PASSING THE TIME BY COGITATING

Some things have been on my mind lately. My recent metric century ride of a couple of week’s ago and this past Saturday’s 45 mile jaunt have provided some time and opportunity to consider the ways of the world and my place in it. This is, of course, a very broad subject and one I’ll narrow down quite considerably in order to make the retelling of the cogitation more efficient.

(The Thinker – Auguste Rodin) 

When one cogitates whilst spinning merrily along upon a racing saddle, certain things eventually come to the forefront of topics to be considered. I’ve discovered that after 35 or so miles, those things seem as if they want to take center stage and dominate your cogitation. Today, I need not dwell upon that particular topic other than to now begin to cogitate upon how much more central those topics might become on a century ride. I’ll have to make a list so I can check it twice when I set additional goals for this riding season. This one can go under the heading “To chamois cream or not to chamois cream?”

No, I was cogitating more on some of my knowledge acquisition over the past couple of years as it relates to riding. In my home dialect of the Southern Appalachians, I might say that I’d be reviewing my “new larning”. Briefly, here’s what I think I’ve “larned”…

1) The first year back to cycling I was more comfortable spinning along on mostly flat ground. I dreaded hills much less mountains. After all, they hurt! I created significant psychological barriers to climbing and would dread the very thought of going so slow that I’d start falling over and be unable to unclip and certainly would then fall into traffic or over the edge of the mountain. As my speed dropped on the climbs, the dread grew in direct proportion to loss of speed. In my 3rd year, I find myself seeking out things to climb. I feel comfortable on the mountains and couldn’t tell you when I last experienced a fear of falling over that paralyzed me and sent me running back down the mountain.

The first big moment in reducing this irrational fear came when I finally topped Rush Fork, which was my nemesis last year. Once I topped the mountain and realized it was in me to ride it, those fears were significantly diminished on future climbs. A great lesson I learned was from the Wood-man, who taught me to let the mountain come to me. Now, when I feel myself getting those butterflies in my stomach, I settle down and do exactly that – I let the mountain come to me.

2) When times got really tough and I was ready to give up, I would go to my “Lance spot”, which is a comfortable position I found on the bike that was unconsciously inspired by an image I saw of Lance Armstrong climbing in the 2009 Tour de France. Somehow, that image and a certain position I found on the bike with me out of the saddle and pumping hard coalesced in my brain and now gives me power when I need it. I haven’t needed it as much this year as last year. I think I’ve learned to accept a more relaxed manner in which to climb. I’m sure that I’ve also developed some climbing muscles that I didn’t have in my first 2 years of riding again.

3) A great, great lesson that I’ve learned comes from Kent “Mountain Turtle” Peterson and his slogan of “hasten slowly!”. Accepting that I have to go at my own pace and give up competing with the 25 year old riders in speed, has increased my ability to stay on the bike and to be more relaxed. If I’m achieving my own goal, whatever that might be, I don’t need to be overly concerned with what others are doing or not doing. So, thanks to the Mountain Turtle, I’m becoming better at hastening slowly. I still have to work on this one though because I am a competitive person. Truth be told, I let myself get away from the satisfaction of having met my recent goal of completing a metric century and got caught up in my order of finish resulting in less overall satisfaction. I temporarily lost sight of that fact that it was a ride and not a race.

4) If you can walk it – you can climb it! This has become my newest mantra and reduces my need to go to the “Lance spot” and I find it quite compatible with “hastening slowly”. This also complements the Wood-man’s lesson of letting the mountain come to me. No longer feeling the mental anguish of fear of falling over, I find that I can almost literally walk it up the mountain. I figure that my legs have to be doing somewhat similar actions on the bike as when I’m walking so that leads to “if you can walk it, you can climb it!” Granted, I haven’t tried this yet on anything above 12% grade but, so far, it works for me. I’ve cogitated upon the comments of the couple alongside the road Saturday as I was nearing the peak of the Blue Ridge Parkway. In my mind, I was concentrating solely on what was in front of me, spinning the crank one loop at a time seeing only what was in front of me, while these folks were viewing the effort in its fullest context of having climbed the whole mountain and were even kind enough to provide some positive comments as we made our way to the top. I recalled, in my cogitation, the times that I, as a motorcyclist, would ride by a bicyclist climbing the Blue Ridge Parkway or other road, and think “whew, those guys/gals are nuts!” Now, I embrace my “nuttiness” as I am one of “them”.

