Champion the Cure Challenge Century Ride

Champion the Cure Challenge

A Great Century Ride for a Terrific Cause

August 18, 2012

Supporting Cancer Care in Eastern Maine

I’ve been friends with the Lafayette and Rawcliffe families for the last 50 years, and actively involved with cancer charities for the last 12 – so when Dan Lafayette and Rudy Rawcliffe invited me up to a century (100 miles) bicycle ride to support the local cancer center in my home town I jumped at the chance. The Lafayette family generously helped build one of the best designed and well operated outpatient cancer centers in New England as part of the Eastern Maine Medical Center, located in Brewer Maine.

My business takes me through a lot of cancer centers, and this is one of the most smoothly functioning and patient friendly that I have ever seen. Their use of advanced technology – like RFID supported operations – is second to none, and yet they clearly operate with the best “patient centric” focus.

                 

At the start at 6:30 AM

I was delighted to find that the century ride was as well designed and executed as the cancer center that it supports. The ride starts in Brewer, and heads up the east side of the Penobscot River (Routes 178 & 2) for 40 miles – all the way to Howland. This is paved shoulder, high speed bicycle cruising at its finest – dead flat with long straight highway. We averaged over 20 mph for a lot of this portion of the ride – it was simply a blast.

This part of Maine very recently “emerged” from the Atlantic (in the last few thousand years) due to glacial rebound, and it is still principally unconsolidated, flat lying, sea bottom sediments. The trip to Howland clung to this low lying river country along the Penobscot River providing beautiful views of the river for most of the this section.

 

Quiet water along the Penobscot River

Turning south and west in Howland (Routes 6 & 155), we headed into interior Maine into slightly more rolling country, but with freshly paved road surface (thanks to Federal stimulus money) and no traffic – I mean no vehicles at all. This lacked the spectacular river views of the morning, but was great bicycling for another 30 miles or so. Along the way the SAG stops were well stocked and staffed with some wonderful friendly people and great amenities – this was a really well organized ride.

The century route is marked in blue

 

Hampden Horseflies

Four old friends relaxing at the SAG stop in East Corinth

Wes Chapman, Stan Spencer, Rudy Rawcliffe and Bill Deighan

Ramsey Lafayette & Rudy Rawcliffe in Lagrange

Well stocked SAG stops

We joined Routes 15 and 11 in East Corinth, and the traffic picked up noticeably, but wherever we were on principal highways – there were paved shoulders. The route spent precious little time on major highways until we got into metropolitan Bangor, when the traffic increased – but not for very long. Most of the final 10 miles was winding through residential neighborhoods and back across the Penobscot to the Cancer Center in Brewer.

This is a very easy ride (for a century), and extremely well organized. The roads are flat, well maintained, and the traffic minimal. This is “everyman’s” century, and great for the self-esteem of the weekend warrior bicyclist. If you are thinking of trying out a century for the first time, coming back after an injury or suffering through a summer of too much food and not enough training – grab a slot in the Champion the Cure Challenge. These folks run a great century and the cause is terrific – we hope to see you next year.

Teammates coming in

Rudy & Wes at the finish

Stan makes it home

Adios, from Champion the Cure Challenge

Ride the Rockies, Day 7 – Alamosa to Salida

The day started out in a particularly mellow fashion, appropriate for a day of little climbing and steady tailwinds. Stan and I had breakfast with a municipal sanitation engineer from Milwaukee that we met with his wife in the hot tub the night before. At his suggestion we caught the early bus back to Alamosa for an early start to a hot and windy day. The day promised some entertainment, as we were going by Colorado’s own alligator farm and alien (think outer space, not illegal) visitors greeting center, equally seemingly misplaced in this cold high desert. Both are apparently drawn to and facilitated by the hot springs in the area, and the local’s wild imaginations.

