 400 and 600 km, so I amhoping for a good ride. I trained hardevery day for a whole week in thePocono Mountains, riding 100+ mileswith 8000+ feet of climbing daily. I feelin great shape, but I am still a rookie.What will happen after 600 km? Howdo you manage to keep pedaling for50+ hours?

And the biggest question mark of all:sleeping! Stay awake through onenight? Done that -- every collegestudent has pulled an all-nighter, right?But two in a row? After cycling all daythrough the mountains of Vermont andMassachusetts??? That's a biggerquestion. I read about StefanoGamper, a long-distance cyclist frommy home town of Bolzano, who rodeParis-Brest-Paris in 1999 and didn’tsleep at all during the ride. Maybe Ican make it also. Maybe not. We willsee.

The weather is wonderful. Perfectday for a bicycle ride. The organizersalways warn riders to be prepared forrain. “It comes with the applicationform,” they say. I am sure theirstatement is backed up by theirmemory and even statistics. Butmaybe this year will be the exceptionto the rule.

150 riders take part in the event.Most of them leave at 4 am, so theycan get safely to the fourth checkpointbefore sunset. That is also my goal. Istudied the route and the altitudeprofile and decided I could possiblymake it to mile 228 in 12 hours. Thesun sets around 8 pm. There are atleast 12,000 feet of climbing out of thetotal 30,000 in the whole ride. It maybe feasible, but it will take someserious riding to make it before dark.

After the start I try to stay up front tolearn which riders are strong so that Ican try to stay with them. Three ridersimmediately stand out. All have redshirts with “Bulgaria” written on them.This trio leads the bunch and starts

pulling hard: 25-27 mph. I stay behindthem and pull when my turn comes.However, I wonder, will it possible tokeep this pace for two days? Myaverage heart rate for the second hourwas 151! Not really a good idea for a750-mile ride.The four of us break away from therest of the group, but when I look back,I do not see anyone behind us. It isimpossible that we dropped them likethat; maybe they had a flat and had tostop. Or maybe… we went the wrongway!

“Guys, I think we went the wrongway. Look, nobody is after us!” TheBulgarians mutter, consult their mapsand start swearing. We have to turnaround! Now we ride even faster thanbefore, because we have to make uptime on the bunch.

Indeed, the first in line had taken awrong turn, and three of us followed.For this kind of ride, called arandonnée, each rider has a cue sheetwith turns listed progressively: at mile10.6 turn left on Highway 45, at mile15.7 go straight at blinking light, etc. Ifyou can make a mistake like thisduring the day, imagine what canhappen at night!

The first checkpoint is New Salem,MA, 75 miles into the ride. The leadershave already left. Ian, the chief of theBulgarians, announces we will stop for10 minutes at most. I have just enoughtime to fill my two water bottles andcamelback and eat whatever comesinto sight before we're off again, tryingto close the gap with the leaders.

On the way I have the opportunitychat a bit and to get to know theBulgarians, who in fact are not fromBulgaria. Jan is from Denmark butholds a Swedish passport; he is a bigfan of Ivan Basso. John was born inBoston but lives in London; we talkabout Pegoretti. Pat, also fromLondon, is the least talkative of thethree. Together they rode a 1200kevent in Bulgaria few months earlier,hence the orange shirts with “Bulgaria”written on them. They all are veteransof long-distance rides and have riddenBMB and Paris-Brest-Paris. I am gladto be riding with them because they

know what they are doing (or at least itlooked like they knew what they aredoing until they took the wrong turn).At the second checkpoint we see theleaders, but a few minutes after we getthere, they leave and stay ahead of us.At this second checkpoint I am happyto find my brother-in-law, Jack, who isdriving the support van. Jack lives inNew Orleans but flew to Bostonbecause he wanted to help me facethis new challenge. Last year he cameto Dahlonega, GA, to help me do theSix Gap Century, both practically, byhanding me water bottles, andmentally, because I wanted his effortsto be worthwhile. I had a great ride,finishing in the top 50. In April thisyear he came to Gainesville to help mewith the 600k brevet. Without hissupport I would not have riddenthrough the night by myself, finishing itstraight in 22 hours. It was a goodomen for the longer 1200k.

Now he's here to support me again.He isn't allowed to use the same roadsas the cyclists, he may only offersupport at the checkpoints, and he hasan alternate route he must follow toreach them. At the first checkpoint Ihadn't seen him and started worryingsomething happened to him or thevan. He assures me he actually wasthere, but he parked had parkedbehind a barn and hadn't noticed whenwe came and went. When he went toask the officials about me, they toldhim I was long gone. I am relieved tosee him and to be able to put on somesunscreen lotion. It is noon and thesun is shining brightly. I eat and drinkwhile Jack talks with my wife Elizabethon his cell phone. Everything is goingwell.

The Bulgarians are ready to go, andanother cyclist, dropped by theleaders, joins us. Off we go toward thethird checkpoint in Ludlow, VT. Themost challenging hills await us. Whenthe road goes up I start sweating, andthe sweat dripping on my chain makesit squeak. At the next checkpoint Iabsolutely must grease my chain. At6' 3” and 185 lbs, I am not a climber,but I manage to stay with the otherfour.


After each hour of riding I take a lapon the HR monitor to give me theaverage HR of that hour of riding. Thepace has slowed a bit, and I stayaround 140 for the hour. I need to stayas low as possible. During the first 5-6hours with the crazy Bulgarians, I wasaveraging 155, way too high forlong-distance rides like this one. I canaccept 140 . Later in the ride I wouldaverage 120, which is even better. After a long, tough climb where someriders were forced to push their bikescomes a great, beautiful descent intoLudlow. Jack greets us excitedly,saying the leaders arrived only aminute before us. I feel good, eatsome Felicetti organic spelt pasta Iprepared the night before and drinklots of Trinity mineral water that Ibrought from Gainesville. I lay down onthe grass, massage my legs and try torest a bit.

We're at mile 163 with 65 miles tothe next checkpoint in Middlebury, VT,where the plan is to shower, changeclothes, eat a full meal and get readyfor the first night on the bike. Afterchecking tire pressures, we all leavetogether with the small group that hadbeen ahead of us. So now we are allthe leaders. There is Urs, a Swiss guy who movedto Seattle; he is wearing anintimidating jersey emblazoned with“RAAM” (Race Across AMerica).Talking with him, I discover he hadfinished the relay team event in 2002.Last year he tried a solo ride but failedbecause of health problems. Chris isalso from Seattle; he wears a beautiful“Cinghiale” jersey. I wanted to buy thatjersey for myself not too long ago.Chris is a real “wild boar” (that's what“cinghiale” means in Italian. It is alsoa brand of paint brushes thatsponsored cycling in the past!). Chrispulls the group like a train for thelongest times, but he seems to noteven break a sweat. There is also asecond John, from around here. Heseems familiar to me, and I learn thatearlier this year we rode the sameevent: The 12 hours of Sebring,Florida.

So now the group consists of sevenriders, and we pass more and morecyclists who started two hours beforeus. It is afternoon and the temperatureis ideal. If we keep on going like this,

we will easily reach the nextcheckpoint before dark.