So, I find myself amused/happy/fulfilled somewhat that in my 3rd year of cycling at the ripe old age of 57 years, 8 months, and 1 day I’m finding joy in climbing things, i.e., mountains and such. How long will this last? Probably until I fall over somewhere along the line…

Until later,

- Zeke

THE MOUNTAIN WON TODAY…

 

*credit below…

 

Well, I don’t know that yesterday was lazy or hazy but it certainly was crazy. It was just one of THOSE days. I don’t know if it was the result of  poor sleep the night before or maybe the after effects of a crappy “Monday on Tuesday” work day. Maybe it was simply Karma rebalancing my universe from lunch when I had an enjoyable chat with a reporter from our local paper. I was extolling the virtues of cycling and what a great area we have here in Haywood County for experiencing the beauty of the area from 2 wheels be they motorized (as in motorcycle NOT as the accusations leveled toward Fabian Cancellera this season) or self-powered. Whatever it was, yesterday was one of the hardest days of riding I’ve had in a long time…

I seemed to start out o.k. although the heat of the day surprised me when I left my office at 5:00 p.m. It was still 93 degrees according to my thermometer. That is, of course, strength sapping heat. I decided, foolishly it turns out, that I would add a loop over Hyder Mountain Road to my normal commute home. Hyder Mountain is a serious climb that has an average gradient of 7.42% over .85 miles but turns up to 11 or 12 percent for the last 60 yards or so. This climb is part of the upcoming inaugural Blue Ridge Breakaway and I wanted to test my general fitness over this part of the course.

I had a good start to the day even though it was hot. I seemed to be climbing well going up the initial portions of Hyder Mountain but ran out of pretty much cardio and leg output as I was headed toward the final climb portion that tops out at Fincher’s Chapel. I tried to push through it but even going to my “Lance spot” didn’t help on this day. My heart rate had climbed to 182, I was dizzy, and seeing black spots so I called it quits. Knowing that I was riding solo, I didn’t want to get myself into a heatstroke situation or worse.

As I was cooling down and letting my heart rate drop back to normal, I greeted a cyclist, who was making the climb quite nicely. He had a nice steady cadence going and was out of his seat as he crossed through the gap and out of sight. I briefly considered another go at the mountain but ultimately decided to leave it for another day. I gave a nod of respect to the mountain and descended back to my normal route home along the Pigeon.

It was along the section from Hyder Mountain Road to Clyde, NC that I realized how much was taken out of me on the mountain. I felt I was pushing too high of a gear on my way to Clyde because my legs were just drained. I went to shift down from my big  ring to my middle ring only to discover that I was already on my middle ring. It was really a struggle to get home from this point and I had about 15 miles to go.

(Struggling on a crazy summer day…)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Farm land along Thickety Rd.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(A couple of my regular greeters along the way!)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Some gorgeous horses call Thickety Rd. home)

As I proceeded along Thickety, I passed one gentleman watering his lawn. I briefly considered asking if I could ride through his yard to cool down. I thought I was beginning to recover somewhat at this point but still had two climbs to go before making my turn south toward home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(A cool descent under shade… finally!)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Ascending to the church on the first of two climbs)

It was an uneventful run in from the intersection of Thickety Rd. and Champion Dr. for the final 8 miles to Bethel. I was very pleased to see the Navigator waiting on me at Bethel Grocery for the ride up the mountain to our home. It was an evening of cramping legs and feet at home as we watched the carnage of Stage 3 of the Le Tour on Versus’s recap of the day. I’m glad this day and ride is behind me. Even though it was somewhat painful on the day, I wouldn’t trade it away. I’m already looking forward to my next ride up Hyder Mountain!

