Takes Two to Tandem

July has been a full and exhilarating month. So much has happened, adventure-wise, that it’s hard to know how to get it all on paper (figuratively speaking, of course). So rather than try to cover it all, over the next few weeks I will try to share little adventure vignettes. Maybe I should call them adventurettes? Or possibly vignettures…?

Anyhow, the way I see it, adventures are made up of a lot of little decisions and discoveries as well as climbs and vistas in a wide variety of locations and time frames and levels of importance. So I’ll start with an adventure that will now encompass all future adventures… A little thing called marriage.

June 29th seemed like a great day for a ride. My old biking buddy Paul rode next to me up the hill in Hyde Park, UT past tall cottonwoods and grass fields and picnickers. The picnickers were looking at us funny like there was something wrong with us. Could it be they recognized me as that Huffyman dude and were just waiting for me to hit a tree branch and go flying? Or was it that we weren't wearing helmets? Ya, it was the helmets!

It certainly wasn't the fact that we were both wearing full formal suits…

As we reached the top of the hill overlooking a beautifully decorated pavilion in Lion’s Park, inspirational music drifted up and beckoned to us from below. This was our cue and we 2 old guys started our descent down the rocky and weedy hill to the small, well-dressed group below. This ride into my own wedding had been a closely guarded secret and there were many surprised guests.

“What’s that idiot think he’s doing?! Bobbi – it’s not too late to change your mind!”

“That’s Huffyman! He’s gonna biff it for sure! Quick Marge, get this on video!”

It was fitting that the short ride was with Paul, who had been with me on my very first mountain bike ride 16 years earlier. During those first few rides so many years in the past, we ran into a lone rider who had just moved into the area and was looking for friends. This lone rider, Greg, was now waiting next to Bobbi in front of the gathered friends and family members where he would soon perform a beautiful wedding ceremony. Paul and I rode down the hill gloriously (my own description, not anyone else’s) and parked our bikes proudly (after I got my suit pant untangled from the chain) and took our places. My place was beside to the soon-to-be Huffygirl…

Words were shared, beautiful words. Words that celebrated each of us to the other and also united us in matrimony. And I finally got to kiss the bride!! These events were followed by greetings, congratulations, pictures, and then it was time to head off to start our new life together. And what would be more appropriate than heading off into the sunset (as much as there was at 1:30 in the afternoon) together on a tandem bike with a “Just Married” sign hanging from the rear reflector amidst a cloud of bubbles blown by all present!

In on a single and out on a 2-seater. I can’t think of a better way to start this grand adventure… 

41.95 miles...

Saturday, August 27^th was a day for pushing limits. The bike was rolling fine and the legs were firing on all cylinders and I was feeling good in spite of the pain of the physical effort…  

“I think we just passed the start line, Huffyman.”

This was gonna be a long day…

Mile 1: Riding along nicely. Almost missed one of the first turns. My friend Cindy had driven up to Richmond from the big city down south to join me in the Cache Valley Century  Bicycle Tour and we started a little late, after most others had already headed down the road and there was no arrow painted on the road at the 3^rd turn. We had to rely on wit and keen observation to figure out the correct path. The 4 brightly colored guys standing by their bikes pointing down the road and yelling, “This way!  The course is this way!” were not in any way influential in our decision to go “that way.”

Mile 9.97: The first part of the ride had been through the gentle hills along the east side of Cache Valley between Richmond UT and Franklin ID. I was thinking this was pretty easy riding when we saw the first rest site. Since this was a bicycle tour and not a race, there was no rush with the food and the offerings were very good. I filled up my water and stomach and headed back down the road. The weather was perfect and butterflies were dancing across the fields on the side of the road. This was gonna be cake.

Mile 17: My back hurts. My butt hurts. The most I have ever ridden is 21 miles, but that was powered by donuts so this was completely different. I lost one of my riding gloves a while back so was using a pair of mechanic’s gloves. They kept my hands very warm in the warm sun (totally necessary) and provided a direct handlebar to road sensitivity (no cushion). My hands were going numb every few minutes and I was shifting hand positions constantly. But no complaining from me. I am tough. I can do hard things. Oh, and a bead of sweat got in my right eye and it was stinging…

Mile 20.2: Cute little 3 year old waving from her yard. I waved back. “Mommy, that man wides like I do!”

Mile 21: The 2^nd rest stop was 1 mile past the halfway point of the race. I wanted the rest stop at mile 20 but had to find the strength to go another mile past where I was mentally prepared to go! I was so happy to get off the bike and get a refill of Gatorade and stand up straight. I ate enough at the first rest stop that I felt it wise to skip the food at this one. But those Great Harvest Blueberry Dream Yummy bars (my name for it after tasting one) was calling my name… The second one wasn’t calling my name but it still looked inviting. The 3^rd looked at me funny so I ate it out of spite and self-preservation. Stiffness in the knees happened quickly so back on the bike and down the road we went.

Mile 32: Couldn’t go any further. A rest site was supposed to be around here and all I could see in front of us was that grove of palm trees and the beautiful lake… I shook my head and the view became grain silos and lots of asphalt in front of me. I had to stop to straighten my back and get a drink of Gatorade. This was a long ride. I only just realized it.