At the checkpoints I try to eat welland drink as much as I can. Ideally Ishould consume about 500 calorieseach hour on the bike. In my pockets,I carry energy gels, 100 calories each.I also carry cereal bars and cookies. Atthe checkpoints we check in as soonas we arrive and check out beforeleaving. The event officials stamp ourpersonal cards and note the time ofarrival and of departure. Along theroute there are also random, secretcheckpoints, announced by prominent"RUSA" signs (for Randonneurs USA,which organizes these events).

After another steep climb, we finallydescend into Middlebury, VT. Thecheckpoint is the gym of a localschool, and there are showers. Hownice it is to take a shower and changeclothes! The veterans are veryefficient, but I waste seconds here andthere. When everyone else is ready togo, I am still putting lights on my bikeand helmet and donning my reflectivevest. As I change lenses on myglasses, I see the group leave withoutme. I yell for them to wait -- it wouldbe awful to ride at night all by myself.I hurriedly jump on my bike, and off wego on the longest of the stages, almost90 miles north to Rouses Point, NY,near the Canadian border.

After a couple of hours we stop at agas station for Gatorade and freshwater. I call my wife, Elizabeth, and tellher I am riding through the night with agroup of veterans. She feels betterhearing that, and she tells me that herwhole family is following the ride. Herbrother Jack reports by phone to histwin brother Gene in Washington, DC.Gene posts updates to his web log.

At night we roll through beautifulvillages along lakes with nice harborsfor sailboats; it looks like really prettyscenery. We will see it better tomorrowon the way back. When we arrive atthe checkpoint it is nearly 1 am. Jackis waiting inside the ice-hockeystadium. There we find the greatestpotato soup and wonderful pancakeswith real maple syrup. We are the firstto arrive at this checkpoint; we havecaught and passed all the riders whostarted 2 hours before us. Most of thethem are now sleeping and resting 90miles behind us. The people working

at this checkpoint are friendly andtalkative. The chef is from Brazil, andwe talk about soccer and FormulaOne.

I decide to wear arm and legwarmers because the temperature hasdropped significantly, and it is veryhumid too. Pretty soon, we reach theCanadian border. The guards aresleeping, and we have to ring a bell towake them up. They check ourdocuments quickly and we enterCanada. The road signs are different,and so are the speed limits, which areexpressed in km instead of miles. It is2 am, and there is not a soul around.We see the first car more than twohours later. Everyone sleeps soundlyin the Montreal countryside.

I peer into the darkness for signs ofthe famous Covey Hill that looms infront of us. You can see it on thealtitude profile, and it will scare you onpaper. I heard about it from theveterans. I see some red lights at thehorizon, and pretty soon we are goingup. While changing from 53 to 39, mychain slips, and I lose my balance andfall to the ground. I get up as if nothinghad happened, shine my lightsaround, check twice to make sure Ididn't drop anything, and go back topedaling. I am surprised that I do notfeel any pain, but after all, I was almoststanding still when it happened.

So here we are, going up Covey Hill.We proceed at an easy pace, and afterreaching the top we enjoy the shallowdescent that takes us to the nextcheckpoint: half way, the turning point.The veterans talk about how nice it willbe to see the riders on the other sideof the road going out, when you arealready going back in.At this checkpoint everybody wouldrather speak to us in French, but prettysoon they switch over to English. Theyhave sandwiches, CocaCola and hotcoffee. Foodwise, this is the leastinteresting of the checkpoints. Luckilywe will soon head back to RousesPoint for more of that great warmpotato soup. Jack had decided not toventure into Canada, but stay inRouses Point and try to catch a littlesleep.

After we eat and drink there is totalsilence. Everybody lies down on theschool's wood floor for about 10minutes. Although soon there will be


some light, it is now just 5 am and stillpitch dark. I don’t fall asleep, but itfeels good to lie flat on the floor.Soon we are back outside and readyto head back after having ridden 375miles in less than 24 hours. A fewmiles into the return I have our first flattire. While I am replacing my fronttube everybody is lying on the grass. Ithank them for waiting and volunteer topull the group for a while, a muchmore practical expression of gratitude.Soon we meet the first cyclists stillgoing out; they greet us and wish uswell.

Descending the Covey Hill theveterans ride like “il falco”, reachingcrazy speeds. I take it easy and staybehind them all. Suddenly, a piece ofpaper flutters by me: it resembles thecard that we stamp at checkpoints.Somebody lost his card! What shouldI do? Should I stop and go back to getit? If I do, will I make it back to thegroup? Are they going to wait for me?I keep going but try to get somebody’sattention by yelling and gesturing.After a while they notice and stop. Iexplain what I saw and everyonechecks for his card. Sure enough,Bulgarian (***) John's is missing. Ashe rides back to get it, everybody liesdown on the grass again. Minuteslater, he is back with his card and weall go on together.

The skyline of Montreal is visible inthe sunrise -- what nice scenery! Iwanted to take some pictures, and hadcarried my small digital camera at thebeginning of the ride. The brutal paceof the first few hours convinced methere was no time for pictures, and Ihad left the camera with Jack at thesecond checkpoint.After a short check and a quick chatwith the border patrol we head back toRouses Point and the hot potato soup. I finally remember to grease my chain(I'd forgotten to do it 20 hours earlier)and because of the flat, I check my thetire pressure. Everything is OK. It'sbeen one full day, but after a little restand good food, we set out on thelongest stage. Most likely we will stopin the middle for more food and colddrinks. It is a hot, sunny day, and thewind has picked up! Just after weleave Bulgarian (***) John punctures.He replaces his tube faster than I hadwhile everyone else rests in the grass

beside the road. We retrace the route we covered

the night before. We are actually onan island in the middle of a beautifulbig lake. Jack would later describe anaval battle that took place here in the1800s. The outbound riders are takingadvantage of a strong tailwind. For us,it's a headwind, and it's slowing usdown. Last night there was no wind,and we envy the outbound riders.

After three hours of riding in the hotsun into the wind, we unanimouslydecide to stop for an iced coffee. Greatidea! But in the middle of the Vermontcountryside how many coffee shopsare we going to find? Eventually, wefind a gas station where they servelocally roasted coffee. Good omen!However, they look at us like alienswhen we plead for iced coffee. Theydecide they can do it, but we end upmaking it ourselves. They give us thecoffee and the ice and the milk. Itworks out for everybody!

As we go back to the bikes andresume pedaling, I notice something iswrong with my shifters, and my chainmakes a strange noise. I stop andmake some adjustments trying tosolve the problem. For a while it works,there is no noise, and I am relieved. Afew miles later something frighteninghappens: when I push the rearderailleur lever before a small uphill,nothing happens. My cable hasbroken!

Now my chain is stuck on the 13sprocket. I can shift the frontderailleur from 53 to 39, but I am stuckwith 13 in the back! We still havesome serious uphills before the nextcheckpoint, so it looks like my ride istaking a turn for the worse. I consultthe veterans for advice on solving myproblem, even just long enough to getto the the checkpoint where there willbe a mechanic. Alas, nothing can bedone. So I tell everybody to find themechanic when they get to Middleburyand tell him what happened so he willbe ready to replace the cable when Iget there. Maybe then I will be able tostay with the group for the remainingpart of the ride back to Boston.