Until later,

- Zeke

 

* Lyrics credit:

Lyrics – Bradtke, H; Carste, H; Tobias, C
Song – Those Lazy, Crazy, Hazy Days of Summer
Performer – Nat King Cole

A “GUARD DOG” OF A DIFFERENT FEATHER!

 

Kent Peterson of Kent’s Bike Blog was out riding with some friends in the Great Northwest the other day when they came upon a guard dog of a different sort. Or maybe, this “dog of a different feather” just found Kent irresistibly cute! To see this fellow (the bird – not Kent) in his finest “colors”, simply click on the image. Kent is also in one of them so YOU BE THE JUDGE! Enamored or threatened???

 

Get back, Jack! (images courtesy of Kent’s Bike Blog)

 

Speaking of “other fronts”, well, actually I wasn’t so just consider this a segue to something else of interest. The Springfield Cyclist is enjoying some time on the Outer Banks of N.C. with his “best half” and their tandem. He has been posting a few images along as he enjoys some time off. Unfortunately, the weather may not have cooperated the best over the last 24 hours. Maybe he should have stopped here in gorgeous Western North Carolina where we are currently under sunny skies and warm temperatures.

Nags Head, NC under wet conditions! (images courtesy of The Springfield Cyclist)

 

As for me….

I’ve had a couple of days off now from riding with Jim Artis of Cycling Experiences fame this past weekend. When our BicycleHaywoodNC Advisory Council meeting was cancelled last night at the last moment, I initially thought I might get a ride squeezed in. But, chores and loose ends came calling so I didn’t get to  ride. I did manage to pick up a wheel for my trainer that I hope NOT TO USE until late, late next winter! My LBS (Rolls Rite Bicycles) has been holding on to the wheel for me since March. I also stopped by my local Radio Shack to gather some needed wires, couplers, and a connector to attach to my 750 watt Vectra Inverter for our upcoming trip. My hope is to power my laptop and other “necessary” electronics from the inverter as we travel down the road pulling our camper.

While at The Shack, I noticed copies of Lance Armstrong’s “Comeback 2.0” book for sale. I made an impulsive buy and purchased a copy. I felt good with about the buy knowing that $10.00 of the purchase price goes to the Lance Armstrong Foundation.

I enjoyed reading the text and checking out the images last night before going to sleep. It was interesting to me to see into the background of Lance’s comeback and the eventual 2009 Tour du France. (Note: I receive no remuneration from Lance Armstrong nor anyone associated with Lance Armstrong  in regard to mentioning his book. In fact, I don’t think Lance Armstrong has a clue who I am even thought I’ve written numerous times about finding my Lance Spot!)

I hear the grass growing so it is time to go mount the mighty Lawn Tractor in hopes of getting my chores done today so I CAN RIDE TOMORROW!

Until later,

- Zeke

MEMORIES OF THE BABE!

 

This past Tuesday, March 30th, was a magnificent day in the mountains of Western North Carolina. It was truly a great spring day. Temperatures started off cool in the morning but quickly warmed. By time for my daily walk from my office to the Smoky Mountain Cafe for lunch, a jacket was not needed and sunglasses were highly recommended. I think that I recall that the cafe had their door propped open for the first time this season.

By the end of the workday, we were pushing the mid-70’s and it was a day calling out for a ride. Upon arriving home, I quickly ditched computers and clothes and dressed for a late day ride. It seems that I stay pretty close to home this time of year and tend to ride a loop through the Pigeon River Valley. Tuesday was no different.

I start my loop at the Bethel Middle School and head down river toward Canton, NC. I noted pretty quickly that there were lots of people out and about walking the track at the school. There also seemed to be lots of traffic as some sort of event was just ending at the school. Throw in the end of workday traffic and good old NC 215 was busier than usual. The good news was that, without exception, all of the drivers were courteous and gave me plenty of room as they passed. I tried to be a helpful “traffic director” and would let them know what lay around the curves and whether they could safely proceed around me. It may have been my imagination but there seemed to be more pleasant hand waving as they passed me on this particular day.

