So look in next
month's GABA Update for Fall education program announcements. Join in making our
club and regional bicycle riders safer riders, no matter what their level and
age.
- CHERYL & CHUCK'S
FRENCH REPORT -
We last heard from
Cheryl and Chuck Kline, two long standing GABA members, in March 2003 (See the
April Update) as they were leaving Central America on their way to Europe after
having cycled extensively throughout the US, Canada, and Asia. This dispatch
finds them cycling through France.
Day 1:
11:00 AM: It is overcast and we are cycling through back roads and quaint little
French towns with stone buildings hundreds of years old. Everyone has a garden,
irises of all colors are in bloom, and everything is green. The farms are
picture perfect and we have a slight tailwind. This is great. It is the way
cycling is supposed to be. I could cycle and travel forever. Maybe we will camp
under the stars tonight.
3:00 PM: It is raining and I am drenched. I hope there is a hotel in the next
town 12 kilometers ahead.
8:00 PM: There was a hotel and I am dry. It has stopped raining and we have
walked around this village with its stone houses and irises.
Day 2:
It is sunny and there
is a slight tailwind. The towns are quaint with stone buildings hundreds of
years old. The roads are well signed. Everyone has a garden, irises of all
colors are in bloom, and everything is green. This is great. This is so
pleasant. Maybe we will cycle and travel forever. Maybe we will camp under the
stars tonight. We lunch on brie cheese, walnuts, dates, figs, baguette, apples,
oranges, and olives. Jackie should join us. She would like this cycling.
Day 3:
It is sunny and there
is a slight tailwind. The tulips of all colors are also in bloom. There are
churches and chateaus hundreds of years old, but still in use. People smile and
say, bonjour. We smile back and say, bonjour. We cycle many miles and could
cycle many more miles. We find a delightful camp site by a meandering river. It
is perfect and we decide to camp. Paula and Jim should join us. I should
organize and lead a tour. We should travel and cycle forever.
Day 4:
4:00 AM: It just started raining.
5:00 AM: It is raining harder.
6:00 AM: Condensation is forming on the inside of the tent and it is dripping
back on us.
8:00 AM: We are wet inside our tent. If we cannot depend on the weather on a
sunny day, maybe we should not camp at all. Maybe we should leave our tent here
and say goodbye to it. No sense in carrying it. Maybe we should peddle away from
this soggy mess.
10:00 AM: We packed up our soggy tent and cycled in the rain. Maybe we can find
a hotel with a heater in one of these quaint little towns. 4:00 PM: We found a
hotel about 1 PM and now we are warm and dry.
Day 5:
8:00 AM: It is not raining right now; just overcast and a little wet from
yesterday.
9:00 AM: We packed up and cycled out; just a little drizzle.
10:00 AM: It is raining a little harder, but our rain gear is keeping us fairly
dry. We have a slight headwind.
11:00 AM: We are wet; drenched. Maybe there is a hotel ahead in the next town,
15 kilometers away. Maybe we can be there in an hour.
12:00 PM: We are not there; the head wind is stronger. I do not think I should
ask Jackie to bring her bike. I am not going to plan a group tour.
1:00 PM: Hotel #1 is closed until 3 PM for mid-day break. The stores are closed,
too. Hotels #2 and 3 do not have heaters in the room.
2:00 PM: The tourist office is also closed for mid-day break. Hotel #4 is just
right.
4:00 PM: I am warm and dry and writing to and thinking of all of you. Maybe it
will not rain tomorrow. But how could all the flowers bloom and everything be
green if it did not rain? For right now I do not think that I want to cycle in
France forever. We plan to spend the evening walking around the medieval town of
Loches, complete with its own dungeon.
Day 6:
It is sunny today.
Again, I could cycle forever. Today we will cycle on to Blois in the Lorie
Valley. When we get old, if that ever happens, we will cycle only 10 kilometers
a day and visit these quaint villages and medieval cities, castles, and
dungeons, and stay in warm hotel rooms that are hundreds of years old.