Everybody slips away on the nextclimb, while I am huffing and puffingwith the 39/13. Middlebury is at leastanother 40 miles, and there areseveral serious climbs. I seem

doomed to fall behind the group. Ireally don’t like the idea of seeing thisgreat ride spoiled after having donealmost two thirds of the route in thelead pack. I can’t believe that my debutin this long distance event will beruined by a broken cable.

It is impossible to talk on the phone-- no service in rural Vermont. I ask alocal cyclist who informs me there areno nearby bike shops. Somehow, Idon’t want to give up, and I want tofight until the last pedal stroke. Threetimes as I strain uphill in too high agear, the rear wheel shifts and rubsthe frame. I must get off the bike,center the wheel, and finish the climbwalking or running because it's toosteep to get started in the 39/13. On a long flat stretch after some hillsI'm finally up to full speed in the 53/13.I see the group up ahead andsomehow manage to chase back on.When they see I'm back, they look atme as if I am a zombie or a mummycoming back from the dead.

Because there are more climbs toface, I try to stay ahead of the group,hoping to reach the next checkpointwith them. Somehow I manage to fallno more than 300 yards behind themon the remaining climbs and evenmake it to the checkpoint a couple ofminutes before them.

I immediately start looking for themechanic, but he had just left on anerrand. They reach him by cell phone,and he returns quickly. I explain myproblem, and he starts work rightaway. It is an easy repair, and heshould finish quickly. I consume two ofslices of American pizza, which isgood but different from the authenticItalian kind. I'm hungry, so I like it aswell as the original.

Of course, Jack was completelyunaware of my mechanical problem.He finds out about it when we arrive atthe checkpoint. Now he hovers overthe mechanic trying to expedite therepair. It is the middle of theafternoon; we still have four hours ofdaylight. I am tired but not exhausted,and I'm not even thinking about thecoming night. I just hope my bike willbe fixed so that I can stay with thegroup for the rest of the ride.

When everybody else is ready toleave, the mechanic is still working onmy bike. It will only take a few minutes


longer. I plead with chief Jan, theDane/Swede/Bulgarian, to wait, but heinsists they have to go. He feels I amstrong enough to chase back to them.

Jack is outraged, and I'm not veryhappy with their decision either. I can’tbelieve they wouldn't wait a few moreminutes. My legs feel good, I amconfident that I can get back withthem, but I don’t like the idea of ridingall by myself. I hoped that a strongerrider, like wild boar/cinghiale Chris,would wait and ride with me back tothe group.

When the mechanic is done, heexplains he didn't have a Campagnolocable and had use a Shimano. As aresult, I can only shift up to the 23spocket, not all the way to the 26.

Still, 23 is a huge improvement over13, and I'm used to climbing steepgrades with just a 23 back in my hometown in the Dolomiti Mountains. Themechanic did a professional job, and Imust thank him for getting me back inthe race.I leave Middlebury 15 minutes after theleaders. Within 38 minutes I catchthem! Everybody is struggling slowlyup a steep climb. Everyonecongratulates me for making it back soquickly. I thank them, but I'm feelinggood, and I don't slow my pace. I lookback to see if they are keeping up andsee Jan and John not too far back.The others are further back. I keepmy pace, and the next time I lookback, there is nobody there. I am nowbreaking away! I am not yetconsidering riding alone all the way toBoston. My idea is to reach the nextcheckpoint before everybody else so Ican rest and relax a little after all thestress of the mechanical problem andthe crazy riding with one gear.

On the way to Ludlow, VT, I getreally thirsty for fresh water. I look formiles and miles for a fountain or awatering sprinkler or something, butthere is nothing in sight. After drinkinglots and lots of Gatorade I haddeveloped an aversion to sugarydrinks. I crave a bottle of fresh, puremineral water, but I do not want to stopat a convenience store and lose timethere. In Italy there is a fountain atevery corner, especially in themountains; there is plenty of freshwater to drink everywhere. On a flatstretch I overtake a local cyclist riding

an Italian bike. As I pass him I tellhim, “Nice Bike!” We start talkingabout Italy, and after a while I ask himif where to find the fountains withdrinkable water. Unfortunately, heconfirms they don't exist here. Heoffers me one of the bottles he has onhis bike, full of fresh water. As wepedal together, I quickly pour thecontents into my own empty bottle.What a gift! I thank him and resumemy own pace.

When I get to the checkpoint all bymyself, Jack can't believe his eyes. Heasks, “Where are the other riders?What have you done?" I answer, “Ijust pedaled and pedaled.” I check inwith the officials and eat a bowl ofgreat chicken soup. Jack had told theofficials and organizers about mymechanical problems, and they wantto know more about me. Where I amfrom, what I do, etc.

They tell me, “You could be the firstItalian to win BMB!” Until that momentI never considered staying away soloand arriving first back in Boston. Butnow the opportunity seems there forthe taking. I do not yet know howmuch time I gained on everybody else.They are not in sight, so I keep oneating and drinking. I put the lightsback on the bike, to prepare for theupcoming second night. Eventuallythey arrive, at least 15 minutes behind.They look at me, congratulate me formy ride and start eating.

There are still 171 miles to go, withkiller hills and the whole second nightwithout sleep ahead of us. My legsfeel good, and my neck is OK. Beforethe ride I was concerned about neckpain resulting from long periods in theawkward riding position. Luckily myfriend Marty Hugel from ReQuest inGainesville gave me some exercisesto do on the bike, and I hadn’t had anyproblem there. My stiff cycling shoeskept the pain in my feet pretty muchbearable. The big unknown wasstaying awake the second night in arow. I was a rookie and had nevergone this distance before, so this wasuncharted territory.Jack is still upset they had left meearlier. I ask him what to do, and hedelivers the most brilliant answer.“Why don’t you take advantage of thedaylight still left? If they catch you,then you ride with them. If not, maybe

you'll be the first back in Boston.”. Itsounds good to me.

Jack told me later that wheneverybody else saw me leaving, apanic ensued. They probably thoughtthat a rookie would never venturealone through the night, and that Iwould wait for them. “Don't get lost!”one yelled.

The road goes up and up. It wouldbe nice to be able to use the 26. I amzig-zagging up the hill. Going downhillI have to be careful not to miss anyturns. Now that I am the leader, Icannot afford mistakes, otherwise Iwould blow the time advantage I hadbuilt. I think about my wife Elizabeth,who is putting the girls in bed aboutnow while I ride alone at night in thehills of Vermont. I am nervous andtense; I cannot afford the smallestmistake here.

It is pitch dark, and I have toconcentrate just to stay on thepavement. The excitement of being infirst place keeps me awake andfocused. This part of the route is theroughest, and if you hit a big hole itcould be the end of it. At best you flata tire or a or break a wheel; at worstyou're injured. Either way, the race isover.

Around 11 pm I decide I am lost.According to the cue sheet thereshould be a turn soon, but it doesn'tmaterialize. I see a house ahead witha few lights lights on. Someone isworking in the garage. I stop and askabout the missing turn, and theyreassure me, "It is coming up reallysoon right down there... really close."These nice folks give me fresh waterand some great homemade cookies.I'm not so alone in the middle of thenight after all.