The 5 mile run down to Canton was simply pleasant. As I approached Canton, I passed the local baseball field for Pisgah High School. The parking lots were full as a game was in progress. Rounding the next curve and crossing over the Pigeon River brings you into Canton’s Recreation Park area and it too was teeming with lots of activities. Many people of all ages were out and walking the trail, playing basketball, swinging, and just apparently hanging out.

A right hand turn took me by Pisgah’s softball field and yet another group of parents and friends watching the girls’ game in progress. In Memorial Stadium, there was yet another event of some sort. I imagine it was a soccer match. I mention this because seeing all of these young and old people alike out exercising and being involved in physical activities turned out to be an interesting contrast to a conversation that I would have on Thursday evening. (See “Of Note:” below)

My ride continued on my usual route up NC 110 to the intersection of US 276. The 5 mile run back up the river was typical of this section of road. There is usually more traffic here but the gutters are wide enough so you can ride pretty comfortably out of the flow of traffic. Winter debris is still abundant on the sides of the road resulting in times of quick dodges back into the main roadway but, still, a pleasant safe ride is the norm.

I wanted to extend my riding time so rather than turning northwest on US 276 and toward my home, I crossed over US 276 and began climbing Love Joy Road. The initial section of this road includes a relatively gentle climb above the river. At the top of the climb is a pull-off nice enough to unclip and grab a quick bite of power bar and some fluids. I also took the opportunity to grab some images.

(My Fuji CCR3. The grass still has its winter colors.)

 

(Looking south on Love Joy Road.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Look closely and you can catch a glimpse of the Pigeon River running through farmland just below Love Joy Road)

Love Joy runs about 3 miles in length and is a quiet 2 lane road traversed largely by local home owners and farmers. The Pigeon River Valley is a very productive agricultural area and is the focus of local conservation efforts to maintain it as small family farms rather than turning it over to yet more housing developments and mobile home parks.

(Looking northwest across the Pigeon River Valley)

Ratcliffe Mountain can be seen in the distance of this image and, if you can note the shaded cove in the middle of the image, you can see the “holler” where my “best half” and I live. The sun “sets” at our house around 4:00 p.m. this time of year. I’m often fooled into thinking it is later in the day than it really is because of shade and shadows involved in living on the north slope. Fortunately, it also helps us stay cooler in the summer!

I reached the southern end of Love Joy Road where it intersects with NC 215. Normally, I would turn back north and return to my starting point. On Tuesday, I felt pretty good and had ridden the only semi-serious climb on Love Joy without problem. I decided that, given continuing daylight, I would turn south on NC 215 and ride toward Lake Logan. The road here has no shoulders and you are running along the west fork of the Pigeon with some 10’ to 15’ drops into the river if you don’t pay attention or, God forbid, you get pushed off the road by a passing motorist. As I began the initial mile of this section, the sun was no longer to be seen as the mountain range was blocking it and I began to have thoughts of turning back. Fortunately, my indecision simply led to a return to sunlight just a couple of curves further south. In short order, I passed the Lake Logan Volunteer Fire Department and received a warm greeting from the local volunteers and then quickly passed by the turn off to the Daniel Boone Boy Scout camp, site of many wonderful memories from my days as a youth in scouting.

I intended to turn around here and head home but I was still feeling good and enjoying the day. Just past the Daniel Boone turnoff begins a climb of some more significant length and grade. While my ride this day would average a 2% grade, the climb to the peak above Lake Logan is a grade of 10% and has certainly increased my heart rate in the past. Having not done many climbs this season, I was curious to see if I would make it to the top so onward I went. I was somewhat pleasantly surprised to get to the top without having to find my “Lance Spot”.

By this point, the sun had dropped in the sky and I knew I needed to boogey on back home as I really didn’t want to be on this 2 lane stretch of highway in the dark. Just prior to beginning the descent, I noted a solitary hawk framed by the deep blue sky as it rode the day ending thermals high above me. It was then that I noticed the peace and quiet that surrounded me and became more aware of the emerging beauty of spring.