Mile 32.4: The last rest area before the finish. Glorious! The plentiful shade and grass were so inviting and I wanted to lie down and enjoy, but I worried that if I did, I would not be able to get back up again. So I filled my water bottle and had a bunch of orange slices. It was apparent that the last rest stop volunteers had radioed ahead and these guys had hidden the Blueberry Dream Yummy bars. Dang. Thinking about the lunch waiting at the end, I made my peace with the rest stop volunteers and Cindy and I headed out into the last, sunny, hot, overwhelming, sadistic and long final stretch.

Mile 37: About 5 miles out and I had to stop again. I sounded like Captain Kirk – “Must…stop…and rest. Must prepare…for…victorious…finish.” Cindy laughed, as did the lady riding the old bike with the fenders as she passed by, as well as the 2 older women who went by on their fancy shmancy roadie bikes, yapping (in between laughing at me) about what Susan the sister in law said after her boss said this and so on… The women were mocking me with their indifference to my pain.

Mile 39: I passed the 2 yapping ladies. I tried to laugh at them in spiteful victory but I could only get out a parched bark. They never slowed their conversation as if to show how little I mattered in their lives.

Mile 40.5: Passed fender lady. Barely.

Mile 41.3: Crossed the tracks and hit the hill up to the highway in Richmond. Up off my seat and hard on the pedals, I rode that hill with all the energy I had left. Less than a half mile left and I felt like I might make it before I completely fell apart. The hill was a killer and at the top I had to sit back down and shift into low gear for the next 200 yards to the highway stop light. It was the best I could muster. The light turned red just as I got to it. My knees stiffened as I waited. Cindy and another rider got to the light smiling. I glared at them hoping they would stop. Just as I reached the official stiffening point of my knees, thighs and back, the light turned green. Push, push, push… My mind willed my legs to go and slowly but steadily, progress was made across the street and toward the finish.

Mile 41.95: The finish line. A colorful line across the road and the single word, “Finish” painted before it. Such a quiet ending to the intensely personal and physical drama that had unfolded throughout the morning. But the pain became bearable as I kept repeating in my mind, “I did it. I did it…” I started out thinking this ride would be easy. Then I worried that I might not make it. And in the end, I pushed through and finished in quiet flair. It was indeed a great day.

Boy, did the lunch they had waiting for us taste good!

Donut Day

The alarm clock went off earlier than my mind was ready for on Saturday morning, but this was the day of the Tour De Donut in American Fork UT and I wanted to get there by 8 am to register and meet my teammates. After loading 3 groggy offspring into the car and about 2 hours of driving, I pulled into the parking lot where bright outfits and smiles were everywhere. I was able to pick up my registration easily and then re-assembled my cramped bike. Ol’ Hoo Koo E Koo had been shoved in the trunk of the little Civic and once I got the wheels back on, it was raring to go. This was my first bike race of any kind, but I had been attracted to this one for its uniqueness. Three 7 mile laps and in between the laps, you ate as many donuts as you could with each donut subtracting 3 minutes from your total time. I’m not a fan of glazed donuts, but any event sponsored by FatCyclist.com was calling my name!! And at this point in my life, I don’t ignore ANY calls!

I met up with my 4 teammates, Cindy, Tiffany, Rob and Al. Everyone was in great spirits and Tiffany handed out our team shirts – powder blue with the words, “Holier Than Thou” on the back. Anyone who knows Huffyman can see the obvious discrepancy, but the team accepted me as I was and I was grateful! There were riders of every age and some in costume. I saw several capes, teams had matching shirts, and there was a couple on a tandem bike dressed as a bloody bride and groom. My favorite team was the Reno 911! folks – they looked great!

Before the race, there was a short, quiet and slow memorial ride in honor of Brynn Barton, a 24-year-old cyclist who was killed in a hit-and-run accident in Salt Lake City on June 7th. Balloons in her favorite colors were released during the memorial ride. It was a sobering and tasteful tribute.

Finally, it was time to line up at the start and then we were off. We rode as a team, beaming in solidarity of purpose and camaraderie… until Al left the rest of us in a cloud of dust about 50 feet past the start line. The course was flat and the potholes were well marked (giving me something to aim at), as were all the turns which also had volunteers at each one, pointing the way and cheering us on. The competition was pretty intense for a while… I kept battling one rider, back and forth we went, jostling for position, until he yelled at the rider in front of us, “Mom, that fat cyclist keeps getting in my waaaayy!” The mom hissed at me and they both sped up out of sight. I enjoyed the scenery as my legs burned – I had forgotten to bring the sunscreen. Riding a flat course was heaven as I train on a canyon road near my home, so I was only used to uphill and downhill. It was a beautiful day on some terrific roads and lots of mostly smiling and happy people. Then I finished the 1st 7 mile loop and found the tables of donuts…

I had never seen this many donuts in one place before! Not even when I got the free hot donuts at Krispy Kreme!! (Where we stopped only to satisfy my KIDS demands, of course) I reached for a donut and started eating it. I asked for a napkin and no one seemed to hear me. Then I saw ways of eating donuts that I had never seen before. Wow!! One of the favorites was to take 2 donuts and squish them together and pour water on them. After I ate my first in the traditional manner, I did the squishing thing and sipped water to wash them down.