One nagging fear I keep picturing inmy mind is an encounter with a wildanimal. It could be a deer or even amoose, given where I am riding. Thenight before I asked a rider doing hisfourth BMB if he ever encountered wildanimals along the route and he told methat somebody last year saw a moosenext to the border with Canada. Jackactually claimed to hear coyotes atnight! I don’t hear them, I just hearsome random dogs barking.

At night the most annoying thing isthe lights of cars driving toward you onthe opposite side of the road. They


see you, but they can't believe whatthey're seeing, and they use theirbright lights just to make sure. You getcompletely blinded. I try to look only atthe edge of the road and not lose myframe of reference.

For miles and miles I keep lookingback to check for the lights of thechasing group. I know if they worktogether, they will catch me quickly.But I arrive in Brattleboro alone, andJack is happy to learn that I am ahead.I shake my head and tell him that if theroad is as bad as this past stage, I amnot sure I want to risk riding on alone.Jack encourages me and tells me ourwhole family and lots of Gainesvillefriends are still awake and followingthe ride updates on Gene's blog. Theirmother Mary would have been up too;she was always so excited about theselong distance rides. Unfortunately shedied last April. Gene had stayed up alllast night, and his wife Genevievefound him on the couch the nextmorning half asleep.

Now I feel a responsibility that to notfail the mission. I must achieve thisgoal. I've planned this ride for months,but now it seems surreal. I never wona race in my short amateur cyclingcarrier. I start thinking how great itwould be to call up my cycling mentor,Marco Balduzzi, and tell him that oneof his bikes was the first back toBoston. How great it would be to tellmy cyclist friends in my hometown thestory of the broken cable and thebreakaway and the solo ride at night. Itall seems unreal.

And indeed it will be unreal until theend, another 117 miles. It is reallylate, but Jack helps me change mybatteries and install one additional lighton the handlebar. With renewedexcitement I head out toward the lastcheckpoint, only 37 miles away. There is no sign of the chasing groupyet, which means I have at least a 20minute advantage on them. I mayeven have more.

New Hampshire roads are muchbetter, much smoother and thus muchless dangerous at night. I am relieved.I also have more lights, and I can seethe road better. I am getting moreoptimistic. I actually start believing Ican make it. My friend AndyKindfuller, with whom I trained hard inPennsylvania, assured me that I would

“ace it”. I am sure he was half joking,but he witnessed the progress of mytraining and a great crescendo in myfitness. It would also be a greatsurprise for my friend Gaetano inBoston. I cannot wait to get to thefinish. All the physical pain typical oflong-distance rides: bottom, neck, feet,hands is suppressed by theexcitement, the euphoria, the joy ofbeing the first. I never have a momentwhen I feel I am falling asleep -- reallyincredible!

New Salem is the last checkpoint,and the person in charge of ridercheck-in is a veteran of BMB and PBP.She looks at me and says, “Lookinggood!” Jack estimates the lead I haveon the chase group. He warns me thatthey are doing everything they can toclose the gap. I look at the veteran,and she tells me, “They are asmotivated as you are!” I realize Icannot waste precious time, and Idon't even get off the bike. I don't waitfor Jack to find the energy gels to stuffin my pockets or for him to bring thecans of double-shot espresso I hadrequested. He is still looking for themin the van when I pedal away. After Ileave, I regret not waiting for theenergy gels and start worrying I willbonk with few miles to go and getpassed near the end.

Now it's only (!!!) 80 miles to thefinish -- about one tenth of the wholedistance. It will take me more than 4hours, but I should get to the finish bymorning's first light. It is around 3 am,and a small slice of moon can be seenin the sky; it's not enough to brightenthe gloom. Too bad... The full moon ofa week earlier would have helpedtonight. Luckily, I saw no rain thisyear. It would start raining later thatday, as is tradition for BMB, and a lotof the other riders would get soaked.

At the end of long straight stretches,I still glance back to see if someone iscoming. In my mind are too manyimages of breakaways getting caughtby the peleton within a few yards of thefinish. But this is not a race, right?Wrong! For some of us this isdefinitely a race. I know the “wildboar” and the RAAM veteran areworking together to bring me back andpass me.

Sometimes I think I see ridersbehind in the distance. Until the last

mile I keep turning around and fearingthe sight of them coming to spoil myparty. Not today. Today I am thewinner of the race, and I have to admitit is a great feeling. I remember themythical Coppi and Bartali and the biggaps they put on their rivals in stageslike Cuneo-Pinerolo.

At the finish they give me a medaland hand me a fresh Samuel Adams,perfect for 7:40 am! They record myfinishing time: 49:40. Without thechasing riders, I probably would nothave broken 50 hours. It is the thirdbest time for BMB, and I am only thesecond cyclist ever under 50 hours . Jack cannot believe it. He seemseven more exhausted than me. Weare both ecstatic.

Elizabeth and the girls are justwaking up when I call to tell them thegreat news. My father Alberto and mymother Luciana do not even know thatI've done this ride. My mother still getstoo apprehensive when she hears ofcycling.

The veterans arrive almost twohours later, when the rookie hasalready taken a shower and is about togo to bed. In the afternoon I go downto the finish line, and I see wild-boarand RAAM. They greet me andcongratulate me for my time. I'm surewe'll meet again at similar events,maybe at PBP next year. Since theyare veterans I ask them aboutrecovery time, and they tell me it willtake from two to three weeks torecover. One positive aspect theymention, is that this kind of ride makesyou stronger. That sounds good to me.That night Jack and I meet Gaetano atNorth-End, and he takes us to awonderful Italian restaurant for afabulous dinner with great appetizers,pasta, excellent wines, the whole nineyards! Jack tells Gaetano excitedly allabout the last checkpoints, when thechasers were coming in and askingabout the time gap. The gap just keptgrowing and growing; in the last 163miles I gained nearly 2 hours.

Now I know I can ride 750 miles inless than 50 hours, which is a prettygood feeling and a nice present for my44th birthday, coming up in few days.The next 750 mile ride will beParis-Brest-Paris: August 20th 2007.


ONLINE BONUS ARTICLE

Election Turns Wheels of Power in Favor of Bikes

Roads - Cyclists are pumped asadvocates move into key Housetransportation roles

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

JEFF MAPES

The Oregonian

Andy Clarke, who heads theLeague of American Cyclists,says he won't advocate that

interstates become bike paths afterlast Tuesday's elections.

But cycling enthusiasts aredreaming big after their three biggestsupporters in Congress -- includingtwo from Oregon -- were swept intopowerful new transportation positionsafter the Democrats took control of theU.S. House.

Rep. Jim Oberstar, D-Minn., whohelped author the 1991 law thatopened the door to federal funding forbike projects, is in line to becomechairman of the House Transportationand Infrastructure Committee.

Rep. Peter DeFazio, D-Ore., aone-time bike mechanic, expects tochair the surface transportationsubcommittee. And Rep. EarlBlumenauer, D-Ore., founder of theCongressional Bicycle Caucus, willeither hold a senior position on thetransportation committee or move tothe tax-writing Ways and MeansCommittee. All three Democrats arestrong supporters of alternativetransportation who believe thatbicycling can play an important role inmoving people, particularly in denseurban settings, and in providingrecreational opportunities.

