The final day

Day 5; just outside of Ely to State line; 52 miles, 3000+ feet, and 4 hours.

I woke up in my LaQuinta feather bed confused. After pushing my ride the previous day, and falling into bed that night with thoughts of "bike riding glory", today I woke with right leg pain and lots of doubt. I have been nursing some right posterior knee pain for the last two days of the ride, but nothing I really figured would keep me from riding through the "Silver State"? Professional distance athletes always talk about the race is 90% mental and 10% physical. I was too far into this odyssey to allow a stabbing pain in the back of my fatigued knee stop me from completing my final 60 miles (actually I only needed 52 miles to make the border, but didn't know it yet). I also had made an executive decision to start off today's ride early, so I made sure that I had on my warm cycling jacket for the refreshingly cool morning that was to be my last ridding across Nevada. Steve and I loaded the Prius, checked Lourdes, and preceded to drive the 15 miles to where I had finished Wednesday's ride. As I prepared to grind out another day of spinning the cranks for what, I'm sure, would seem like forever; Steve and I spotted a Antelope grazing along the road side. These animals are so beautiful (especially this close), and I couldn't help but think this was a good sign for my day's ride, like a good luck send off? 

Before I knew it I was hammering along highway 93 headed south and for what I hoped to be the completion of my ride across Nevada? I first 30 minutes my leg wasn't happy with my decision to get out of bed and use it. The knee slowly loosen up and allow me to focus my thoughts on sometime other then pain. My thoughts turned to; has all this been worth it. Was there more to this ride then I have realized? I'm pretty sure that I didn't find the true meaning of life during the last day, but I can with some certainty say I found out a lot about myself. I pushed the knee through the peddle strokes starting with just one, then two, then 20, soon 50, and so on, as I rode that much closer to my goal. I came up with the chant, "Just one more mile", then after I complete that mile, I repeated it for 60 more times.

The biggest, longest climb of the week came on this last day. I really thought that all the tough hills were finished, but I was to find out I had one more. About mile 30, I was faced with a pass that Wheeler peak (at 12,000 feet) was a part of. I approached the section that is flat before the climb turns to the sky, and had to motivate myself with knowing this was the last pass on my 400+ journey (well I didn't know this for sure, but I told myself that it was true). For anyone who rides a bike you can appreciate how I felt as I thought my climb was done, only to round the next bend in the road to see more. I rounded the next section, legs burning, cranking in my lowest gear, sweat pour of every pour of my body, then look up to take in the highway continuing its assent to what seemed like into the sky? Finally, when I was pretty sure I was about to collapse onto the road, I got my first glimpse of "the top". After 40 minutes and self inflected pain, I had reached the last summit (all totaled this trip I would end up peddle up the equivalent of climbing Mt. McKinley, North America's highest mountain peak). I had conquered the last test, and unless tragedy struck I was destined to make the border.

The Windmills that would be the calm before the storm. Right after these, I faced the biggest, steepest climb of the whole ride.

I crested the last pass and started my descent into the valley that would lead me to Utah. I didn't really feel much after I passed the last test. I think I was numb to bike riding a this point? I knew I was close, but had mixed feelings about it all. Was this really as rewarding as I thought it would be, could I have ridden more then this, would I ever ride across Nevada again? All questions I didn't yet have answers for. I passed the turn for the town of Baker, just 15 miles to the south, and I headed due east to the middle of no where (also known as the Nevada/Utah border). This last 10 miles were flat as a pancake, with nothing but sagebrush to see. I caught myself looking back behind me just to get a glimpse of the mountains (almost causing me to run off the road).  At this point my emotions hit me like Hoover Dam with its flood gates wide open. I could help but think about my wife and her battles with breast cancer. As I rode on towards the ultimate goal, my tears rolled down my sun bleach face and fell to the dry asphalt. I was embarrassed to be so emotional, and just prayed that I would keep it together at the end of all this? I was scared that Steve would be at the border and I would ride up to him an emotion mess (crying in front of another dude, not cool, unless you just shoot your first huge deer and you're shedding tears of joy). Before I knew it into view came the "Welcome to Utah" sign, and I had completed what it had started a long 5 days earlier. Keeping my emotions in check, I had Steve snap some pictures, made a video thanking my wife for the inspiration to reach my dreams, and packing up my things. I didn't want to sit around a ruminate about the trip, so I told Steve, let's hit the road. I hadn't been in a car for a week, so the first few minutes speeding along at 4 times bike speed was a little surreal. Then the next thing I can remember; is Steve pulling the Prius into the town of Delta's Dairy Freeze, an hour and half later, for a much deserved turkey burger, fries, and large Blackberry shake.

