Ready for the sun
…and the rain
From the bottom
to the top
in body and mind
It’s alll
ready to go!
I promised myself I wouldn’t plan any new rides until I’d paid the bills for Climate Ride Midwest, but then THIS appeared in my mailbox!
Bike to the Beach Florida! Key Largo to Key West! January!!!
Everything happens for a reason, and I’m thinking this is why the thunderstorm shut down our GCI team just short of the Florida border…
The route:
Team Alliance for the Great Lakes:
Welcome to Indiana!
(Unmarked border…)
We started our morning riding through beachfront communities with beautiful (for the most part) homes.
Industry!
First water stop at Indiana Dunes…
Yes, I look that miserable. My cold was raging, I had something in my eye, and I hadn’t put the phone in airplane mode, so my real life was encroaching…
From there, we were mostly on bike paths for the rest of the day. Cathedrals of trees and twig-strewn riding gave way to greenways. Lunch was midway down the Oak Savannah Trail…
And welcome to Illinois!
My first glimpse of Chicago…
Shortly after hitting the Lake Shore Drive path, a slow flat (lots of glass in urban areas) took me out a mile from the meetup point. Fixed, thanks to our crew… And then it was time to hang out until the final 6 miles we’d ride as a group.
Stretching:
Examining cobwebs:
(Later, I observed a heavily-inked beard farmer frantically shooing one off his mountain bike. Apparently, the giant spider tattoo on his forearm was meant to ward them off, not as a token of his arachnophilia….)
No panties under bike shorts!
Beach fun:
And then we rode to Northerly Island, a long ribbon of Climate Riders, old and young…
Across the finish line:
Done!
You can still sponsored and support the Alliance for the Great Lakes here.
I started this morning sort of easy: fast enough to get warm (I give myself 15 minutes from a cold start – if I’m still cold, then I’ll put on the windbreaker), slow enough to stay under (but close to) 150 bpm on the heart rate monitor. I felt good, but I knew it was partly because I’d taken care of myself the day before.
But then I saw this and had to STOP!
Erin brought over the Shetland pony and the goat to meet me:
Goat selfie!
After the first water stop, we got to watch a bulldozer rip out some trees. Very sad.
Shortly thereafter, a few of the “carbon boys,” as I’ve nicknamed the young men on carbon bikes, invited me to join their paceline. So I did, and rode with them all the way to lunch.
And this is where we had lunch:
I don’t know why this statue seems like something from a dystopian YA novel, but it does…
Yarn bomb bike makes me happy every time I see it!
The first few miles after lunch I took it easy, but a paceline found me and I hopped on, and was immensely grateful to be drafting when we hit headwinds. We got to the fork in the road – right for the 57.7 mile day, straight for the 73.6 mile day. Camp wasn’t even open, and the long route featured a bike museum and a distillery.
Off we went, and even though I was dropped on a climb with a few miles to go?
The Dewey Cannon:
Bike Museum!
So… Started easy, rode hard, lunch, rode easy, rode hard, finished easy.
A good day and I’m ready for dinner, a bonfire, s’mores, and some Ravenswood Rye!
The 6am alarm was painful. I felt off – the cold has been contained to sniffles, but I went for the medication. I remembered the heart monitor. I committed to taking it easy and chasing the joy of the day.
For the first hour, however, I was chasing warmth. Yes, I brought a windbreaker. No, I was not going to cover up my fabulous new kit. No stops ’til Saugatuck!
After the water break, I was on a long road with wild turkeys and pick-your-own blueberry stands.
Lunch did not disappoint, although I fell over in the sand on the path in (my kit emerged unscathed)!
Nor did the pedicure of a fellow rider:
And then we were on the Kal-Haven trail (which I think should be named the Grandamazoo trail):
So, the sand/gravel made me cautious. And then there were the other hazards:
Our last stop of the day was at a local winery:
Ten tedious miles later:
But I didn’t have to switch rooms with George Emerson to get this view:
One of the (unintended?) consequences of staying in “Beer City USA” is the post-zombie apocalypse feeling the streets have on a Saturday morning. Also, it’s on the western end of the Eastern time zone, so the sun wasn’t up until well after 7, when I went out in search of a good local cup of coffee.
All the shops were closed, and all the people I saw on the streets were crazed (homeless or runners).
So, this happened:
Upon my return to the hotel, I met two members of a bridal party who were embarking on the same quest.
And then I was back at the Spoke Folks for the ride start.
Here’s where we’re going:
Here’s who I’m going with:
Here’s a dog who did not want to take a selfie with me:
Rousing speeches from a Grand Rapids council person and one of the Climate Ride founders:
And off we went! I quickly felt the differences between the Sexy Beast and my new bike. The stem is too long, the handlebar tape not cushy enough… But I love the Shimano shifters, even with a slightly damaged lever.
First rest stop:
Lunch:
Afternoon water stop… And what water it was! My first glimpse of Lake Michigan:
Something special is going on here today:
Yup, gorgeous:
Annnd we’re done and with 53+ miles on the Garmin? Michigan joins the DONE column!
I can feel the splinter in my finger, but I can’t be bothered to get up, turn on the lights, and extract it. When the alarm goes off…
Awake. Check phone. 3:18. Didn’t I set the alarm for 3? No, 3:30. Up quietly. The Domestic Partner gets to sleep until 4 (two different vineyards are coming in today).
The ginormous splinter slides out easily. Rubbing alcohol doesn’t sting. This worries me. My finger still hurts.