"Bikes are going to be an integralpart of our transportation network,"vowed DeFazio, whose subcommitteehas broad jurisdiction over the nation'sroads and bridges.

Oberstar took up bicycling in the1980s with his wife when she wasbattling breast cancer and a doctorrecommended the activity to build herstrength. After she died in 1991, hehelped write a law that wound up

producing hundreds of millions ofdollars for new bike paths and otheralternative transportation projects.Portland's Vera Katz EastbankEsplanade was one beneficiary of thatmoney.

Oberstar, still an avid recreationalcyclist at age 72, also played animportant role in winning more than$600 million last year for a program toencourage kids to ride and walk toschool and to provide safe ways forthem to do so. Just before the election,he announced that he'd push airportsto provide bike parking after a bicyclisthad his vintage cycle cut into pieces bysecurity officials at the Minneapolisairport. The cyclist, rushing to make aflight, had left the bike locked to anout-of-the-way pole after being unableto find any bike parking.

Oberstar could not be reached forcomment Tuesday, but his allies in thebike community said they expect himto help develop a new national strategyto encourage bicycling.

Clarke said cycling advocates havea chance to develop a national cyclingnetwork and to adopt a program thatencourages local planners to includepedestrian and bicycling improvementsin road projects. Oregon already doesthis through its 1971 Bicycle Bill, whichrequires that at least 1 percent ofhighway money be used toaccommodate biking and walking.

DeFazio said he and Oberstar arewell positioned to protect bicyclingfrom budget-cutting attempts by theadministration and to get federalagencies working together toencourage cycling and to improvesafety.

DeFazio, who noted the death of acyclist earlier this year on a road withnarrow shoulders west of Eugene, saidhe also wants to improve the safety ofrural roads popular with cyclists. Hesaid this would also help Oregon'sburgeoning efforts to encourage cycletourism.

Blumenauer said he has stronghopes of passing a bill he's sponsoredthat would allow bike commuters to beincluded in the program that gives

motorists and transit users a tax breakon commuting expenses through theiremployers.

"I think it's going to be a very goodsession for cycling," he said.

Gary Sjoquist, a bike industrylobbyist who runs a bicycling politicalaction committee, said he's found thatOberstar has always been willing toparticipate in bike-related events if agood ride is included.

"I'm really looking forward to goingon a nice bike ride with Jim," saidSjoquist. "I have a couple of ideas tofloat by him."

(c)2006 The Oregonian

More TosoliniThese are the technical data taken from Tosolini's Polar heart ratemonitor:

Distance: 750 miles (actually 753miles, because of the wrong turn)The last 250 miles have been riddensolo, all by myself.Total vertical ascent :30.000 feetAverage speed 15mphTime spent on the bike pedaling 42 hand 47’Average pedaling speed 17.5 mph.(25 minuties were spent walking orrunning up the hills)25,207 Kcal. burntMaximum speed 51mph


Ken, Velvet, & Dennis

Sometimes You Kick, Sometimes You Get Kicked Velvet Yates Reporting

On October 21, I rode my firstcentury, the Santa Fe Century.As it was my birthday, and I

have lost a substantial amount ofweight recently, it was also a symbolicvalidation of a new, healthier lifestyle.I rode as a member of Team Loser,captained by Dennis Guttman. I feltgreat throughout, and even pulledTeam Loser for a few miles headingout of the Worthington Springs reststop, around mile 75. For this feat,Dennis bestowed upon me thehonorific title of 'Biggest Loser of theDay.' It was a gloriousexperience. So whenDennis asked me, "Areyou doing the HorribleHundred?", my innerreaction was, 'sure, whynot? There are hills, buthow bad can they be – it'sFLORIDA.'

A n d s o amuch-streamlined versionof Team Loser (i.e.,Dennis and me) signed upfor the Horrible Hundred.(In light of later events, weretroact ive ly namedourselves Team Wherethe F*** Are We?). Wedid a few training rides inthe Horse Farm area, butdidn't have a chance toscout any of the Horrible climbsbeforehand. So we set off boldly intothe cold and dark morning ofNovember 20 to Clermont, Dennisriding with another GCC member, KenSallot, with me following behind. Wehad been warned to be there by 7:00a.m. for the 8:30 start time, as severalhundred riders were expected toparticipate.

My first clue that this was going tobe a difficult ride was the line for thewomen's bathroom at the startingarea. In fact, there was no line at allfor the women's bathroom, while theline for the men's bathroom was solong that some riders were relievingthemselves at the nearby retentionpond. MANY more male riders than

female – not a good sign. A quickvisual survey further revealed that themale riders in question werepredominantly whip-thin, A-rider types.Uh-oh. An inspection of the coursemap confirmed my suspicions – theorganizers had thoughtfully includedthe elevation profile, which looked likethe electronic readout of a major heartattack. The biggest spike appearedaround mile 80 – that must beSugarloaf Mountain – but there wereplenty of other spikes, only slightlyshorter, clustered in the first 40 and

last 20 miles of the course. Great!With so many riders, the start was a

bit nervous, and the pack didn't reallythin out comfortably until 15 or 20miles into the ride. At the first reststop, we encountered a problem thatall the rest stops would have: greenbananas. I was sympathetic, since Ihad volunteered at the lunch stop forthe Horse Farm Hundred, where wehad actually run out of bananasaltogether. We also started runninglow on Gatorade, at which point I wasmentally planning my escape route,rather than face an angry lycra-cladmob of cyclists denied bananas ANDGatorade (albeit watered-down). Nomatter what other tasty munchies areon offer, though, cyclists (like Dennis)

will grumble at the sight of inediblygreen bananas.

Even by the first rest stop, there hadbeen a few short hills that gave mepause, and I was sure they didn't evenregister on the heart-attack elevationprofile. The first 'hill' was complicatedby the fact that we were stillsurrounded by other cyclists, who werenow all flailing about at differentspeeds and in different directions.(Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea tohave Sugarloaf at mile 80.) By thesecond rest stop, around mile 30, I

had come face-to-facewith my limitations – andthey weren't pretty.

By this time, we had hitthe hills. On the first tworeal climbs, the steepestclimbs I had ever done, Ibarely made it – I felt like Icouldn't breathe, and wasafraid I was going to flopover to one side because Iwas going so slow. (Inretrospect, it is very usefulto know just how slow youcan go without floppingover; I was actually goingfaster than some otherriders, but was still in apanic about falling over.O r w o r s e , f a l l i n gbackwards.) I realized I

would have to reprogram my breathingrhythm to have any chance on a longerclimb. Apparently I did make it upsomething called 'The Wall,' sincethere were professional photographersat the top taking our pictures, which wecould purchase at the end of the ride.

Dennis was starting to suspect thatI was not the same rider who had been'Biggest Loser' at the Santa Fe. I wasstruggling on the climbs much morethan he was, and his visions of mepulling him along for the better part ofthe Horrible Hundred were beginningto evaporate. They vanishedcompletely at the base of the next bigclimb, when I took one look at theasphalt looming upward at a crazypitch, got off my bike, and walked.


