Other than kidney stones, in general there are three types
of stones that reflect special events in our lives, birthstones being the first.
The birth stone is the colored stone that represents the day that we arrived in
this world. A number of years ago, after our last child was born. I bought my
wife a necklace that contains the birthstone of each of our children. She
proudly wears it like many other mothers do in honor of that day and that
child. The ending of our days is represented by a headstone. The headstone or
gravestone is the marker that remains in memory of our time here in this world.
Some are quite elaborate and some are simple markers containing your name, date
of birth and the date that you passed on. Mine will read David Shelby Born Oct,
13, 1966 Died __________. Between those dates a number of milestones exist.
Milestones represent important events in our lives. The
Bible refers to them as Stones of Remembrance. We all have them. Sometimes they
reflect family events such as weddings, or the birthing of a child, or our
first house together. Milestones exist in our education when we graduate,
obtain scholarships, get accepted to schools or score well on certain tests.
Milestones occur in our careers when we start new jobs, get raises, complete
certain projects get promotions or tell our bosses to shove off.
In the life of a cyclist, there are a number of milestones. Maybe
it was your first bike. Or the day you started riding a mountain bike. My first
mountain bike race was a milestone. A quite comical one at that but I will save
that one for another day. My milestones include my first bike packing trip. My
ride across the Katy trail with my sons is a milestone and the ride across a
portion of the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route over several days in Colorado
is another. I clearly remember the first time that my chain slipped under
pressure causing the bike to lock up throwing me over the bars. I could go on
and on.
Sometimes for cyclists, the milestones are just that.
Mile-stones. I remember thinking that to ride twenty miles would be next to
impossible. And then I rode the Katy trail and we were riding fifty to seventy
miles per day. I was truly amazed. Amazed at both the amount of miles that we
covered, and at how bad my butt hurt. There is always a price to pay to
accomplish great things. One of the big milestones in a cyclist’s life is the
one hundred mile single day ride, referred to as the Century. It is a distance
that screams can’t be done. The Century is a call that requires an answer. It
is a ghostly voice that won’t leave you alone once its seed has been sown in
your mind. The one hundred miler is a challenge, a dare, that will require you
to bring your mind and body in to subjection in order to endure. So after talking about it many times, I
finally got tired of talking about it and made the decision to do it. Here are
my reflections.
Fashion is not always a consideration when you are cold
I picked an odd time to ride my first Century. It was
February 11th, 2016. It was a bitterly cold day in February. I had a
conversation with a fellow cyclist the day before about riding long distance
rides and races. When we concluded the conversation, something inside of me
said that talk was cheap. I had talked about it enough. It was time to get on
my bike and ride. I spent some time the night before preparing my gear and
loading my bike. It was going to take some additional gear simply due to the
temperatures and time of day that I was leaving. It was my goal to get up and
ride out at 4am in the morning. I was late as usual and got on the road at
4:45am which worked out fine. My path was simple. In Iola we are at one end of
the Prairie Spirit Trail which is a rail trail leading north from town ending
up in Ottawa Kansas, approximately fifty miles north. A round trip would
accomplish my goal. One of my sons had done the round trip ride a few years
before and I had wanted to do it ever since.
Realizing that I would need some extra calories, I packed
some chicken salad and some bread for sandwiches. I also took a bag of cashews
and pecans and several Cliff bars for good measure. I ate a decent breakfast of
two eggs toast, and a banana. I also downed a bottle of Gatorade and a big glass
of water. I rode the Salsa Fargo with a
DIY frame bag and two DIY top bar bags. I also carried a Camel pack with some
water and two bottles of Gatorade on the front forks. I did not want to carry
the Camel back but I was glad I did later. It was very cold that morning so I
layered up good with the clothing that I had. I wore a standard pair of leather
tennis shoes with a thick pair of wool socks.
At 4:45, I headed north in the darkness in 22 degree weather
directly in to a consistent north wind. It was quite uncomfortable. It was bad
enough that I wore ski goggles to keep the cold from drying my eyes out. A
little more than seven miles in to the ride, my goggles were fogging up making
it impossible to see and forcing several stops to clean them out. By the time I
reached Colony Kansas, approximately ten miles north my hands, feet and belly
were chilling pretty bad, and the water bottles that I was carrying on the bike
frame were both frozen. I stopped in Colony and ate a Cliff bar and considered
my situation. I almost decided to head back to my nice warm bed that was only
ten miles south with the wind at my back. The day light however was just
starting to break and I figured that the sun would warm things up just enough
to be bearable so I continued on after my short break.
The sun rose when I was a couple of miles north of Colony.
It did not warm things up much but the sunrise was enough to motivate me to
continue on. It was truly beautiful. I stopped for a quick break in Welda and
Garnett where I got a good picture of the bike next to a train caboose which is
to the north of the old train depot. Unfortunately time did not allow me to
stick around and check out the depot. I will have to save that for another day.