Showered, dressed, kissed and into the Uber. LA looks different from the backseat at 4am. You notice the construction fences. You fly by the cleanup crews and the abandoned flares on the 405, the remnants of someone else’s accident.
Baggage checked.
Dog noted.
Carbs loaded.
Flight boarded.
Zzzzzz.
Denver!
My connection is so far in the future that I don’t even have a gate assignment.
Five hour layover.
First Jamba Juice whatever it is they’re calling the Coldbuster now.
Southwest has great comfy chairs with built in plugs.
Grapes are harvested in Santa Maria (Chardonnay) and Sta. Rita Hills (Pinot Noir).
I lose my QOM on the Friday ride.
I overhear a couple talking about how they got their dog a note so it would be a “therapy dog” and they can get out of the charge. I really hate it when people game the system like that – it makes things more difficult for people who have real problems.
Grand Rapids!
Baggage claimed.
Cab snagged.
Heavens opened.
Bike reunited.
Bike dropped off.
Pre-ride carboloading in full force:
I had the Werewolf Lazer Circus and The Curmudgeon. I also had a couple beers by those names tonight.
Grand Rapids has Uber!
And nothing warms my heart like a boutique hotel in a small town. LOVING CityFlatsHotel
And the agenda for tomorrow:
My home team continues to undermine me. Larry shatters light bulbs into tiny pieces…
…necessitating Hello Kitty band-aids
And the Domestic Partner has done everything in his power to give me his cold, so I packed a little extra something in the emergency snacks/hydration department:
The recharging stations are always overloaded, so I’m bringing my own:
New kit from Machines For Freedom – so new you can’t even buy it on the website yet, but soon… And look for photos of it in action Day 2 of Climate Ride Midwest!
…and speaking of recharging stations, Lot 2 on 2d Street in Santa Monica has dozens of them for my new mode of eco-friendly transport:
Done
Done
To do:
This was a ride I was sorry to miss last year, and missing it was one of the first indicators that I wouldn’t be finishing all fifty states in one year. It was on my radar because I know Fargo sits on the Minnesota border, and hello, we love the centuries that let us bang out two states in one day!
Initially, the logistics seemed more daunting than usual. I’d been following the Great Plains Cycling Club on Facebook, and assumed that there’d be a bike shop in Fargo I could rent from. Yes, Great Northern Cycles had bikes, but the only rentals were hybrids, and I’ve learned that lesson. So I posted to the group, while researching bike rentals in Minneapolis (and debating whether to fly Southwest into Minneapolis-St. Paul or someone else into Fargo). Lo and behold, one of my fellow riders had an extra bike, and a loan was arranged. My cousin Stephanie decided to do the ride, too, and arranged for us to stay with one of my other cousins just outside of Moorhead (Fargo’s sister city) on the farm where my mom grew up.
So, Southwest to MSP, overnight stay near the airport, early morning rental car pickup, four-hour drive to the farm, registration, meetup with my new bike friend and arrangement for the next morning, and then back to the farm for a good night’s sleep.
Except.
It was June 13. Game 5. It’s not hard to get Minnesotans to watch a hockey game. But I had an early wake-up call, and ladies-and-gentlemen, YOUR Los Angeles Kings were not securing Lord Stanley’s Cup in a timely fashion. Tie. Overtime. Double overtime. GOAL!
Bed.
Rain.
I own four different rain jackets/windbreakers/ponchos. They were all reposing in my closet back in sunny Los Angeles. Thankfully, my cousin was prepared, and close enough to my size. Off to meet my teammates, get a quick fit on the borrowed Bianchi, and have some pancakes while we watched the weather.
It was wet, but not terrible. The handful of 100 mile riders stuck together, not quite in a paceline, but close enough that I was eating spray from the rider ahead of me.
Into Minnesota, back into North Dakota before the 50 mile mark, and then suddenly flying North in one of those the-sun-is-out-and-I-am-awesome sprints.
And then we reached the turnaround point.
You can see the exact moment the speed dropped. Headwinds.
Somewhere around here, I got so much mud in my Speedplay cleats that I couldn’t clip my left foot back in. I tried to pedal as best I could, but my foot slipped, and the pedal smacked my untethered left leg in the back of the ankle. The pain was staggering, and I was unhitched from my peleton. You can see the next full stop – that’s where one of the bike mechanics hooked my up with some lube, and I was clipped in and made it to the finish line, snagging a QOM along the way:
My cousin (can you believe that she’s a grandmother?) and me post-race. We did the rounds, and the longevity and youth in our gene pool is kind of crazy. And the youthfulness – this party bus below lives at one of my cousins’ homes:
I knew I’d come up short on Minnesota miles, and persuaded myself that I’d borrow Steph’s bike Sunday morning and do a few laps around the farm, but it was raining, and I was meeting an old friend in the cities.
Okay, this reminded me of Larry:
I got to the suburbs of St. Paul, and any plans for more cycling went straight out of my head as soon as I saw my friend. Some people you’ve known forever, and yet you have 25+ years to catch up on. And catch up we did. What kept coming up was pain – how we inadvertently cause it, how our own pain makes us careless and clumsy and hurtful, how we forgive, but can never really forget. But it wasn’t a painful night, far from it. The act of reconnecting with each other was also the act of connecting with our teenage selves and our capacity to feel deeply.
So, North Dakota done, and I’m happily taking an incomplete on Minnesota. I’ll be back, maybe to hook up with my cousins for RAGBRAI next year…
And the obligatory Lisa and dog shot:
Just the facts, ma’am:
I’ll be elaborating on some of these in later posts, but if you’re wondering about some of those ride names, ask below:
ll505050 