Dennis gave me a concerned look ashe pedaled by, and waited for me atthe top, where we regrouped. Heanxiously asked if there was a bicyclemalfunction, to which I said no, therewas a Velvet malfunction. My abysmalperformance had just revealed what Ialways secretly knew: I suck atclimbing. I can muscle my waythrough rolling hills, like the ones onDungarvin Road, but when faced witha pure uphill grade, I am reduced to agasping, slow-moving, whimperingmass.

At the mile 45 rest stop, we reachedthe Emerald City. Quite literally; Ozwas the theme of this rest stop, andsevera l o f t hevolunteers wered r e s s e d a scharacters from theWizard of Oz. Here,Dennis and I weresurprised to see themuch speedier Ken;he explained that hehad broken twospokes and wasdone for the day – hewas getting a ride inthe SAG wagon backto the start. I wassecretly envious,being reminded of apassage from theclassic cycling novel,The Rider: thenarrator relates howsometimes you hopefor a flat tire in arace, just to have anexcuse to abandon.But my bike hasnever had a brokenspoke, and my tires are kevlar-beltedGatorskins, so no help there. Damn!But I was actually feeling a little betterabout things by this time, and settlinginto something of a rhythm; I had nodoubt that I would be walking upSugarloaf (Dennis: "Don't even thinkthat!"), but I felt like I could at leastfinish. So I complacently munched ona PBJ and some cookies while Denniscomplained about the inedible greenbananas; little did we realize that thiswould be the last outside source offood and liquid we would encounter forthe rest of the ride.

Throughout the ride thus far, we had

noticed a problem with the coursemarkings; it was unclear what thedifferent-colored arrows meant (weeventually confirmed with other ridersthat the magenta arrow was for thecentury route), and we had oftenencountered clusters of dismountedriders at intersections, peering at theirmaps and asking us which way wasthe right way. We were now supposedto go on a 15-mile loop, ending upback at the Emerald City (alsodoubling as the 60-mile rest stop).However, Dennis and I reached mile60 with no rest stop in sight. No othercyclists were in sight, either; a fewother cyclists, who kept asking us if we

were going the right way, hadapparently decided that we weren't,and turned at some point. We decidedto go a little further, and dead-ended atthe Van Fleet trail. We were tired, lost,and spouting expletives. Weeventually encountered a local cyclistheaded to the trail, who showed uswhere we were (or rather, weren't) onthe map. We had missed a left-handturn, and ended up taking a 15-miledetour. When we came back to wherewe had strayed off course, we stilldidn't see an arrow for the turn. Wegot back onto the loop with a renewedreverence for our own Arrow God

Chandler Otis, who always ensuresthat the arrows for the Santa Fe andHorse Farm courses occur at frequent,rational intervals and are highly visible.

By the time we returned to theEmerald City, Dorothy and Companyhad packed up and gone back toKansas. Faced with the prospect of nofresh supplies, reaching Sugarloafaround mile 100, and finishing in thedark, I pitched a major fit. Denniswanted to press ahead, but I am onlyslightly ashamed to admit that I calledthe SAG wagon. The driver couldn'tpick us up for at least half an hour,though. So I yielded to Dennis'proddings that we at least ride back to

the star t area,omitting Sugarloaf,half-believing thebare-faced lie of "I'msure there 's aconvenience storejust down the road."As it turned out, therewere no conveniencestores anywhere formiles around in anydirection. Dennisand I toiled up anddown hills (probablyunmarked on theelevation profile) formile after mile, in astate of disbelief atthe utter lack ofconvenience stores.We were reduced tor a t i o n i n g o u rremaining fluids. Wefinally limped back tothe starting area, with91 miles showing onthe odometer. Hot

dogs and Coke never tasted so good!Dennis says we can't wear our HorribleHundred t-shirts because we didn't doSugarloaf, but I think we sufferedenough to wear them.

Lance Armstrong said that you learnmore from a disappointing ride than asuccessful ride, so I know what I needto work on: 1) climbing; 2) losing moreweight; 3) learning how slow I can gowithout falling over; and 4) saving mymoney for that cycle computer with theGPS navigation system.


Tar Baby Rat Fetus By Nanci LeVake

It was early July. I was recovering froma bout of pneumonia that attacked outof nowhere. In the summer, no less.

Which prompted some "routine" bloodwork. Which led to the unexpecteddiscovery of a near-diabetic glucoselevel. The pneumonia had taken twelvepounds off me, and now, scared straight,it was seriously time to diet andexercise. My most recent physicalactivity was a grueling trail marathon theSunday before Memorial Day. It hadbeen a long time since I bikedreligiously, but I got on BF's oldroad-tired mountain bike and startedriding for my life. I had to drop theprincess act if I wished to ride nightly,and ride nightly I must. No moreconfining my rides to paved trails, safefrom bone-crushing, bike-manglingmotor vehicles. I bravely took to the ruralroads of my country neighborhood.

One evening, venturing further than Iever had before, I rounded a corner intothe bike lane. As I passed by, I glimpsedsomething- some...thing, out of thecorner of my eye, and my head nearlytwisted off my shoulders as I whippedaround for a second look. I'd seensomething odd laying on the ground, inthat netherworld between the bike laneand the grass, in the sandy area whereonly the hardiest of weeds grew, whereglass and nails collected. What was it?I couldn't tell. It was black, flat black,pitch black, tar black, and about the sizeof a small kitten or large rat. Completelyhairless, it lay in unnatural repose on itsback, with arms and legs out-flung. I waspast it so quickly I didn't have time totake in all the details, and it occupied myimagination throughout the rest of theride. When I passed on the oppositeside of the road on the way back, Iwatched for it, but, foreshadowing timesto come, I didn't cross for a second look.

Some people go through life with acontinual sense of wonder, others arejust counting the days. When I gothome, I couldn't wait to describe mystrange and exotic find to BF, but,predictably, he wasn't interested. Mystory trailed into nothingness. Whateverthe thing was, though, I couldn't stopthinking about this alien creature,striving to come up with a plausibleexplanation for it, a taxonomicdescription of it. I anxiously awaited mynext ride, and the following evening I

rounded the corner with almostunbearable anticipation. I expected thething to be further down the road ofdecomposition, putrification, meltingaway to nothing like that dog lastsummer, hit by a car and hidden by thecanopy of trees from nature'sundertakers, the vultures. Over theweeks, the dog had gradually vanished,dissolved by the harsh Florida summerelements until all that remained was agrease stain on the road. But themystery thing, it was not there, not there,not there, wait! Twenty feet down theroad, resting gently on its back in thelong grass, there it lay, unaffected by theweather, untouched by scavengers,unchanged. I tried to examine it as Iwent by- matte black, hairless, with along, gently-curled tail and roundedears, maybe a vaguely pointed snout,not so much cat-like as rat-like. But whydidn't it have fur? It seemedalmost...unborn. And why was it socompletely black? Had it been, could itpossibly have been dipped in tar?