This is right after I kissed the ground under my feet, I was so happy to be finished with the 410 mile dream ride.

Stats for ride across Nevada; 5 days, 25.5 total hours, climbed close to 20,000 feet, burned around 20,000 calories, drank 50 gallons of water and/or poweraide, and saw one Antelope. 

Putting in a little more...

Day 4; ridding from Eureka to Ely (and beyond), 90 miles, 4000 feet +, 7 hours.

Riding up the hill out of the town of Eureka.

Today was to be the easiest day of the trip. The ride was to include only 75 miles,  three passes to cross (with elevations equaling less then 4000 feet), and some of the best scenery (though I thought that the first three days had some pretty nice stuff to look at)? I'm not sure why this is the case, but everyday's ride seem to have a large uphill climb first thing. Yesterday leaving Austin I had to climb a 1500 foot pass, and today it turns out coming out of Eureka I was met with almost the same? Looking at the glass half full, this is a fantastic way to get warmed up on these chilly Nevada mornings.

I was glad to get some quality riding time in with Steve. Steve's been a life saver for me on this trip. He's support me with ice for my water bottles, someone to pull me in through the last 15 to 20 miles of these long, hot days on the bike, and also just to have somebody for company. I think that he got in 50 or so miles today? I know that he would most likely rather be riding the whole distance across Nevada, but someone has to  drive the support car (and I thought of riding across Nevada first).

I seemed to be getting stronger everyday? Today the miles just evaporated under my tires, and the hours just flew by. I surmised that when you have varying terrain the "on bike time" seems so much more manageable. As the morning (again another very beautiful September day in central Nevada) moved into the afternoon I started seeing new types of foliage, and I was riding through rock wall canyons. I stopped to take a picture of the Illipah sign at just over the 55 mile mark, because this is a lake that I had fished a great many times in the past, and it brought back some great memories. This day I had tried something new during the ride; not turning on my GPS watch. I wanted to see if the time would go by faster when I just rode the bike without thinking of my speed, time, or mileage? This new technique was working well, because I was surprised when in to view came the Ruth mines, so I knew that I was less then 10 miles from Ely.

I had this nagging voice in my head telling me to ride through Ely this afternoon, and push for 90-100 miles today, instead of the 75 that I had planned on ridding. Why, well my voice was sure that if I rode for what would have been 75 miles (the last day is from Ely to the Utah border, and that is about 75 miles) and that would have taken me 6 to 7 hours which means I wouldn't have finished the ride until the late afternoon. I figured that I needed some rest time before the "BIG" xterra race on Saturday morning, and if I could finish this ride in the morning of Thursday, I could get 36 hours of recovery? These thoughts just rode along with me for a good part of 20 miles as I rode closer to Ely. Just about the time I was totally immersed in my thoughts, Steve comes riding up on the opposite side of highway 50 (he looked a little to fresh for my likes). I got some welcomed news from Steve; the last 10 miles or so into Ely was mostly downhill. Yes, I needed some positive news to cover for the pain that was nipping at my right calf/knee area. I sat on the rear wheel of Steve's Litespeed bike, and he proceeded to pull me into the town of Ely. As we made our way past the center of town's park, Steve shared with me that his father proposed to his mother in this park. I could definitely understand why, the park was so cute and had that small town, homey, romantic feel. I sure that any future bride would be tickled pink if their Knight in shining armor ask for their hand in marriage here?