My goal was 4 donuts at each stop and once I downed the 4, I washed my hands with handi wipes and got back on the road. 4 donuts did a pretty good job of making me feel full and I felt it as I rode. After a mile or so, there was a loud burp from one of the riders near me. I don’t know who it was (no one would fess up) but I know that I felt a LOT more comfortable!

There were great things to see during the race. An unlucky rider getting a flat tire but another rider stopping to help get the repair done. Lots of parents with kids riding alongside. The call of “You’re doing great!!” from the volunteer at the corner right after the first road under the freeway. I looked around just to be sure, but there was no one in the immediate vicinity. Cool! I saw an entire family riding together – mom, dad and 3 kids. Dad pulled a trailer with a small future cyclist and both parents were obviously cyclists who were taking an opportunity to forgo competition and get their kids involved. Lots of good feelings everywhere along the route. The calls of, “Get outta the way, slow poke!”, reminded me of the high school track team… Sweet memories… Speaking of sweet, there I was, back at the donut tables again, ready to load up for the last lap of the race. My goal was to get another 4 down and I was barely able to do that. Seemed harder than the first time and by the time I was able to wash my hands, I was feeling pretty bloated (even more than I looked!). With my kids cheering me on, I headed back onto the course feeling a little less sure of my stomach and the turns and road bouncing ahead. “It’s for charity”, I kept repeating to myself, as if that was going to make my stomach happy. There were a couple of times in the first couple of miles where I wasn’t so sure I wouldn’t end up in the bushes… The feeling slowly subsided to a tolerable level and I moved as well as I could on this last lap.

Though I was nursing a slightly unhappy tummy, this was the last lap of my first bike race and I was feeling very happy! I had a smile on my face the entire race, but especially big on the last loop. I am not in great shape and I don’t have any skills to speak of… And I don’t have a real road bike nor do I have a multicolored riding ensemble, but I was here in the race and I was not making any number of legitimate excuses I could have made for not being here. There was a day not so long ago that I would have never found the time for this kind of nonsense. But today was not that day!! A normal guy out making the most of this moment in my life and for me, on this day and at this time, this was the best place I could imagine.

About 3 miles from the end, one of my teammates, Rob, asked if he could ride in my draft for a bit. Apparently, I created a great draft as several other riders asked if they could join as well! I could hear them back there relaxed and chatting and I believe someone even pulled out a game of Apples to Apples. All while I was sweating up a storm! Turns out my stomach issues made an appearance about this time and though I was polite and said, “Excuse me”, the drafting riders disappeared in a cloud of… hmmm… well, they were gone.

The last mile or so was a blur. I thought I was really going fast when I realized my glasses had slipped down too far. I moved them back into place and everything became clear again. Nearing the finish line, I saw my kids cheering wildly. What a wonderful sight!! Then I heard one of them yell – “Hey there’s Dad!” Never figured out what they were cheering about but at least they were having fun. The finish line!! Woohoo! I raised my hands high in the air with the joy of race completion!! Then frantically grabbed the handlebars before my bike went out of control. I’m gonna have to learn how those Tour De France riders are able to do that without falling…

My team greeted me cheerfully at the podium – where we watched other riders get awards. A big cheer went up from our team and others when our teammate, Al, was announced as the 2nd place winner in his age division. He announced during his victory speech that some of his competition had last been seen drafting behind a mystery rider before they completely disappeared… Crazy.

It was a great day and a terrific, well-managed event with wonderful volunteers. I hope I will be invited back again next year. I will definitely train for the donuts a little more…

Quandries

In one week I will be taking Ol' Hoo Koo E Koo down to American Fork to participate in the 4th Annual Tour De Donut. The event slogan is "Ride. Eat. Ride. Eat. Ride". Very cool slogan. The concept is ride 7 miles, eat as many donuts as you can, ride another 7 miles, eat as many donuts as you can and finish up with a final 7 mile sprint! For every donut you eat, 3 minutes is subtracted from your overall time. I love the blending of a very fattening food and a very healthy activity! So, the quandry...

Which do I train for - the bike riding where I will be riding my mountain bike alongside riders who will be cheating by riding bikes that are actually build for riding on the road... Or the donut eating where I believe I can make a real difference in my final time, even with stops for disgorging along the way! On the donut side, expanding my stomach will enhance my ability to cut multiples of 3 minutes off my riding time but the downside is that too much donut power training will also increase the bulk that the bike will have to carry, thus slowing me down even further. If I train more on the bike, I will be strong enough to carry the extra weight, so... maybe the key is to train for both!!

Then there is a little case of lifelong Hypoglycemia to consider where too much sugar brings my energy level down and puts me to sleep. No worries - I'll drink plenty of water to keep the sugar diluted and I should be fine. In fact, started my donut training a little while ago. Shoved down as many as I could and now I'm ready to head out for the bike part of today's training... Hmmm, feeling a little tired... Maybe I'll just lay down here for a couple of minutes first....................................