Over the course of my next few rides,a set of rules of engagementdeveloped: no stopping to examine it, nogoing back for a second look, nocrossing the road to look again on theway home. I could only gather as muchinformation as one pass would allow.But I never really learned anythingbeyond my initial observations. By thethird or fourth visit, the thing hadacquired a descriptive name: Tar BabyRat Fetus. And now, with a name, itbecame a fixture of my rides: alandmark, an inanimate animal that Ispoke to in passing like the othercreatures on my route. "Hi Cowies, HiMr. Turtle, Hi Tar Baby Rat Fetus." BFwould inquire about my ride, and I wouldsay "Tar Baby Rat Fetus is still there."And it always was, fixed andunchanging, a constant. I introduced it tomy new road bike. "Lava, this is TarBaby Rat Fetus. I don't know what it is,but there it is."

Weeks passed, summer almostturned to fall, and one Sunday evening,BF and I were on our way to dinner atour friends'. As we drove by The Spot, Itold him to watch out the window for TarBaby Rat Fetus. I desperately wantedthem to meet. I don't know if he didn'tlook hard enough, but he couldn't spot it,and neither could I. The next evening, I

set off on my ride as usual. Halfwaythrough, something in me shifted- Iexperienced a sea change. No longercontent to merely pass by, I had thisurge not only to stop when I came to TarBaby Rat Fetus, but to take its picture,with my cell phone camera. Imagine myexcitement! I felt as though I knew thelocation of, and was about to establishproof of something fantastic andunbelievable, a legend, like the LochNess Monster, or the AbominableSnowman. I rounded the corner, alreadyunclipped, and Fred Flintstone'd to astop.

But Tar Baby Rat Fetus was notthere. There was no longer anything todocument. I searched in vain up anddown the shoulder of the road. Gone,definitely gone. Where would it go?Where _could_ it go? I didn't thinkanyone would kidnap it- heck, I wasprobably the only one who paid it anyattention or even noticed it at all. Then itcame to me. Saturday, as I rode atriangle of three small towns, I hadpassed a road clean-up crew, picking uptrash from a golf cart. I'd passed themgoing out, and coming back, thencontinued past my usual turn, andpassed them a third time on my wayback home. I waved at them, they wavedat me as they weaved through the longgrass in the ditch and out to the bikelane, picking up everything that didn'tbelong. That was it then, Tar Baby RatFetus had been tonged up like a piece oftrash. Like an empty beer can, a singleflattened shoe or an crushed cigarettepack, tossed into the blackness of aslick black garbage bag. Into a blacksack, like the black of Tar Baby RatFetus' smooth hairless skin, and it wasgone, never again to see the light of day.I felt a pang of regret in my heart. I amgoing to miss you, Tar Baby Rat Fetus!Why hadn't I ever stopped to solve themystery? I know why. Because I hadpreferred Tar Baby Rat Fetus to remainan enigma, rather than find a simpleexplanation for its inscrutable existence.Now it was going to be a mysteryforever. Maybe it's better that way.

There's always tomorrow, though. I'llkeep my eyes wide open as I roundthe corner, and maybe, just maybe...


Bike Flag By John Stokes

Iuse a magnetic pick-up tool fromSears that extends out 25 inchesand costs $4.99. Sears also has an

inspection mirror that extends out 36inches which I use also, depending onthe bicycle and route I am riding. Itcosts $9.99. With it I remove the mirrorand use the shaft only.

To attach the telescoping shaft tothe bike, I use a homemade rubberband made from an old mountain biketube. I simply cut two holes in eachend and attach to frame and shaft.This works much better than therubber bands I was using that camewith my Sigma computer.

There are various ways you canattach a flag or streamer to the shaft.Being a minimalist, I use a 6 inchreflective streamer from an old safetyvest. To the streamer I sewedfireman’s reflective tape that I got frommy father-in-law, a fireman. Thestreamer is attached to the shaft usinga simple office clip and paper clip. Themagnet on the end of the shaft keepsthe streamer at the end of the shaft.

When riding solo, I extend the flagout to maximum. When riding withfriends, I do not extend the flag andshorten it by doubling it up in the clip.

You could easily attach multiplestreamers, a triangle flag, blinkies, etc.to the shaft as your imaginationdictates. With heavier loads, the shaftdoes tend to sag so to remedy this, Iattach a second rubber band from theshaft to the brake bracket on the reardrops.

My next update on the design will beto find a way to attach a whip spring onthe shaft so if the shaft was hit, it

would not break off. The tube bandsare great for multiple uses when itcomes to attaching lights, radios,phones and all kinds of goodies to thebike! I am not sure if the design ofattaching the flag to the seat tube willwork since your leg would hit the shaft.On my mountain bike, with a shorterwheelbase, the flag has to be attachedto my rear carrier.

So far it seems I have been given awider berth from vehicles.


Congratulations Twin Century Riders

These persons registered to ride both the Saturn Santa FeCentury and the Horse Farm Hundred.

Acosta Jorge Brandon FLAdams Neal Gainesville FLAllgood Royce Cape Coral FLAnderson Kevin Gainesville FLAnderson Scott Orlando FLArp Brett Orlando FLAzoulay Daniel Miami Beach FLBaker Ralph Altamonte Springs FLBargnesi Thomas Oviedo FLBeckham Mike Gainesville FLBegnaud Steve Denver COBigos Matt Merritt Island FLBjornsson Johann Orlando FLBlakely George Tallahassee FLBlixt Lisa Tampa FLBlount Lisa Winter Springs FLBone Ellen Orlando FLBrockett Robert Lecanto FLBrooks Dennis Micanopy FLBroome Dan Oviedo FLBruzos Jose Miami FLCalvary Jeff Lakeland FLCarver Cathy Auburndale FLCarver Harvey Auburndale FLChoate Paul Gainesville FLChopyak Ron Plantation FLClaeboe Christopher Zachary LAClark Adam Gainesville FLCooper Patrick Tallahassee FLCopp Jay M. Seminole FLCosimi Ivan Port Orange FLCottrell Britton Dunnellon FLCourtney Charles Gainesville FLCrawford Linda Titusville FLCreel Gwen Gainesville FLD'Agostino John Boca Raton FLDeCastro Juan Gainesville FLDickinson Tom Gainesville FLDoherty Sean Longwood FLDunn John Tallahassee FLEmerick Jack Lakeland FLFairfield Barry Gainesville FLFrye James Casselberry FLGauvin Dennis R. Tampa FLGeorges Deborah Miami Beach FLGibson John Orange Park FLGies Larry Orlando FLGreene Jonathan Oviedo FLGum David Lakeland FLGuttman Dennis Gainesville FLHoffman Tom Melbourne Bch FLHudspith Ted Winter Park FLInderwiesen Kristin Orlando FLIsaacs Bill New Port Richey FLJacobson Yaniv Pompano Beach FLKavan Paul Tampa FLKavan Robin Tampa FLKeith Darius Port Orange FLKramer Mark Orlando FLKubier Rod Longwood FL