Steve had driven ahead into Ely to make us a reservation at the LaQuinta hotel (after the last three nights of staying in some flea-bag motels, I was ready for a little upper end accommodations). So he and I continued on until reaching highway 93 south that led us to the Hotel. I hadn't mentioned to him about my voices during the day, telling me to ride on and complete enough miles today, so I could limit the time in the saddle tomorrow (day 5). I think that Steve thought I was a little crazy when I told him to drive south on highway 93 and pick me up in about an hour (I figured this would allow me to ride close to 15 miles, totaling 90 or so today. More importantly was the last day of this journey would only consists of 60 miles. I refueled the water bottles and set off at my natural pace of about 15 mph, with the biggest smile on my face. I was not only going to make this epic adventure across Nevada, I was going to ride another 90+ mile day. This would make the third in four days of my trip (remember I had never even ridden my bike more then 72 miles before 4 days ago). I'm not sure I have ever felt better? I could imagine how tomorrow would feel as I approached the "Welcome to Utah" sign? This is as good as I could imagine ever feeling, can it be topped?

Comins Lake 8 miles south of Ely, you could see the reflection of my big smile in the water.

Back for more...

Day 3; Austin to Eureka; included 82 miles, three passes to crest (4000+ feet), and 6 hours on the bike:

I woke on Tuesday morning to the dread of knowing that I was to start day 3 of my journey climbing the longest, highest pass of the 410 mile trip. For anymore who has driven through the town of Austin, you know that if you're going east there is a significant hill to climb going both into town and out. I was to be returned to the previous days stopping point. Which today would be todays starting point, and then climb the 10 miles into Austin (this is where I collapsed onto the shoulder of highway yesterday). All I could think about as Steve drove me to the starting point was; welcome to day 3 of your self imposed pleasure trip. Please tell me that today was going to be easier then day 2's physically exhausting ride?

I'm off for a day of riding, on another picture perfect day. The climb back up through the town of Austin was actually very peaceful. At was 9 am, and the sun was rising high enough to warm the frigid morning temperatures to comfortable. Steve had drove ahead 15 miles to get onto his bike (he still has come up with a cool name for his bike) then ride back to me, turn around and ride with me back to the car. This way he can get some miles done (this is what we decided would work best for the rest of the trip, Steve to drive up 15-20 miles mount his bike ride back and then both of us ride to car again). Steve and I met at the top of the summit, and I took a phone video that included the summit's elevation and that it's the highest of the 12 or 13 summits (passes) that we ride. I ride on down a really fun, and dangerous grade, and Steve moves the car forward another 20 miles to repeat the process.

Riding up the sleep grade through the town of Austin, NV

Little did I expect to pass not one but two fellow bicyclist as I raced down the mountain pass, but that's exactly what happened. Who could be insane enough to be out here in the middle of the countries 5th largest state? I just had to find out what drives someone to do this (I'm not sure that I know what drives me, and I was really hoping that these strangers could provide me with some answers?). As I approach where seemed like an older gentleman (with no helmet, I might add), I was concerned coming up behind him without warning, so I needed a way to let him know I was there? I stayed a back a ways and yelled out, "Yeah there crazy fellow biker", not sure best opening line, but it got his attention. We chatted while cruising  highway 50 pavement. I came to understand a little about my fellow bikers feelings on the difficulty of the ride and how far he had come. I got a name, Tim, and residence of Carson City, but never could get my question answered of what drives him to do this kind of biking trip (Oh he was planning on riding to Colorado)? Maybe this wasn't supposed to be answered; just one of those things that each one of us secretly carries inside, driving them to accomplish great feats? After a bit, I rode on by thinking this was probably only the first meeting of many to come?

Tim as I rode up behind him yelling out, "Yeah crazy fellow biker"

Meeting a couple of fellow bikers and riding a lot with Steve made day 3 go by so fast. This day included three 7000' passes, and a couple of fun, fast downhills, but the best thing was it really felt easy compared to yesterday (thank God). We did have a challenge finding a motel room in Eureka. Steve had called all the motel in town while waiting for me to finish one of my days segments, and found out that all the rooms in town where taken. As we rode into town in the late afternoon, and our great day was made even greater by lucking out finding a motel room just as we enter Eureka (There was a lady in front of the first Motel we passed, and Steve just asked if she by chance had any rooms for the night, can you believe that she had a cancellation and offered us the room on the spot? Nice ending to a long, but enjoyable day I'd say!

The Eureka motel, that we were fortunate to get because all the room in town were taken.

