Recuperation

It has taken a while to recover from the crash. While my helmet saved me, I landed squarely on the head so my neck took the full weight of the fall. Needless to say, it is taking a while for the tissue to repair itself. The doctor says I can't get on a bike until I'm pain-free. While every day is a little better, progress is agonizingly slow. I canceled the New York ride this weekend. I was only doing it because it sounded like a lot of fun: riding around the Hudson River valley. The next century is scheduled for July 31, some two weeks from now. I expect I'll be cleared to ride, but will I still be century-ready?

Alas, every challenge has its setbacks. I'll get there. It just might take me a bit longer. I really don't like doing centuries in July anyway. It's just too danged hot!

The Crash

Stillwater, OK. Well, I suppose it was inevitable. I crashed. On my Oklahoma century -- the Tour of Payne -- I rode 57 miles on wide, paved, smooth shoulder. At mile 57, however, the state highways department installed a big, bad rumble strip right in the middle of the shoulder. (See picture.) I came upon this without seeing it. In fact, I was taking a picture of the Payne County sign (documenting the “Tour of Payne”.) Thus, I had only one hand on the handlebars as my bike became instantly unridable. This wasn’t just a mild rumble strip – it had 6” long, deep ridges. I hit the strip head on, and tumbled over the handlebars. I hit face first into the rumble strip. There was no chance to recover as the bike simply went out from under me.

Most of the damage was to my face. I also hit on the helmet, and this pushed my neck back. In fact, it’s the neck pain that will probably keep me from riding for a while. I had an X-ray to determine if there was nothing broken, and it just appears to be muscle strain.

I have substantial bruise marks where the helmet contacted the skull. Clearly, the helmet saved me a lot of injury, and may have saved my life. Of course, I need to buy another.

I was picked up by two brothers – good Samaritans – who dropped me and my bike at my hotel. They were both from Stillwater and both were from Oklahoma State. One graduated and started his own graphic arts business, the other graduates in December. I was reluctant to accept a ride because I realized I would get some blood on their interior. I said as much, and they insisted. Refusing help was silly in the bright heat in the middle of nowhere in Oklahoma. And, I needed to get checked out for any serious injuries. “This is just what people from Oklahoma do,” they said. I told them they should be proud of themselves.

I’ve decided to count the OK century. The brothers who helped me declared, “I think you should count this.”

In reality, I was on pace to finish. I had been making 12.2 mph overall, and 13.5 mph moving average. I had started early, so I was approaching the town of Yale and the 62-mile rest stop by about 11:10. Clouds had provided shade for the first 60 miles. The sun was beginning to burn through, and it was a hot ride in the 'rescue car' back to Stillwater. It would have been an uncomfortable 42 miles (in which there would be several ‘groaner’ uphills), but I think I would have been able to complete the ride. In fact, I can say that I experienced the best the event had to offer. I think, however, I would have enjoyed doing the swimming pool at Cushing – the 77-mile point.

Recovery may take a bit. Fortunately, the 50-state quest is not scheduled to resume until the end of July. I may miss a New York century, but NY is already complete. I'm just doing it for fun.

Missouri: Tour de Loco & Joplin

Joplin, MO. I just completed 100 miles of hot southwestern Missouri farm roads. The Tour de Loco begins and ends in Mount Vernon, MO. It is run by the Locozmos bike club, and wanders around some pretty Missouri countryside. I did 66 miles in the morning, finishing that segment at around 1PM. The temperatures by then were pushing 100 degrees. I decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and finished the last 34 miles from my hotel in Joplin after the temperature went down. Running a century in the heat of the day in summer is a questionable venture.

Riding around Joplin, of course, was a sobering experience. Last May 22nd, the town was devastated by the deadliest tornado to hit the US since 1957. The broad-front twister cut a swath a mile wide and eight miles long. It devastated about 15% of the city of Joplin, and barely missed the downtown.

Six weeks later, Joplin has barely begun to recover. The devastation along the path of the tornado was complete. As you crest over a ridge, you are greeted with the sight of debris, wrecked structures, and broken trees. There was absolutely nothing left standing along the centerline path.

Debris removal has just barely begun. Less than 10% of the structures have been cleared to the slab. Some businesses have brought in temporary structures and reopened. Some have moved and placed signs to their new location. It was inspirational to see "We are open!" signs.

The people of Joplin face massive problems. Looters struck the wrecked areas quickly. Recently, a rare fungus infection has struck many of the survivors. It will take years to rebuild their city, but their determination, their love of God, life, and country, and their unbreakable spirit make recovery simply a matter of time. I rode with tears in my eyes for miles.

I've included a picture of Joplin High School. It will have to be completely rebuilt. School was not in session when the tornado hit. In fact, seniors were graduating at a college nearby, away from the tornado. The picture does not do justice to the massive scale of the destruction.

Interregnum

I've been out of the century business, now, for over five weeks. This is a planned break: I had booked a cruise for early June 2011 last summer -- before I decided to get back in shape and resume the century quest. Add in a little family business, and the last long bike ride I took was in late May. I tried a 50-mile ride in the heat about a week ago, and it was a difficult slog.

Thus, I approach this weekend's double-header with trepidation. On Saturday, I'm booked to do the Tour de Locos in Mt. Vernon, MO. This is in the southwestern part of the state in an area with rolling hills. High temperature expected to be 94 degrees. So, I need to:

• Start early
• Take it easy
• Drink lots of Gatorade
• Rest often

I take Sunday off, and on Monday, the 4th, I'll be doing the Tour of Payne in Stillwater, OK -- high temperature of 96. There will be fewer hills. I'll need to:

• Start early
• Take it easy
• Drink lots of Gatorade
• Rest often

By Tuesday I should be back in air conditioning. I expect to take a few days off.