Warm thoughts to all
of you,
Cheryl and Chuck
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By Laura Schmidt
of Team Terry
Precision
The four members of
the semi-professional women’s cycling team Terry Precision (based out of
Rochester, NY) commenced their 2003 season with a warm, sunny week of March
spring training and racing in the desert landscape of Tucson, Arizona. Elisa
Gagnon (Chicoutimi, Quebec), Chloe Black (Peterborough, Ontario), Rosie Garlapow
(Buffalo, NY), and Laura Schmidt (Syracuse, NY) happily traded their cold,
wintry northeast residences for a week at the comfortable home of generous
hosts, Steve Wilson and Donna Lewandowski, both active members of the local
cycling club, GABA. During the bike training and racing season across the
nation, racers typically try to find lodging with local host families. This
treat not only conserves expenses, but allows us to get to know wonderful people
all around the country. A cozy home with bike friendly hosts beats an impersonal
hotel room any day!
Since four of us,
plus my husband Erik, needed housing for an entire week, Terry initially assumed
the team would need to find lodging at a reasonable hotel, ideally with kitchen
facilities since training/race weeks are largely consumed with cooking and
eating. J We didn’t expect to find one host house for all 5 of us, for 9 nights,
but Steve and Donna generously offered their space. (I think we now each owe
them our first born, but that’s another story!) This situation is unusual, so
don’t feel we expect this kind of serendipity, but boy was it awesome—for
relaxation, team building, convenience, efficiency, and simplicity. Of course,
the best part was enjoying all this time with Steve, Donna, their 2 dogs and
sharing their interests from flower identification, learning about local metal
smiths to discovering tasty vegetarian recipes. I think we all established a
long-term connection and our hosts are now active members of all of our email
address lists!
The plan for the week
was to try and get in some good, long base miles that we northeasterners were
desperately lacking, having survived one of the coldest, snowiest winters on
record. These Arizona rides were our first opportunity of the year to wear
shorts and we welcomed the thought of actually needing sunscreen and chapstick!
Our training week would conclude with our first race of the year--the three day
Tucson Bicycle Classic. Since we would be racing against a fairly fit group of
western girls who had already been on the road for a few months, our
expectations for the race were simply to survive and use the intensity as good
training for the upcoming season.
The evening we
arrived, we quickly assembled our bikes in order to enjoy a sunset ride up the
road towards Mt. Lemmon, just beyond Steve and Donna’s neighborhood. Later in
the week, a few of us experienced the joy and ease of ascending that road on a
different kind of bike that we considered trading our road bikes in for--Steve’s
Yamaha cruiser sure made that climb quick and easy!
During the week, the
team explored the roads around Saguaro National Monument East, Colossal Cave,
Vail, Arivaca, and Mt. Lemmon. Laura and Erik slipped away for a day to visit
her family in her hometown of Sierra Vista (70 miles southeast of Tucson) and
enjoyed a sunset ride around Bisbee and Tombstone.
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Tucson Bicycle
Classic (Friday-Sunday, March 14-16)
Prologue: McCain Loop
Time Trial in Tucson Mountain Park
This rolling, curving
3 mile scenic route through the Saguaro National Monument West was probably one
of my favorite time trial courses yet, even though the effort really hurt! I had
the unfortunate experience of arriving in Arizona with a cold and spent the week
riding fewer miles and lower intensity than my companions in hopes that I would
gradually recover. This short, intense effort (the first in two weeks) was a
shock to my system. However, I was pleased that I was able to get my heart rate
to the level it needed to be for such a short effort. As expected, I was much
happier about my performance before seeing the results, and was reminded the
purpose of the week is for training, not race success. Don’t let those results
get you down, Syracuse girl. After all, it’s only March and this is a long
season!