Three days, 260 of the 410 miles completed, over halfway point. I knew as I dismounted Lourdes I was going to make my dream of riding my bike across Nevada, now I could truly enjoy the last two days of the ride.

100+ miles couldn't end sooner...

Day 2 biking across Nevada stats; Fallon to Austin, 103 miles, and 4200 feet elevation

I woke up excited for the second day of my biking trip, because I would get to do three things that I really had been thinking would be so cool? I loaded up my panniers with my stuff and clipped into the pedals and start my second day riding on the most gorgeous day out of Fallon. So far, I have been blessed with the best weather, no clouds, comfortable temperatures, and very little wind, and the forecast calls for more of the same all the way to the Utah border on Thursday. One of the three things I was really hoping to experience today is seeing the Navy "Top Gun" pilots flying in and out of Fallon Navy airstation? The complex is just outside of town, and I was hoping that they would be doing some training flights so I could get my very own air show this morning? My excitement began to wain as I got further away from Fallon and no sight of the "fly boys". Just as I was about to give up hope of seeing any planes, I heard the whine of a jet engine and I about fell off Lourdes (my bike's named after my wife and daughter) trying to retrieve my cell phone camera. As the F-18's lifted off from the airstrip I took a video. My day was starting out well.

The second thing that I really looked forward to day was ahead about 10 miles (20 miles from Fallon). I rode along at a pretty good pace (18 mph), and came to the area that I wanted to make a montage. There's rocks that over the years have been placed in the sand along both sides of the highway, spelling out names, dates, and such. I have been thinking that would it be fun to spend a moment spelling out a note for my wife? What would I write? I looked for the very best spot to align my rocks, and stopped the bike along the side of the road and began my work. I used the rocks from a neighbor's plot (sorry Jim loves Lisa, but I was in a hurry), and this is what I came up:

My dedicated monument to my wife, but I figure anyone passing by will enjoy?

The third thing that I was interested in seeing today was the "New Shoe Tree". For all the highway 50 new bees, this is a large Oak tree in the middle of Nevada that for years people have been throwing shoe into it's branches. Over the last twenty years or so, this tree has really been accumulating footwear (hundreds of pairs, if not a thousand) before someone thought it would be funny to cut the tree down, which is exactly what happened a few years back (maybe they saw a pair of Nikes that they just had to have?). The last year or so; a new shoe tree, "Shoe Tree II" has been sprouting shoes of all types. I crested Sandhill pass around noontime and as I began my decent to middlegate I could see the new shoe tree, and there in its shade was my friend Steve and my red Prius wait I could only assume for me? Lunch was waiting for me, and I was really glad to see Steve, because I was starting to realize that these next four days without support would have killed me.

"Shoe Tree II, meeting Steve for a little lunch at about mile 50.

The morning's ride was very enjoyable, but I was about to find out that the rest of the day was going to be tough. At lunch Steve and I consulted on the best route to get to Austin? You can follow the old highway 722 over the mountain pass or keep going on 50 around the mountains. we surmised that both ways were about the same distance, but that the 722 route had a lot more elevation to it, so follow the path around the mountains was the choice. The next 50 miles tested my will, made me ask "why, and really got me thinking could this ride get any harder? The afternoon produced a wind (they're always into your face on a bike), and the road just seemed to continue on forever? The next time I looked, which seemed like forever, I was still 45 miles away from Austin. Was I going backwards? The miles weren't passing very quickly at all, and with everyone that pass I wondered whether or not I might make it? After being on my Lourdes for 8.5 hours I coasted down the last pass and into the valley that ends in Austin. Just as the slope of the valley went from DOWNHILL to UPHILL I collapsed onto the sandy should of the road, not far from where the last of the days cars and trucks were whizzing by at 75 mph. But I didn't care, I actual thought that if just one truck could run me over, maybe I would be saved from another day of biking like today?

Here I lay at the end of day 2, 100+miles. Right after this photo was taken, Steve had to load me into the car and drive me the last 10 miles to Austin

Tonight was going to be a night of reflection. How would my body respond to today's abuse? Could I put another long day tomorrow getting to the next stop, Eureka (this ride would normally be 70 miles, but because I had to go back in the morning to where I had finish day 2, I would need to do 80)? The shower that night, I decided has never felt so good, and as I got into bed, I could hear that demon whispering, "tomorrows a new day, you haven't gotten rid of me yet".