I think it's important that I realize the goal: to complete centuries in every state. I set no boundaries on how long I would take to do a century or how fast a pace I would maintain. Thus, if this weekend ends and I have another 200 miles on the odometer, it will have been a success. I should think about leaving my watch at home.

Iowa and Nebraska

Bellevue, NE. Today I completed the "Spoke and Hub" century, which began in Bellevue and moved through the Loess Land on either side of the Missouri River. This was hosted by the great folks at the Bellevue Bicycle Club. Loess is a German word meaning "if you think this is the top of the hill, think again!" Or something like that.

Headwinds were a problem for several stages in this ride. There was a blustery wind up from the South for the whole day. Normally, headwinds only affect half the ride. But, the course had significant diagonal segments with a Southerly vector, which just seemed to prolong the pain for hours. The few Northbound segments lasted only minutes (especially at 20 mph!).

Half way through this ride I had an opportunity to try out the local bike shop, Olde Towne Cyclery operated by Todd. I had noticed my rear wheel had worked its way loose on its axle during the Iowa segment. Todd did the tightening job -- which included removing the cassette -- and had me back on the road in minutes. He even used a torque wrench to re-attach the cassette -- a rare practice in modern bike mechanics. Where would we be without our local bike shops? I, certainly, could never complete the 50 Centuries Project.

Once again, I rode during a perfectly-fitting window in the weather. Before the ride, showers blew through the Omaha area. And, by the time I had returned to my hotel, showered, and sat down at the local Council Bluffs restaurant, the heavens had opened up for several hours of drenching rain. During the ride, however, the sun slowly burned away the clouds so that by the afternoon, I was glad to be wearing sunscreen. Lots of windburn, though!

Biking in the rain was not the only weather problem I avoided. As I checked in my rental car, the agent told me mine was the first she had seen without hail damage all day. Welcome to summer!

This is the end of my springtime centuries. I will resume my quest after a short break in July.

More photos on my Webshots page.

Half Way Mark!

With the completion of New Jersey's Rotary 100, I am now half-way through my quest.

Progress has happened in fits and starts since I first learned how to keep a two-wheeled vehicle upright back in 1957 in Milton, Massachusetts. There have been long stretches of my life when I did almost no bicycling at all, including the period from 2007 to 2010.

But, for every uphill there's a downhill, and I can feel myself gaining momentum. If the schedule cooperates and bike and body continue to function, I should be able to finish off 12 more centuries in 2011. If I complete only a fraction of that, this will be my best century year yet.

I'll never be the first across the finish line. Becoming a fast rider is not my goal. "Start first; finish last; have the best time," is my mantra. It has a number of side-benefits. If I pace myself, I will probably see everybody on the ride at least once. I notice more things. At some point I need to write a blog entry on "Weird Things I Saw in the Road". I can also take more pictures if I'm not watching the clock. I found that, years after an event, I have a hard time remembering what kind of day it was, or what did I see on the ride.

All of which reminds me, I need to begin to update my photo album.

Rotary 100

Burlington, NJ. Rotary 100. New Jersey deems itself the Garden State, and I had often heard that beyond the I-95 corridor and urban sprawl they have much to back this up. There were peach orchards, cranberry bogs, tree farms, and more horses than I saw in Kentucky! Most of central New Jersey is a bicyclist's playground: well-paved, uncrowded roads with gently-rising and dropping terrain. The drivers were models of courtesy. It was no wonder that I saw numerous cyclists and cycling groups riding around on this cloudy -- and eventually rainy -- Saturday.

The Rotary 100 is put on by the local Rotary club. Rotary sponsors several nice centuries across the country and uses them as fundraisers. They have been running the Rotary 100 for several years, and it shows. The roads were particularly quiet. I remember several road segments in which I had seen no cars. After a while, my instincts normally tell me that this is just a lull, and I should expect a platoon of vehicles soon. But, as I looked in the mirror I found, instead, that I had the road to myself.

In fact, there were 'too many' cyclists on the road. As I approached one intersection, a person with a Stop sign on a stick had me wait for a bike race to blow through. I asked him how far they were racing, and he said, "Nine miles!" I pedaled off to do the rest of my 102 with a big grin on my face.

My weather luck would not hold forever, however, and so I had to ride in the rain. At about mile 60 the forecast showers began in earnest, and continued -- on and off -- until the end. Of the handful of century riders (it's early season, and few people choose the 100-mile option), I was the only one who brought any rain gear. The rain was light (at first), and I considered toughing it out. But, I eventually realized there was no reason to carry a gore-tex jacket in the rain. (When you are concentrating on finding the next turn, sometimes common sense takes a back seat.)

This is one ride in which I lived my motto, "Start first; finish last; have the best time." I passed a few of the faster riders, but they eventually pushed past me. One very nice local rider, Dave, rode with me for quite a while and gave me much of the local lore. He called this "spandex country" because of all the cyclists around, and insisted that this affected driver behavior. New Jersey allows cyclists to ride two-abreast on low-traffic roads. We did just this for many miles as the occasional vehicle flowed around us without objection. Dave also told me about the upcoming terrain (flat!), the cranberry bogs, and the need to save some energy for the hills at the end. It was nice to feel welcome and to share bicycling stories. Unlike golf, one has to work at making cycling a social enterprise.

This was such a pleasant ride, that I'll keep my eye out for New Jersey cycling events in the future. (After I finish state #50!)