(Oliver “Babe” Yount) 

Memories of my Dad came back to me as I negotiated the run down the mountain and toward home. I realized that it was 15 years ago to the day that he had died following a year’s battle with metastatic colorectal cancer. Some days, it seems like only yesterday that he was helping me build fence around our home and other days it seems like an eternity since I’ve heard his voice or saw his big smile after telling a good joke.

Oliver “Babe” Yount, along with our mother, was as strong a supporter of children as anyone who has ever lived. His dedication to the 3 of us (Bro Dave, me, and our sister Cindy) knew no bounds. If he wasn’t our actual coach in Little League, he was in the stands offering encouragement and support. It didn’t matter whether it was youth sports, our time in high school athletics or my brother’s years at Appalachian State University as a football player. The Babe was there. His support extended to our friends as well. I have great memories of Babe coaching us and even of watching him in the stands enjoying my brother’s many exploits on the field, court, and diamond.

On this day, as on many days, my heart was filled with gratitude for the lessons our parents taught us about being active and athletic and enjoying the pursuit of physical activities. I know beyond any doubt whatsoever, that even though I’m on the downhill side of my own time on this planet, Babe would still be there interested in my riding and supporting me all the way…

Of note: Last night I had the opportunity to dine with Claudia Nix, our local N.C.Transportation Committee member and co-owner of Liberty Bicycles in Asheville, NC. Claudia is just back from the Bike Summit in D.C. and shared some of her experiences at that event. She clearly is enthused with the energy and directions the Secretary of Transportation laid out. She also talked about how this current generation of children is forecast to live shorter lives than my generation due to inactivity, too much TV/video games, lack of training in how to be physical, and the onslaught of diseases in children previously reserved for adults. Hypertension and Type II  Diabetes are becoming common place in children!

We were joined by Heather Strassberger, a regional planner, for the Land-of-Sky Regional Council. Heather works with the French Broad Metropolitan Planning Organization and has great interest in bike/ped improvements. She had an interesting point of view when she informed us that she didn’t like referring to bicycles as alternative methods of transportation. She said that walking is the ONLY natural form of transportation and that every other method of movement including cars and truck is really alternative modes of transportation. We had an interesting conversation about Complete Streets and N.C.’s alleged movements in this direction. It was a pleasant evening and I will hopefully be able to bring some of their energy back to our local bicycle awareness council, BicycleHaywoodNC.

The sun has crept over the mountain now and our home is flooded with sunlight as this Good Friday starts. The day is young and full of hope. May your weekend be filled with love and joy!

Until later,

- Zeke

THE MOUNTAIN TOOK PITY…

As I put finger to keyboard on the “day after”, I’m trying to sort out my emotions on having finally topped Rush Fork. I’ve written about this journey of mine previously. (See March post #1 and March post #2) Yesterday was shaping up to be a solo ride as my usual cohorts all had other work duties to address. I had heard from everyone except the “Wood-man” and I know that he likes to ride earlier in the day so I was plotting out a solo journey for my Tuesday night ride.

My phone rang and I was happy to see the “Wood-man” calling. He asked if anyone was riding with me and I informed him “no”. He quickly stated, “well, it’s a good day to get up Rush Fork.” Not wanting to wimp out and knowing that this has been my nemesis this summer, I quickly and without thought said “Sure. Let’s do it!” We made arrangements to meet post work and make the ride.

The climb to Rush Fork begins about 13 miles from my office. This distance used to do me in all by itself but I’m pleased to be able to say, “hey, my legs are getting warm now.” We had an easy ride under cloudy skies as we left Lake Junaluska and headed north on US 209. The workday traffic was relatively heavy as we rode the gutter past the Truck Stop and the overpass for I-40. One fellow must have saved a full 10 seconds as he rocketed around us in his diesel truck only to turn left less than a quarter mile in front of us.

I was riding easy on “Wood-man’s” rear wheel and we were carrying on a nice conversation as the miles passed under our wheels. We finally came around the last curve and topped a short roller just past the G.C. Palmer Dairy Farm, home of the infamous Da Girlz in my prior post. I became aware of the first feelings of edginess as I viewed the beginning of the climb.