Nobody said that it was going to be easy...

Day One of ride across Nevada; South Lake Tahoe to Fallon; 90 miles:

Getting dropped to start the ride across Nevada

What do you think about when riding a bike 90 miles across Nevada's desert? 

Well for me, it was a lot of "why am I doing this" and "how is what I'm doing making 

a difference" questions. I know that I've talked a lot about how riding my bike 
100 miles/day for 5 straight days, will make a difference in people's life or 
bring more awareness to the fight against breast cancer, but while I pedaled 
away for 5.5 hours, what I came to realize is I'm doing this mostly for me. All 
those other points about awareness, making a difference are great (and I would 
hope some of this is true), but my realization is I'm being selfish. Taking 4 
days from my family (especially a time when my wife needs me???) and indulging 
in a self centered act is all I could come up with. As I passed a state park, 
Lahontan, where the locals go to do water sports (water is so low I don't think 
anyone can use the lake?) it donned me that this EPIC ride across Nevada is a 
coping mechanism helping me to deal with wife's cancer? Maybe all this really only 
has a benefit for me? The further I rode into the late afternoon the more clear 
this became to me. Could this be the reason for my ride? God's way of guiding me 
to a new enlightening? All these thoughts swirling around under my pink biking 
helmet were really taking a mental toll of me. 

Late in the afternoon I could feel the sun sinking down towards the horizon, it's mid day heat fading 

away just as the hours do, and I discover I have made over 3/4 of the days ride. One 
positive of all the days mental gymnastics is I had totally lost track of both 
the time and the incredible leg soreness that I was experiencing.  Now after 4.5 
hours traversing the western Nevada desert, I found myself to focus on my 
fatigued legs to continue any philosophical thoughts. The last 15 miles were a 
struggle of wills. Will my legs start cramping, will my low amount of water 
last, and will I have enough energy to make Fallon. I was pretty happy when see 
got a glimpse of Fallon's first stop light. As I pulled my bike to a stop (light 
turned "red" just as I got there) I just yelled out to no one in particular 
(seeing that I hadn't had a conversation with anyone other then myself for the 
last 4 hours, I guess that hoped a passing car might answer me), and I felt 
euphoric. This day was to me my personal best in both length of ride and total 
continuous time on a bike (90 miles, 5.5 hours). Then just as the light turned 
green again I realized that tomorrow's ride was longer and likely harder? Well 
at least I got a fleeting moment of happiness in. 

I'm not sure what to make of this? I had a encounter that I believe most people 
would agree with me must have been a holy intervention? First to set the tone 
and get to the holy part, I have to tell you about my "burning calves". Even 
though I have spent the last 14 days planning this bike ride, I still absent 
mindedly forgot a few things, but none as bad as the sunscreen. Riding 410 
miles, in cloudless 90 degree weather without protection, might just be the 
worse thing one could do? After riding down from South Lake Tahoe on Spooner 
pass, I could start to feel the burning like a hot skillet on the backs of my 
calves. First thing that jumped into my mind was, "Dag, I forgot to put on 
sunscreen, and the second was, I need to stop now and get some.  Riding your 
bike across Nevada is tough enough, but doing it as red as a Lobster would be, oh 
so bad.  So I pulled Lourdes into a Shell gas station just out of Carson City. I 
was unsure whether or not they'd have any sunscreen, but was hopeful? While 
dismounting my bike, a young lady and her daughter pulled their car in behind 
where I had parked my bike. As she exited her car she immediately commented on 
my pink breast cancer jersey. "I like your shirt, where you riding your bike 
to", was her first question? I capitalized on the opportunity to explain that I 
was riding my bike from the California to the Utah border and wearing the pink 
breast cancer jersey to bring awareness for breast cancer survivors, like my 
wife. She was touched by the fact that I would ride my bike that far, and be a 
big supporter of women effected by the disease, and when I told her my ultimate 
goal was to ride 1500 miles next summer to raise money for a local breast cancer 
support group, she immediately ask, "how can I donate"? I then realized that I 
didn't really have a way for people outside my family, friends, and patients to 
donate to the cause. I was touched that she wanted to donate, and quickly 
produced $5 and handed it to me saying "I want to help, my mother has been 
battling breast cancer for years and I'm touched by your interest in helping 
breast cancer victims".  Wow, an unexpected pleasant surprise. I never expected 
to get money donated by a bystander during this trip. Hard to not see this as a 
sign that I'm on the right track, and my journey is important. This world is 
full of caring, kind people.