The most interesting geology in the area is the peculiar hydrology. The San Luis Valley is about 60 miles long, and is surrounded by very high mountains that receive over 100 inches of precipitation per year. The valley floor is dead flat, well sorted, sub-glacial sediments, which are amazingly porous and permeable, and absorb 100% of this runoff. There are no surface streams and the resulting aquifer is several thousand feet deep, and lies just below the surface. Perhaps the Aliens are attracted to this water for cooling their anti-matter propulsion units. It’s as good an explanation as any.

The morning started out at 32 degrees, and we were bundled up. The first seventy one miles of the trip were quite monotonous, and I spent most of the time standing to pedal, as after 500 miles in seven day my butt was simply bruised meat. At least that is how it felt to me. The only pass-time we had was guessing the distance of notable features in the distance and then measuring as we rode. Pretty dull.
We crested the summit at 11:30 into, what we used to call on Wall St., a relief rally. There a palpable sense of relief, and people were getting about as raucous as tired bicyclists get, which is to say smiling and hugging people known to them. The DJ was on top giving away free T-shirts, and struck up the ubiquitous Colorado Rocky Mt. High and we saddled up for the descent. I couldn’t listen to that even one more time, without being moved to unkind thoughts about the untimely drunken demise of John Denver in his ultra-light aircraft.

The descent was fast, fun and straight. We both beat out a couple of young and beautiful bicyclists who clearly did not understand the physics behind sectional density. Stan and I are old and heavy, but unbeatable going downhill. Revenge was ours at the end. We were very glad that the ride did not end on a climb where physics favors the light.

The scene in Salida was great, and I’ve always liked this little town on the Arkansas River. We went up to Buena Vista for a little rafting on the way home, where we encountered the comic highlight of the day. The River here is pretty mellow, and people use little 3-4 man rafts with canoe paddles. A group of 5-6 rafts came by and pulled into the landing that we were using. The last raft had two guys in it, with an inflatable love doll strapped to the stern as the third passenger. This strange juxtaposition of the sublime and the ridiculous reduced Stan and me to laughing fits. The ladies on the shore were mortified.

So ended the great 25th Anniversary Ride the Rockies Tour for us. Stay tuned for Mt. Rainier in July.

RTR Day 6 – Wolf Creek Pass

The day started out in a particularly auspicious fashion. I got on the bus at the hotel at Pagosa Springs and sat across from two attractive young women. It turns out that they were both from Denver, and after a few minutes of riding their talk turned to ladies biking fashion. Both were wearing combination biking shorts/skirts, and they were extolling the virtues of these garments to the lady sitting in front of them. The first one said, “I love the way that they hide the padding in the shorts from behind”. Sticking with the coverage theme, the second said, “Well I love the way they cover up the camel toe in the front”. You have to admire the directness of the women from Denver.

The morning started out at 34 degrees, and we were bundled up. The first sixteen mile was a mellow climb of 500 feet, but with the anticipation of the pass to come. Wolf Creek Pass is the steepest major Pass in Colorado, with steady, relentless climbing in the 7-9% range for 8 miles. There was a wreck of an 18 wheeler (loaded with Dr. Pepper) from the night before near the bottom. The Driver was fine, and sitting on the guard rail looking morose. He was very lucky, as the Jersey barriers prevented a 250 foot drop into the valley below.

We crested the summit at 10:00 into a fairly raucous environment. There is a traveling DJ with the tour who was set up on top, playing an endless stream of rock from the 60’s and 70’s. I think that I’ve heard Colorado Rocky Mt. High and Take it Easy no less than ten times each this week. The descent from Wolf Creek is the best on the Tour this year. They have done a lot of road work since I was last here 20 years ago, and the road is straight, three lanes, wide shoulders and really, really fast. We both hit speeds in excess of 50 mph – it was simply glorious. At the bottom in South Fork we ate BBQ served by a Mexican who told each and every diner, “Jesus loves you, and so do I”. I couldn’t tell if he was preaching or looking for a date – maybe both.