There are actually two climbs to topping Rush Fork. The first is long and straight and lays it all out there for you to see. There are no curves to let your mind begin to think “oh, there will be a nice little level grade just around this corner.” Nope, it’s just one straight forward climb and one that I’ve only topped once before yesterday. My goal was to get to the top of it and catch my breath. Little did I know…

I was mostly confident that I’d make this part of the climb and sure enough we spun our way up getting passed by the occasional vehicle along the way. I was within about 25 yards when I announced to “Wood-man” that I needed to stop and catch my breath at the top. To this he simply and quietly announced “No you don’t…” He provided me some coaching tips on resting as we descended a short drop to the beginning of the second climb on Rush Fork.

This starts with a left hand turn and an immediate jump in grade to about 8% or 9%. There is no buffer on the right hand side of the road and the roadbed is right on the drop off. Only the guard rail and its sharp edges are there to hopefully throw you back into the lane of travel if you wobble off course.  I was on “Wood-man’s” wheel and trying to following his advice of taking my time and letting the climb come to me. I was also thinking of my “Lance Spot” and when I was going to have to go to that mystical place in my head. (See previous post for a description of  the “Lance Spot.” )

I was aware that I was doing O.K. and surviving the initial stages of the climb. I didn’t want to look up because that would have made me aware of how much further there was to go. About a third of the way into the climb, I began losing “Wood-man’s” wheel and distance was growing between us. Workers heading home would come around the first curve fast and then slow down when they saw the two of us climbing the mountain. My legs were beginning to burn as I alternated between getting out of the saddle to try and mash my way up and sitting in the saddle trying to find another position to spin my way up. I was still holding my own with the “Wood-man” not losing too much distance but definitely not on his wheel anymore. I began to measure progress by telephone poles. My goal became to get to the next one.

Two thirds of the way up, my legs were burning but, more importantly, I was beginning to run out of oxygen. My heart was trying to pound its way out of my chest and I was getting dizzy. It was time to go my “Lance spot”. As much as the climb was a matter of physically maintaining my balance and keeping the wheels turning, it was also about overcoming the anxiety creeping into my mind. I began to mark spots where I “might” be able to get out of the clips before I fell over on the guardrail or into the road. I caught myself though and refocused on the climb and tried to bring fresh effort to getting oxygen into my system.

I was only two phone poles away from the crest when I looked up. The “Wood-man” had not only maintained his steady climb and increased the distance between us but, I quickly realized, he was SPRINTING for the top. He was going all out as he crested the mountain and cruised through the gap. I couldn’t believe it!

I was within one telephone pole of the top and I was damned if I wasn’t going to make it now. I couldn’t sprint but, like the turtle, I could keep a relatively slow steady pace and I knew I’d get there. It turns out Rush Fork had one more cruel joke left to throw at me.

As I was beginning to congratulate myself that I was going to actually crest the mountain, “she” threw a full fledged head wind in my face. I was still under the lip of the crest when the wind came howling at me as if to blow me back down the narrow strip of road. I feared I would lose all my momentum this close to the top. I could still see the “Wood-man” as he was turning around and beginning his descent of the mountain. I dug down a little deeper and the winds died down enough for me to pedal into the gap amid fluttering autumn leaves under a dark heavy sky. I had made it. Rush Fork was mine…

Still, today I’m not so sure she was mine. I’m sure I didn’t tame her. I can’t say that I conquered her because I really don’t feel the “thrill of victory”. I think somewhat more accurately, she appreciated my effort and rewarded me with a moment or two of mutual respect. I know that my fear of her has been replaced with more respect for having reached her summit.

Oh yeah, “Wood-man” says for our next trip we’re gonna climb her again, drop down to the other side, and climb her in reverse. Boy, I hope my “Lance Spot” has a never ending supply of power…

Until later,

- Zeke

THOUGHTS OF RIDING ON A RAINY DAY

Wet weather has returned to Western North Carolina and it looks like it will be with us for several more days. My riding time has been limited since last Thursday due to duties associated with a special HonorAir Flight this past Saturday.