First $5 donated to Breast Cancer cause.

My luck continued as when I inquired about the convenience store have sunblock, 
they had one tube of 45 spf protection left. No matter that the small tube costs 
more then my lunch, it was vital that I buy it to protect my exposed skin. After 
generously apply the new sunblock, I was eager to get back on my way, as I still 
had another 60 or so miles to go today.

I couldn't help but think that someone was ridding with me on this important journey?

This is what it's all about...

Lake Tahoe Hyatt Beach August 2012

This is what it's all about. I have a blessed life, and a beautiful, healthy, supportive wife to share it with. She is my inspiration to do crazy, health related adventures. I can't tell you how many times that I have been suffering during one of my "crazy adventures" I have pulled from the strength that she has shown these last three years battling breast cancer. In august, as I was in the middle of Lake Tahoe's 65 degree waters swimming 5 miles from the CalNeva to Sand Harbor beach, I remembering thinking as my hands turned numb how I'm I going to make this? I thought about Lulu going through 6 months of cell killing, mind altering, body destroying chemotherapy and I knew I could take one more stroke. As one stroke turned into two, I found the strength to swim through the "discomfort" that I was experiencing. This swim, like my other ventures, is only a temporary inconvenience, not the life altering and constant pain of having cancer. I made this swim on her back.

During May of this year, I completed my first 1/2 Ironman in California. Again this took everything I had and more. I fought hard and found that I could endure 6.5 hours of painful effort. the strength of my effort could be contributed to my wife and her living with the fact that she can't do some of the things she once enjoyed after dealing with all he cancer treatments. I distinctly remember hitting a wall during the 13.1 mile run. This 1/2 Ironman course is know for being one of the most difficult in the world due to the elevation (climbing) that you have to push your body through, and I was experiencing on of the tough dirt climbs (feeling like someone had poured molten lead into my Pearl Izumi shoes), and thinking about how I could just stop right now and be done? Who's going to really care if I finish this race or not? But I knew; I would care, and my wife can't just stop her fight again cancer, so I must finish this for her. Just 200 feet to the top of this quad burning hill and I will get some rest on the downhill, one foot in front of another. Ok, only 100 feet to the top, I just might actually make this? She's watching me. I could feel the power of my wife a state and a half away in Reno, she was guiding me along, adding to my tapped out strength. How can I NOT make it now, only 25 more feet, I'm there. I can't tell you how many times that I encountered those "I can just stop this" feelings (more then I could count), I reached for my inspiration, and it was there for me every time. This inspiration lead me finishing chute of this "grueling " event, and after 6.5 hours I finished wondering "what's next"?

"What's next", turns out to be the USA xterra championships in Utah, with a 5 day (410 mile) bike trip across Nevada to get there. I had set a goal before 2012 season, that was to qualify for this race. The best of the best from all over he US race against each other at this event. I knew making this a goal I was, for me, shooting high, but I could accomplish it with a lot of training and effort. Well, it took "a lot" of effort and way more training then I ever expected, but in the beginning of August I received a email declaring that I qualified for the September 22nd, race. So here we are, the day before heading across the Nevada desert, thinking about what I'm about to do, and why I'm doing it? I feel drawn to the challenge of these adventures. Somehow seeing all the suffering that not just my wife has endured, but also all those effected by cancer, lifts me to new aspirations, ones that hopefully will in turn lead others to try a little harder, do a little more, and care enough to make a difference?

Tomorrow is a new adventure, with God protecting me, and my wife's inspiration moving me forward. I'll make this trek and finish with a newly sense of purpose!