The next 15 miles was some of the fastest and hottest traveling over flat ground that I’ve ever done on a bicycle. A 25 knot tail wind and you can really fly. Unfortunately the road turned, and the wind shifted to a cross/head wind for the remaining 34 miles to the finish. Fortunately, our motel room for the night was in the town of Monte Vista, directly on the route and 15 miles from the finish. The town of Monte Vista is the potato capital of Colorado, and the locals served free baked potatoes to the passing bikers. We ate a baked potato, took a nap, and powered into Alamosa to complete the day.

Tomorrow is the last day of the tour, an 84 mile straight shot north up the San Luis Valley and over Poncha Pass into Salida, one of my favorite places in this part of the world. There we join up with Stan’s son Clifton for a raft trip down the river, or head north to climb a 14er (the term used out here for 14,000 foot mountains).

RTR Day 5 – Durango to Pagosa Springs

The highlight of my night life in Durango was an $8.00 buffet all you can eat pizza and salad joint across the street from the Quality Inn in Durango. They were invaded by ravenous bikers, completely swamping the kitchen and wait staff. We had bikers bussing tables, working in the kitchen, and even occasionally paying before leaving. It was the first time in my life that I saw a restaurant owe more to the diners for services rendered than diners owed for food. It was a model of self organization.

The ride today from Durango was simply wonderful, but quite long. We did two minor passes and rode a long way through fruit orchards – beautiful but not awe inspiring. In addition to level going, we enjoyed a tailwind most of the day. It is a great rest day before tomorrow, which includes Wolf Creek Pass stuck in the middle of a 93 mile ride.

In terms of colorful characters today, I’m joined this evening by Stan Spencer, a friend since 4th grade, and a co-conspirator in most of the more colorful transgressions of my youth. Stan is self-described as “a fat, one-lunged diabetic”. Most of this is at least partly true. He is diabetic and lost half (not all) of a lung in a skiing accident in A Basin a few years ago. He is skinnier than me, and therefore not fat, at least on a relative basis. We compete, among other things, on the basis of excuses prior to any athletic undertaking. Fortunately, the mileage I’ve done this week, together with my normal litany of replacement parts (hip, back etc.) gives me an unassailable position in excuses. He’ll probably show up on crutches or with a missing limb.
 
The other character was a guy I rode in with for the last ten miles or so. He was a good bicyclist, and beat me in at the end. In talking to him afterwards, it turns out that he is from Jackson Mississippi, and used to work for Paul McMullan, the brother of an old friend, Pat McMullan, who is one of the people receiving this blog. I told him that I had about had it with riding bikes with guys from Jackson MS, as I’ve only ridden with two of them, and they both kicked my butt.

I hope to get that very sore butt into the hot springs for which this town is named this evening. We may even find a restaurant where they do the cooking.

RTR Day 4 – Ouray to Durango

The exit from Ouray goes straight up 3,500 feet with no warm-up. We took off into a brisk headwind that kicked up around 6:00 am, straight down the mountain. The highway was a characteristically funky WPA affair with hand drilled blast holes, lots of skinny tunnels, and no guard rails above some really big drops. This was a three pass day, Red Mountain (11,000-), Molas Pass (10,750), and Coal Bank Pass (10,100). That is a lot of time at altitude, particularly with a stiff headwind. The headwinds prevented the hoped for personal land speed record, as some of the roads were really quite steep. The Sag Wagons were working overtime, and I saw people rolling in as late as 7:15 pm after 13 hours in the saddle – a very long day indeed.

This is old mining country, with works scattered around the countryside where ever the intrusive granite hit shale, a country rock favorable for mineral deposition. Most of the old mines today are going through some environmental remediation. The mountains are the most spectacular in the State, and the attached photos don’t really do them justice.