I was privileged to accompany another 95 World War II Veterans to Washington DC so that they might visit their Memorial along with other important memorials to our country’s Veterans. Friday was filled with getting ready for the trip as there were numerous duties to arrange and coordinate. These took priority over riding.

 

On Saturday, we were up and meeting our Vets at 5:45 a.m. in order to be at Asheville Regional Airport by 6:30 a.m. The morning fog was thick as soup and visibility was measured in feet rather than miles. As I was going to meet our group, an earlier starting group called back and warned me that the interstate was blocked due to a 5 car pileup at a bridge. The calling group of Rotarians and Vets were about 20 seconds behind the accident when it happened and were fortunate to get stopped in time. Unfortunately, they were now stuck behind a mass of mangled cars and had no way around the bridge to continue their trip to the airport.

We had arranged police escort for our group and, with the other group’s kind warning, were able to skirt around the accident and arrive with 2 minutes to spare. It took some wreckers, police and mayoral intervention, but we finally managed to extricate the stranded group of Vets in time for them to make their flight. We arrived in D.C. on a beautiful sunny Saturday morning. (The details of this and other HonorAir flights are too detailed to cover here but, for those interested, you may find out additional information by clicking HERE! You may also see a short video of our trip by clicking HERE!)

From a cycling perspective, I was able to note the considerable biking infrastructure built into Washington. On this day, cyclists, joggers, and pedestrians were out in mass taking advantage of the early fall/late summer weather. If the sections of D.C. and Virginia that I observed on Saturday are reflective of other sections in the city, D.C. must be filled with some very fit individuals!

I am always ready to spend the day with the guys and gals of WWII. Once they start talking (and they don’t often, which is a hallmark of the WWII Vet), I really develop a deeper appreciation for their sacrifices some 50+ years ago. To see citizens come up and shake the hands of these folks and say “thank you!” is remarkable and awe inspiring. They also bring history to life for me. On this trip, I met a Vet, who played sports with my namesake before he was killed on Saipan. We were privileged to share the memory of a Veteran, who was on Iwo Jima when the flag was raised. It is truly an emotional journey each time I’m allowed to join these folks…

The Lance Spot…

O.K., I’ll go ahead and admit this is corny for a 56 year old man to be saying but I’m gonna say it anyway! Over this summer, I’ve developed a certain position on my bike and, more importantly, a state of mind when I’m climbing and beginning to wear out. I call it my Lance Spot.

For some reason, a particular image of Lance Armstrong out of the saddle and sweating like the dickens has fully imprinted itself in my mind. I don’t know which particular image it is or where I first saw it. I do know that one day, while I was struggling with a climb, that image came to me between gasping breaths and I realized that my current position on my bike reminded me of the Lance image. I focused on my position – where my hands were, how my body was aligned over the top tube and pedals – and came to appreciate that I was climbing stronger and without as much energy. Through the summer, I’ve come to recognize when I need to find my Lance Spot on climbs and have made more progress in my abilities to climb. Now, this isn’t the end all, be all of climbing for me as I still wear out and feel my legs turn to noodles. Still, I’ve made it over more summits this year than last and my confidence level has improved drastically.

 

When a warrior (cyclist) learns to stop the internal dialogue, everything becomes possible; the most far-fetched schemes become attainable. Carlos Castaneda Quote

 

I still fight some mental demons when I realize that I’m approaching a loss of momentum and the edges of panic begin to appear in my mind when I fear that I may have to get my feet out of the clips. With apologies to Carlos Casteneda, I’m still learning to stop my internal dialog. I still fall over occasionally when my right foot won’t release and my weight is going in the wrong direction. Thus far, these events have all been at very low speeds so I really do just fall over with minimum negative outcome other than embarrassment. Finding my Lance Spot has given me the confidence to help fight those “falling over demons” of mine.

Remember that you heard it hear first from a middle aged man – may you find YOUR Lance Spot!

 

Until later,

- Zeke