Stage 2--Saturday
morning: Gates Pass Road Race—21 mile rolling loop and a 12% climb up Gates Pass
The women’s field
raced this loop three times. The course began at Pima Community College and
wound and curved through Saguaro National Park before the steep ascent up Gates
Pass. The field hung together each lap, until the climb when our tight bunch of
40 blew apart. Luckily for stragglers (like myself!), the extended descent
allowed us to tuck, motor and try to regain contact with the main field. My poor legs hadn’t
been climbing at this intensity for 6 months and weren’t very happy. It took so
much effort to get up and over that pass I was sure my brakes had to be rubbing
or my rear wheel was soft. There’s got to be another reason why I feel SO bad on
this, right? Looking down at my bike didn’t reveal anything out of the ordinary,
so I had to accept the harsh truth that, yes, it was all me—nothing else to
blame it on. Bummer!
Coming into the final
mile of rollers towards the uphill finish, my goal was simply to finish with the
pack so that I wouldn’t lose any time in general classification. Lucky for me,
the pack strung out enough so that I had a wheel to hang onto and finish with
the same time as the leaders. Bike racing is SO different from a running race
that way—20th place can give you the same time as 1st? Sure is nice when
you’re 20th! (Oh, several hours after the race, while taking my bike off
the car, I noticed a flat rear tire. Aha! So my rear wheel was soft during the
race! It’s ok to blame some of my sorry climbing on a slow leak, right?!) Team
Terry and Erik (who raced with the Cat 2 Men) enjoyed the extra special
attention each lap from their local cheering section of Steve, Donna and fellow
motorcycle marshal volunteers.
Well, I’m up to the
part of this report I’ve been avoiding for several months now. I want to address
this detail, but it is so hard. As most of you reading this probably already
know, a tragic crash descending Gate’s Pass in the Men’s Cat 2 road race caused
several serious injuries, including a fatality—a rare occurrence in bike racing
given the number of racers and races in a given season.
I was visiting an old
high school friend after my race, waiting for Erik to call me after his. The
phone rang. It was Erik, but his voice didn’t sound right. I asked him if he was
ok. “Yes.” ‘Did you crash?’ “No. Laura, why don’t you tell me about your race
first?” I was worried. Something sounded really bad. I quickly summarized my
race and asked him to tell me what was going on. Erik was so shaken. Apparently,
he had fallen off the pack on their third time up Gates Pass. He was stopped on
the descent, about 100m from the site of the crash, but near enough to
understand someone had died. His group was turned around to return to the
start/finish in the opposite direction. The Men’s Pro race was also neutralized.
The rest of Saturday
was a blur of shock, horror, and trying to put the pieces together about what
happened and who was involved. Since Steve and Donna were motorcycle marshals
for the race, they knew about the crash before any of us and were very worried
that Erik may have been involved. Had Erik focused on training this winter and
been in form, (rather than completing his dissertation and finding a job), he
would’ve most likely been in the pack where the crash occurred. That was a scary
thought none of us could entertain for long. Erik had descended with that group
of guys every lap until the last one.
Everyone just needed
answers. Steve and Donna called other race volunteers. We repeatedly checked the
race website for updates. How did the crash occur? Who crashed? What were the
injuries? Who died? What will happen with
Sunday’s race?
I was not doing well
and just needed to disappear on my bike. (A bike ride is often my chosen remedy
when I’m upset.) This tragedy struck two painful chords of reality within me.
First, bike racing, the sport I’m most passionate about, is dangerous and can be
fatal. I don’t want to think about that reality or worry my family and friends
about it, but it’s true--rare, but true. Second, life can end in the blink of an
eye. None of us know how long we, or those we love, have on this earth. I was
also overwhelmed with the panic that it could’ve been Erik. Under normal
circumstances, he probably would’ve been up with the pack and could’ve easily
been in the wrong place at the wrong time. The premature death of a young,
vibrant, healthy human being is one of is one of the most difficult things for
me to accept in life. It is probably my biggest fear for myself or for anyone I
know and love. It just isn’t fair. Experiencing this in southern Arizona was
especially hard for me, because these roads bring up very painful memories of
too many childhood friends who died prematurely.
We eventually learned
later Saturday evening that the race promoters and Garrett’s family decided to
proceed with Sunday’s circuit race as planned. Each field’s race would begin
with a moment of silence honoring Garrett and ride the first lap together in his
memory. The race would begin on lap 2. None of us knew what we were going
to do regarding Sunday’s race. We didn’t know if racing would help or hurt our
state of mind. We simply ended up picking a departure time Sunday morning for
anyone who decided they wanted to head to the start.