My next stop was in Richmond where I ate my first chicken salad sandwich and
some cashews. I dumped one of the bottles of slushy Gatorade in to my Camel
water bag in my backpack in order to thaw it out. It was still very cold at
that point. After filling up in Richmond, I continued north.
Another sunrise shot over "On Golden Pond"
Caboose in Garnet Kansas
The battle of the mind and body which occurs on long rides
is incredible. We have life so easy. And forcing ourselves to do things that
are difficult for the most part is just not common. We live lives in warm
homes, drive nice cars, work good jobs, have a little money in the bank
(sometimes), and our day to day lives are pretty comfortable. We don’t have to
walk or ride far. We don’t have to stress our muscles or our minds much so when
we do it is a very unnatural thing. My body starts to hurt and my immediate
mental response is to call my wife and have her pick me up when I get to
Ottawa. We always have an easy out if we want it and that makes finishing these
types of events even more difficult.
About ten miles south of Ottawa I had had enough. I was
ready to activate the emergency pickup plan and hunker down once I reached
Ottawa and await the arrival of the mini-van. It was about that time that I
came across a trail angel. A two wheeled wanderer. I came across Jimmy. When I
discovered Jimmy he was stomping on a can that someone had left on the trail.
As I stopped to say hello, he picked up the can and placed it in a plastic bag
that was tied, along with several other bags, on the handle bars of his bike.
Jimmy was pretty rough looking. His clothes were worn and dirty. His hair was
long and knotted. Jimmy’s skin was dark and weather worn, showing signs of a
hard life. Jimmy was not wearing fancy bicycle clothing or a helmet. He was
pulling a loaded trailer with a tire on one side and a rim on the other that
was packed to the top, behind an inexpensive mountain bike that was covered
with numerous plastic bags and other assorted items.
I stopped and said hello. Jimmy sauntered over to me and
said hello and smiled. I noticed that he seemed a little nervous. He was shuffling
his feet like a child does when he has been caught doing something wrong. He
had his hands behind his back and was kind of shuffling the rocks beneath his
boots with his head down while swaying back and forth. I told him my name and
reached out my hand and he responded in kind. I asked him where he was headed
and he said that he was headed to Ottawa and then on to Oregon. I asked him
where he had come from and he said Oklahoma. I asked him if he had friends or family in Oregon and he said that he had once had some friends in Oregon when
he was in college but he did not know if they were still there or not. In
talking to Jimmy, I could tell that he suffered from some mental illness
issues. He communicated very much like a young teen. He had a lazy eye which
also caused him to move his head on occasion to keep things in focus.
My friend Jimmy. May the wind always be at your back
I asked Jimmy how his food supply was and he said it was not
so good. I reached in to my pack and gave him the remainder of my cashews and
pecans and a couple of Cliff bars. I figured that I was going to stop in Ottawa
and grab a burger before my return ride, a luxury that Jimmy might not have. We
stood there for a moment Jimmy and I as if we were the best of friends. I don’t
know how long it had been since anyone cared enough to take a picture of Jimmy
but I felt compelled to do so. I asked him if I could get a picture of him next
to his bike and he was child like excited about having his picture taken. After
taking his picture, we said our goodbyes and I headed on north. After spending
time with Jimmy, the pain in my legs and lungs had disappeared to be replaced
with a profound sense of gratitude. I was thankful that I could ride. Thankful
that I was able to breath and that I still had a beating heart. I was thankful
for the ability to feel the cold biting through my skin. I was thankful for my
wife and my kids and my home and the friends that I have. I was thankful for so
many other things that guys like Jimmy will never have. There are a lot of
reasons why I ride bikes. Not the least of which is the amazing people that you
meet in the most unlikely places.
I arrived in Ottawa as planned. I stopped and grabbed a
burger and glass of tea at the local truck stop and headed back south. The ride
back was long and uneventful really, just another fifty miles of beauty and
pain. I rolled in to the garage after eleven and a half hours on the trail and
limped in to my warm house shaking from my body burning 2634 calories
throughout the ride. I heated up a fajita and sat down at my desk to reflect.
Then I took a long warm shower and awaited the muscle cramps which never came.
Sunset at the north end of Iola
So what will I remember about my first Century ride? Amidst
all the beauty and pain, the first thing is that it was a ride in which I
conquered my mind and body when they were both screaming to quit. Don’t let
your fears of the challenge keep you from doing it. When you think you cannot
go further, you can. It is a good principle when on the saddle of a bicycle and
in the living of life.
Often it is not the what’s that we remember but the who’s
that are most important. I don’t know what will become of Jimmy. But I am
thankful that I had the privilege of meeting him. I am thankful for his
childlike mind in which nothing is impossible and his simple ways, both of
which the world could use a lot of these days. So here’s to Jimmy. May God
bless you and keep you safe my friend. May the wind always be at your back.
Enjoy the ride.