Here I am with my biking rack and panniers, getting ready for the ride:

Group biking is more fun

I have been thinking about how blessed I am, and how everyday of my life just gets better. As the date of the ride across Nevada grows closer (7 more days to the start), I contemplate just what I need to do training wise leading up to this ride? Today I was invited by four friends on a 40 mile ride around North Lake Tahoe area (we were going on a ride that is very similar to next September's Ironman Lake Tahoe ride, but only 40 miles not two laps and 116 miles like a Ironman), and I was very excited to do this. I'm always more motivated to ride with fellow bikers. Here we are at the beginning for the ride (Steve, Brent, Brandon, and Jim).

I wanted to see what two bike rides back to back and 40 miles (moderately difficult) would feel like. This would be a good test, and beginning next Sunday I will be doing 5, 80-100 mile rides, back to back. Today was to be an interesting day. First, as our group rode away from North Shore's CalNeva hotel towards Tahoe City, Steve hit a rock that caused him a flat tire. Luckily, he was group riding because I don't think he was caring a spare bike tube? Since there's 5 of us, he did get a lot of help changing his tire though. I always find it a tad bit ominous when I get a flat in the first mile of any ride (this has happened to me twice just this year, I also double flatted twice too). As the group helped Steve get back in the saddle, I was realizing I had a small issue that I needed to deal with.

After riding my bike for close to three years in the same Shimano shoes, this week I broke down and bought a new pair of road shoes. Along with the shoes I decided that my cleats were sufficiently worn, and could use replacement too (cleats are the platform that attached to the underside of the shoe and connects the shoe to the pedal). It all seemed like a good idea; however, as I began the ride I found that the shoe's cleats would not engage the pedals. Dang! Unknown to me that the pedals I use (Look Keo) use a slightly small cleat then the other Look products. I also learned a lesson from this, which is always test your equipment before setting off on any ride. Darn! I wasn't entirely sure if I could do a 40 mile ride with only my toes loosely engaged in the pedals? I informed the group that I was going to ride ahead and see if one of the bike shops in Tahoe City had the right cleats for my pedals. Off I went. I was not far from reaching Tahoe City, really beating myself up over my stupidity, when it dawned on me that I didn't have much money, and the cleats (if I found them) would certainly cost me more then I had. Would the other guys have any money with them, would the shop sell the cleats to me and let me pay them later, could I just continue on the ride with what I had now? It turned out once the group caught up to me in Tahoe City, Brandon had some cash and I scraped together just enough money to buy the right sized cleats. Lesson learned, and after a half hour detour, I was back in business.

The group rode ahead as I finished installing the new cleats on my new shoes, so I needed to catch up to them. Easier said then done. I jumped back onto Lourdes (named after my wife and daughter) and got down in Areo position and proceeded to "kill it" (that's biker terminology for ride as fast as I could). After speeding along around 23-24 mph for what seemed like ever, I still didn't see "the guys" up ahead. Finally, as I passed the Squaw Valley turn off, I caught a glimpse of Steve's Pink Breast Cancer Jersey and I figured they were about 400 yards head? I got back into fast biking position, and peddled as hard as I could; however, I still didn't seem to be making up ground on them? I knew that I was using up lots of energy just to catch up, but I wanted to be in the group. Finally, at the end of 89 stretch, maybe 30 mins of catch up, they stopped for me. Back in the group felt good, for sure.

30 miles down, ten killer miles up 267 past Northstar resort, left. I had never ridden the climb from Truckee to Kings Beach (and let me tell you, I'm not sure I want to do it ever again?).  What a climb this is. The extra weight of my panniers (about 15 pounds) were very noticeable during this 5 mile/6-7% grade. Steve and Brandon really pushed the pace up the long hill, and I struggled to just keep then in sight. I was reveling in my joy as I crested the summit and began the fast, fun ride down to Kings Beach.

By the time I reached the Jims' Toyota truck, I was done. I'm not sure why I felt so tired, but figured it was a combination of back to back rides, and all the energy I spent trying to catch up to the group during the middle of the ride? The Pink Breast Cancer Sleeveless Jersey came through for me again. This jersey is not only inspirational to me, but also it just feels soooo good on me. Good thing, because for 5 days next week I'll have this on for 6-7 hours/day. Here's a photo of us at the end of the ride.

Thank you mother nature for giving us a splendid day to enjoy the camaraderie of 5 dudes biking in the most beautiful place in the world.