Stage 3—Artisan
Prosthetics Circuit Race—5.6 mile rolling loop with uphill finish in front of
Pima Community College
Three of us headed to
the race, intending to start with an option of pulling out if it just wasn’t
working. The other two from our group opted to stay home and do a ride on their
own. The mood in the parking lot was somber. My field lined up for our start and
race director, Steve Bohn, addressed the tragedy with eloquence, respect, and
sincerity. I just can’t even imagine how difficult the past 18 hours must’ve
been for him. We then paused for a moment of silence and I couldn’t stop crying.
This situation was so incredibly sad, but I knew I had to push through it, or I
might not be able to race again for a very long time. My field took our neutral
first lap together. No one said a word. I winced every time an oncoming car
passed by. I didn’t want to be anywhere near that painted yellow line on the
road which does nothing to protect a cyclist from a potential fatality. It was
hard to participate and yet I was so grateful that the racers were given the
option to race. As my race progressed, my grief lessened. The best thing I
could’ve done that very sad Sunday morning was to get on my bike and pedal
through my fear of being seriously hurt while riding. Thankfully, my race
finished safely.
Everyone had an
opportunity to write a note to Garrett’s family in a special book. Several
memorial rides have taken place in his honor.
None of us will ever
forget this week in Tucson. It was filled with joy and sadness. But our group
departed Arizona with a deeper appreciation for life, friendship, healthy bodies
and each day we’re privileged to experience. Please be careful when you’re
driving and when you’re biking.
Thank you Steve,
Donna and all the folks that helped out with the Tucson Bicycle Classic. We all
hope this tragedy will not hinder the enthusiasm for cycling in your neck of the
woods. You pulled through this with dignity and honor. I’m sure we’ll be back
soon to enjoy some warmth, unique desert beauty, and maybe a Tour de Eegee’s!
Here’s the TBC
website: http://www.casaschurch.org/tbc/
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Words from Steve
By Steve Wilson
GABA President
Sometimes when
something is in our own back yard we lose sight of how special it is. For some,
Mt. Lemmon highway fits in to that category.
Its year-round
availability and close proximity to town cause us to sometimes forget how
special it really is. If you don’t think it is – try finding another paved road
you can ride 12 months of the year that goes from cactus forest to Ponderosa
Pine and Douglas Fir in 25 miles. (If you find one, let me know). It’s not
unusual on a weekend morning to see 50 to 100 cyclists on a trip up to Seven
Cataracts and back. I’ve had the good fortune of riding the lower sections of
the highway hundreds of times, and I still find it to be a beautiful ride.
Another nice attribute of the road is that if you decide to turn around anywhere
in the first 21 miles you have a free ride back to the base. The lack of overly
steep sections means virtually no braking is required.
When the
reconstruction of the highway was started in the late 80’s the entire road was
narrow, bumpy, and littered with the remains of 30 or so vehicles that had taken
a dive off the side of the road. A huge cargo helicopter was brought in, and,
for a short time at least, there were no cars off the edge of the highway. A new
section of super smooth asphalt had been opened up every other year or so as the
reconstruction has proceeded. Only one more section to go – from Bear Canyon (MP
12) to Lizard Rock (MP 16). The construction on this section is scheduled to
begin later this year.
Many recreational
cyclists are intimidated by the mountain. It’s difficult to convince many
cyclists that the highway isn’t any steeper that what they experience around
town. Once they try it though, just about everyone gets hooked. The combination
of spectacular scenery, aerobic workout, and camaraderie is great. If you go up
on the right weekday in the winter you might just see Lance Armstrong and the US
Postal team going by. Unfortunately, the encounter will be brief. In case you
want to calibrate your performance on the mountain, Lance’s maximum rate of
climb (6,000 ft/hr) translates in to a speed about 20 mph going UP the mountain.
Enjoy of the highway – and take a minute each ride up to remind yourself what a
special treat it is. We’ll look for you on the road.
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