Most of the characters that I met today were aging hippies, still leading the life of the 60’s, as necessarily modified by 50-60 year old guys. Two in particular merit some comment. The first, Todd, I met while taking a photo near the top of Molas Pass. He had grown up in Wyoming, but found the pressure there too intense, and so moved to one of the outer islands in Hawaii. He was dressed entirely in white and silver – a heavenly apparition from a different time.

The second was an interesting guy named Dan who still dressed in the colorful garb of the 60’s, outlandish even by bicycling standards. He wore rose colored, round, clip-on sun glasses, and, in aggregate, reminded me of what Captain Kangaroo would look like to someone on LSD. “He was a trip man”. I met Dan and his girl friend while having some lunch after the ride. I had seen him on the ride several times, and he was a strong rider and had to figure out who this guy was – it was just too intriguing.

Dan had lived all over the world, but had spent most of the time since college (at CU) in Maine and Australia. He worked in a variety of medical related areas (lung association, heart etc.). We had a couple of good laughs about the ups and downs of life in Maine, and they gave me some organic carrots and snap peas. I guess they must be good for you, because they helped a goofy looking guy like Dan ride a bike like a demon. I thanked them and ate a bunch – it couldn’t hurt.
Tomorrow is a long day with two sub 8,000 foot summits. I hope the wind dies down.

Climbing the Mighty Grand Mesa with RTR

The Grand Mesa is the biggest flat topped mountain in the world. It dwarfs all of the other surrounding mesas (the Grand’s is bigger) and even sports a fairly distinct ecosystem at the top. Today’s ride started out in the rain at 6:30. Given the enormous climb, I figured that what I needed was a good early start. Everyone seemed to share this view, as I was pretty well back in the group of 2,000+ riders at the start.

The first 40 miles was easy climbing along the Colorado River. I hooked on with three guys affiliated with Mellow Johnny’s Bike Shop in Austin TX (owned by Lance Armstrong). It was kind of like waterskiing, being pulled by these guys. I did not take a turn at the front, so as not to embarrass myself. We rode for about ten miles on Interstate 70, which is always fun, and a little scary, and then turned right, going up the hill.

It was twenty miles of climbing between 6-11% grades, endless and remorseless. It was very hard. At the bottom of the hill the rest stopped was mobbed, long waiting lines – a real mess. We rode up into the clouds, and into the lightning. This was also scary.

By the time I got to the top, the crowd had thinned out considerably. It was a funny bi-modal distribution – fat people that rode to the top in the sag wagons, and a bunch of real hammer head cyclists, and me, comfortably fitting between the two groups. I met a guy at the top from Concord NH, and he took my picture (see attached). I think that I talked him into riding the Prouty. I sent out a SPOT satellite message from the top, which I hope was received through my special Twitter network.
I figured out why the Grand Mesa exists as such a unique physical feature. It is capped with a layer of massive basalt several hundred feet thick, with a number of clearly visible flows. It is much harder and more erosion resistant than the weak limestone, shale and sandstone that make up most of the rock in the area.

In terms of the road, the descent was the best I’ve ever seen. It is all good pavement, with long wide switch backs. I hardly touched the brakes. In terms of the weather, it was the worst descent (the top ten miles) that I’ve ever had. Hail, cold rain and about 35 degrees on the top (and still big snow banks). It was just about holding on and trusting to luck – and so far so good. The bottom 20 miles of the descent was good weather, and glorious signing of The Battle Hymn of the Republic. I was feeling good and singing at the top of my lungs. Apparently, it was effective at traffic control, as the other cyclists generally pulled over and let me pass. I guess that they wanted no part of the potential of divine intervention.

After a massage and a 30 minute bus ride, I arrived at the motel – the Country Lodge in Montrose. They have a 5×6 elk on the wall and a heavily tattooed lady behind the desk who introduced herself as Snake.

 May God bless the great American West.

Tomorrow is an easy day and should facilitate some Mexican dining. Stay tuned.