Diverse Inspiration

If this blog received federal funding, that funding would have long ago been stripped since StillPedaling is proudly a Woke Cycling Blog. We have readers with diverse interests in cycling, yet the hard working staff here aims to be inclusive to all.

Many of you are very casual riders, or may not have been on a bike in years. One such reader was inspired on July 4th to dig out his Made in America (Chicago, Illinois) bike from the back of his garage (lodged behind his Atari game console, his Smith Corona typewriter and his cherished Horace Clarke Yankees jersey):

He did not text me any pictures of this classic being used for its intended purpose, but hey baby steps….

And then there are the more committed cyclists (the “MCCs”) who have been very busy since my last Natchez Trace post. In August, MCC Ian qualified for the Ironman 70.3 World Championships (a 70.3 consists of a 1.2 mile swim, a 56 mile bike ride and a 13.1 mile run) in his age 45-49 category, averaging an outstanding 23+ mph on his bike leg. But cycling on pavement is so passé for other MCCs. In late May, five participated in Unbound, a 100, 200 or 350 mile race on gravel and dirt paths through cow pastures and wheat fields near Emporia, Kansas (“Emporia” translates in the Cheyanne language to “smack in the middle of f’ing nowhere”). Special medical clearance is required for this race — a note from a psychiatrist certifying that you are insane.

The weather is notoriously fickle in Kansas and this year it did not disappoint. Torrential rain turned dirt roads into mud. MCC Dennis reports that he actually only cycled 99 miles of his 100 mile race — he had to carry his bike as he waded through mud the rest of the time. Here is his previously spotless bike when he crossed the finish line:

“Just 100 miles? That’s child’s play” said MCCs Blake, Liz, Nancy and Rod who did the 200 miler. They started at 6:30 am and finished after midnight. In addition to rain, they endured hail, frogs and darkness (but thankfully no pestilence or slaying of first-borns). And Liz narrowly avoided crashing into a big brown object illuminated by her head lamp at mile 185, which turned out to be a cow sitting in the middle of the road. If your dream vacation is to cycle in mud, in pouring rain and in near total darkness so you can have a better view of the lightning landing around you, check out this video by MCC Rod who rode with a camera attached to his handlebars (the whole video is great, but if you are pressed for time the mud starts at about 8 minutes, riding in a lightning storm at 20:40 and a review of the race by a professional cyclist at 22:45).

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_imfIZUFTk0

MCC Blake followed up Unbound by participating in the Sea to Summit Triathlon — a mile+ swim in the Atlantic by Maine, a 100 mile bike ride to Mt. Washington and a run up to the summit of Mt. Washington. Here he is just before the summit (did I mention that the run was on a hiking trail?):

Some of you may be inspired by these exploits: others horrified and think I should find new friends. But I know all of you are inspired by hearing about blog readers who got knocked down by life’s curveballs, but refused to stay down. There’s Art who rode 400+ miles on the Natchez Trace seven months after hip replacement surgery (see 4/24/26 post); my law partner Paul who cycled up Mount Ventoux in France after his own hip replacement surgery; my sister-in-law Ward who put breast cancer in the rear view mirror and has since done the Unbound 200, an equally gruesome race in rural Minnesota and Rebecca’s Private Idaho (google it; too crazy to describe); and my assistant of nearly 30 years Yvonne who, despite serious health issues including two kidney transplants, is the most positive, upbeat person I have ever known.

Which brings me to the real point of this blog — my cycling buddy Rob (see 2/27/24 and 3/2/24 posts). Those of you who are actuaries will agree that Rob long ago exceeded his life expectancy, given his youth spent cycling at Tour de France speeds without a helmet in Manhattan and Queens. Passing up his obvious calling as a bicycle messenger, Rob had a long career as a health and safety engineer (ironic, no?). Unfortunately and very seriously, Rob suffered a stroke two years ago that resulted in a partial loss of use of his left arm and leg.

Rob being Rob, he threw himself into rehab and got back on his bike, starting with some wobbly rides on gentle rail trails. When he told me a few months ago that he wanted to do a big ride to show the possibilities to his rehab group, I volunteered to come along. I was thinking “stroke victim; we’ll do a long rail trail and then have ice cream”. But no, Rob’s idea of a comeback ride was to ascend the Mt. Ascutney toll road, described in this website devoted to major cycling climbs:

Rob and I did a number of big ascents in our youth — for example, Sunwapta Pass in the Canadian Rockies (carrying panniers), the infamous Bopple Hill by Canandaigua Lake which topped out at a 23% grade, and Cape North Mountain on Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia, right after a lunch of beer and lobster rolls — I was hungry and had two. (Note that fueling an ascent on beer and lobster is only recommended for cyclists in their early 20s without a fully formed frontal cortex).

But we’re now senior citizens, which caused me to have all sorts of thoughts before the ride — “Should I make Rob sign a waiver that this was all his idea? Wait, what if I don’t make it? Does my health insurance have an exclusion for ‘stupidity’?” Well we made it, slowly but surely. Here’s Rob approaching the summit (it was too steep to stop and take pictures on the way up), a celebratory pose at the top and the elevation profile of our ride from Rob’s GPS:

Two years ago, Rob’s PT told him that he would not see much improvement after the first few months of rehab. Rob figuratively gave his middle finger to that advice, got back on his bike before he could fully grip the handlebar with his left hand and his rides became progressively less wobbly over the past two years. When we reached the top, the first thing he did was text a picture to his PT to share with his rehab group.

The descent on a steep, narrow and winding road was terrifying. We had to stop multiple times to make sure our brakes weren’t overheating. We then celebrated with the finest pizza we could find in Windsor, Vermont.

The past two days was Rosh Hashanah, a time for reflection and inspiration for personal renewal. May some of the exploits of the amazing readers of this blog inspire you to get back up again if you get knocked down this year. Shana Tova!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iI8zPbEHRl0