LeBoutillier Phil Ft Myers FLLorenz Robbin St Petersburg FLMarchand Tom Jacksonville FLMarsh Kenneth Orange Park FLMartin George Dunedin FLMartin Jean Dunedin FLMaso Maurizo J. Winter Park FLMathews Kenneth R. Gainesville GAMcNeal Barbara Havana FLMingus Eddie Mulberry FLMohan Thomas Ocala FLMonaco Rocco Winter Park FLMorris Ross Ft. Lauderdale FLMuddle William Cape Canaveral FLNaylor Carol D. Ocoee FLOrthoefer Joe Gainesville FLOrthoefer John C. Gainesville FLPalmer George Tallahassee FLParnell William Melbourne FLPavelka Ed Kutztown PAPerfect Gail Margate FLPhillip Lennox Kissimmee FLPrice Alex Mc Intosh FLPrince Tom Longwood FLPyle Liesl Denver COReason Jessica Orlando FLReich Bo Alachua FLRetter Candy Tamarac FLRetter Frank Tamarac FLReynolds Jim Tallahassee FLRoberts Bill Reddick FLRobins Rob Gainesville FLRobinson Michael Gainesville FLRosenbloom Mark Indialantic FLRumohe David Ocoee FLSallot Ken Gainesville FLSan Agustin Chris Orlando FLSegura Carlos Newberry FLSmith Carlos Alachua FLSmith Kimberly Orlando FLSolley Tom Wilmington NCStevens Carol Winter Park FLStevens Danny Dunnellon FLStevens Robert Dunnellon FLSzedlacsek Peter Winter Park FLTosolini Andrea Gainesville FLTwyman Susan Casselberry FLVaes Lambert Gainesville FLVaile Marsha Palm Coast FLWard Kevin Gainesville FLWarren Mike Gainesville FLWells Tom. Gainesville FLWood Thomas R. Lakeland FLWoodruff Andy Ft. Myers FLYates Gary Gainesville FL


BUSINESS SPONSORS

These businesses provide discounts to club members who present their yellow membership card or the back page of theirnewsletter (with expiration date):

Bike Route 10% 374-4550 3429 West University Avenue (Westgate Regency)Bikes & More 10% 373-6574 2113 NW 6th AvenueChain Reaction 20% 373-4052 1630 West University AvenueGator Cycle 10% 373-3962 3321 SW Archer RoadMr Goodbike 10% 336-5100 425 NW 13th StreetPedalers Pub & Grille 10% http://www.pedalerspubandgrille.com/gcc (Exotic cycling tours)Recycled Bicycles 10% 372-4890 805 West University AvenueSpin Cycle 22% 373-3355 425 West University AvenueStreit's Schwinn Cyclery 10% 377-2453 4421 NW 6th StreetSusan Bridges Massage 10% 262-8240 901 NW 8th Ave, Suite A1

Some restrictions apply, ask for details at the store.

The Gainesville Cyclist 5015 NW 19th Place Gainesville FL 32605-3435

EDITORRoger Pierce [email protected]

ADVERTISING MANAGERvacant

BIKE STORE LIAISONDiann Dimitri [email protected]

The Gainesville Cyclist is published bi-monthlywith cover dates of even-numbered months. Allsubmissions are welcome.Classified ads will be run free-of-charge for clubmembers; email or mail to the editor.Ads are $20 for a standard size ad, $40 for aquarter page ad, and $80 for a half page ad. Aone year (six issue) subscription for standardsize ads is $100.

AD GRAPHICSCraig Lee [email protected]

FEBRUARY DEADLINES

Ad copy needing setup workJanuary 13

Articles and classifiedsJanuary 17

Ads in GIF or TIFF formatJanuary 20

© 2006 Gainesville Cycling Club, Inc.

C L A S S I F I E D

GCC club bike shorts, VO MAXmodel, red stripe with the yellow GCCtext on the side. Size large. These arevery good condition, clean, wornmaybe ten times. Will sell for $30.Rob Wilt 380-0561 or email me [email protected]

Oceanfront 1 bedroom resort condoin Daytona Beach. Unit has full kitchenand direct pool and beach access.Family oriented resort. Rent by day orlonger. Great cycling in Daytona. CallJim or Conchi Ossa for rates and info.3 5 2 / 3 3 2 - 2 4 4 5 o [email protected].

W H E W !W H E W !W H E W !W H E W !

This time of year, some strip offtheir riding clothes after a rideand note “They’re not even

damp!”, and proceed to put them onthe ready rack to be used again on thenext ride.

What “some” do not realize is thateven in the colder temperatures weride in these days, we do sweat quite abit, and the biological leftovers arethere, even if the moisture hasevaporated into the dry winter air.

In the warmth of your home, theseleftovers become the home to billionsof bacteria, who quietly set uphousekeeping.

Now billions of bacteria produce asignificant amount of waste products,which accumulate in your jerseys andshorts. These waste products have a

very distinctive odor which most of usfind somewhat unpleasant.

When these jerseys and shorts areworn by the rider in front of us, thewind carries a steady stream of thisodor back, which can only be avoidedby moving well out of the draft, or bygetting in front of the offending jerseyand shorts (and their wearer).

PLEASE, don’t come out on a groupride with unlaundered jerseys, shorts,and base layers. The rest of us wouldlike to enjoy the crisp, clean, winter airwithout feeling like we’re riding througha laundry basket!


Santa FeCentury

# #

Gainesville Cycling Club Horse FarmHorse FarmHorse FarmHorse Farm

5015 NW 19th PlaceGainesville FL 32605-3435

Hundred Hundred Hundred Hundred

DECEMBER 2006 ISSUE Mailing label with expiration date identifies current member.

ONLINE EDITION

2007 Gainesville Cycling Festival Gainesville Cycling Festival Gainesville Cycling Festival Gainesville Cycling Festival - 20-21 Oct - Santa Fe Century - Horse Farm Hundred

Welcome New Members!Christina Adams Gainesville FLSerrhel Adams Gainesville FLArthur Barnes Gainesville FLOwen Baynard Chiefland FLTerri Bidwell Gainesville FLRichard Browning Gainesville FLMichelle Carmichael Gainesville FLPatrick Carmichael Gainesville FLCathy Carver Auburndale FLHarvey Carver Auburndale FLShelbi Day Gainesville FLBob DuPerry Gainesville FLKay Fellows Interlachen FLJohn Ferrigno Granville MAVictor Garrido Gainesville FLRick Gilly Ambler PAMatthew Gladdish Gainesville FLWoody Graham Columbia SCScott Green Birmingham ALSandy Greenwood Gainesville FL

Carol Heissenberg Gainesville FLKathryn Hurd Gainesville FLBrock Kehoe Gainesville FLPeter Mauro Gainesville FLAnn McElwain Gainesville FLBecky Minnick Gainesville FLRoger Montes Alachua FLPeter Noris Gainesville FLBuster O'Connor Gainesville FLJerry Odonovan Gainesville FLDavid Rice Corinth NYBill Roberts Reddick FLCathy Roberts Reddick FLEthel Roberts Reddick FLRob Robins Gainesville FLIzzg Rudin Rush Gainesville FLJustin Sapp Gainesville FLBarbara Schanze Gainesville FLDerek Schanze Gainesville FLKirk Schanze Gainesville FL

Beth Shoup Gainesville FLJoe. Suarez Fort White FLBryan Terry Gainesville FLHeather Terry Gainesville FLShannon Terry Gainesville FLThomas Yang Gainesville FLAbbas Yazdi Gainesville FL

Documents

O N L I N E E D I T I O N Happenings The Gainesville Cyclistgccfla.org/pdf/December2006.pdf · 2016. 9. 24. · The Gainesville Cyclist The bi-monthly newsletter of the Gainesville