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Two of our riders have written their own versions of the event. If you have
ever considered attempting this ride, their perspective might interest you.
Susan
_____________From Linda__________
Hey Gang,
Like Richard said, I'm sure my report won't do RAO justice, but I'll give it
a shot.
Most of the weekend is still a blurr in my mind. As I've slipped back into
my normal routines, I'm finding that I've changed, while life has gone on
everywhere else. It feels like I've been to the moon and back and don't
quite fit in anymore. I've heard this about rides like RAAM but didn't
expect to feel this way about RAO. This ride changes the people who ride it
and those who support it; in a good way, I think.
I was surprised at how amazingly good I felt at the finish. There certainly
were times during the race when I felt really bad and had doubts about my
ability to finish. After you "hit the wall" it seems that you can actually
come out of it stronger. I'm sure that I was holding something back during
the race just because I really didn't want to blow up and let my teammates
down.
This is, first and foremost, a team event; much more so that Cycle Oregon,
STP in one day or any other ride I've done. That's precisely why I wanted
to do it; I'm so glad that I did.
Enough philosophy, some significant moments for me during the race:
-my 1st leg. I was the 4th rider in our rotation and the last to get the
willys out of my system, the waiting felt like torture.
-climbing Bakeoven Rd. This climb scared all of us; it's about 25 miles of
steep, constant up, we'd practiced it during one of our weekend training
rides, which took some of the mystery away. It was on this climb were
Richard uttered his, now famous, phrase "You Poor Bastard" while watching
Scott tackling a big chunk of this hill. It quickly became our team Mantra.
I drew the lucky straw and got the 1st, steepest part of the hill on
Saturday afternoon. It was also the hottest part of the day and both the RV
and the follow car had stopped to gas up, so I was literally climbing the
hill all alone. Other than feeling like I might explode at any moment from
the heat and energy of the climb, I felt pretty good and just kept spinning
up the hill. At some point I began to wonder when the support vehicles
would show up and just how far up I'd need to climb before they could put
Scott out to relieve me. Just when it felt like they would never show up,
here comes the RV blaring it's horn with Susan and crew hanging out the
windows cheering me on. It felt wonderful; like the cavalry had finally
arrived. As soon as I got off the bike, Susan put an ice cold bottle of
water in my hand! It felt like heaven. Did I say what an amazing crew
chief she is?
-Race Across Aruba. Laura and I were relaxing on the bed in the back of the
RV, laying in the sun and feeling pretty good still. I came up with the
idea that while we should definitely do this again next year, we should
really pick a much better location with fewer hills, shorter distances and
margarita breaks every 3-4 miles. Laura and I both thought this was
hysterically funny, which tells you alot about what exercise induced sleep
deprivation can do to your brain.
-Sometime near midnight Saturday night. This was where I hit the wall. I
hadn't gotten any real sleep yet, was dealing with intestinal issues and
severe leg cramps. I had a sweet piece of road to ride on during this leg,
but all I remember is how bad I felt during the ride. I got back into the
RV, Susan fixed me some hot soup, I downed a recovery drink, gatorade, a
salt pill and some raisins and crashed in the back of the RV. Amazingly, I
slept well. I woke up 15 minutes before my next pull, got ready to ride and
felt like a new woman on the bike. I was able to catch a few ZZ's between
each of the rest of my pulls, which helped me stave off the worst effects of
the sleep deprivation we were all experiencing.
-Sunday morning, not sure where we are. The rain showers that hit us during
the early morning hours had stopped and the wind had started to pick up. I
had a flat/rolling hills section to ride and I was down on my aerobars the
entire time. I felt strong and rode fast. About midpoint during my leg I
saw George Thomas, the ride organizer, riding his bike along the course and
cheering me along. George is an amazing person, as I would come to learn.
He literally puts his heart and soul into this event and it really shows.
-The scary bit. We were coming out of Warm Springs after fighting headwinds,
cross winds, gusting winds from every direction for miles; I was looking
forward to riding a nice descent followed by one of the few flat sections in
the course. Laura came screaming down the hill and I took over from her.
Immediately, I was up to 35mph and my bike started shimmying dangerously. I
got the bike stopped and looked down to find that my front brake lever was
still in the UP position. This really scared the **@#** out of me. I
yelled back to Jeff in the follow car what had happened, fixed my brake and
got back on the road. The bike immediately began to shimmy again so I
slowed it to a stop. Jeff asked me if I wanted to ride another bike or put
Scott out on the descent. I thought about it for all of 2 seconds and said
"put Scott out, I'll take his pull".
I knew I couldn't ride safely at that point and I didn't want to have an
accident within hours of reaching the finish line. When I took over from
Scott, the winds had started to die down and we'd started climbing up
towards Mt. Hood. I felt under control on my bike, once again.
Although this could have had a nasty end, I felt this was an excellent
example of teamwork in action.
-The finish. We'd decided ahead of time to change our ride strategy once we
reached the base of Timberline Rd and put a new rider out every 1 mile.
This worked well for the riders but created complicated logistical
challenges for our crew. Even though they were all dead on their feet at
this point in the ride, our amazing crew executed the exchanges flawlessly.
All of four of us rode the last .6 mile up to the summit together. I
couldn't have felt prouder seeing our crew all standing up there at the
Timberline summit cheering us across the finish line. Massive hugs were
exchanged all around and several pictures taken. A few minutes later, my
family arrived to add to the celebration.
-2 Days later. I'm still feeling sleep deprived and pleasantly fatigued.
My bags are all unpacked and the laundry's done. My bike still needs a good
cleaning but otherwise life has returned to normal. But it's really not
normal at all. I feel as if I have accomplished something I never thought
possible with the support of 3 incredible teammates and 5 awesome support
crew who will forever more be my lifelong friends.
Thank you TBBRAO. You guys rock!
Linda
______________ From Richard ____________
Well, I won't be able to do the subject the justice that Susan did, but
here's my piece, as far as I can remember.
I too had trouble sleeping, although I managed to sleep until 4am. This, of
course, was not the time to be short on sleep. Our preparation the day
before had been quite frenzied, between getting the alternative pace car set
up, to vexing problems with our rented radio communications.
Saturday morning dawned, and Linda and Steve gave me a lift to the start
line, via Kens Artisan Bakery. Got some nice fresh bread there. Arrived at
the start, loaded the remainder of our gear, and stood around chatting.
Scott pushed off with the rest of the four person team starters at 9am. We
cheered. Michael took off his shirt. Did that photo come out Scott?
We all piled into the RV, and headed out to the first exchange point. We
knew it would take a while for Scott to get there - the first 10 miles were
neutral, and likely to be somewhat slow. Scott shows up, mixed with the
Headhunter rider, and one other. I take over. I ignore my pre race planning,
and go a little too hard. The exchanged headhunter rider sprints off the
line, but I catch him on a moderate hill. I discover that he is faster than
me on the level, and I can easily catch him on hills. Unfortunately, I miss
two lights, and lose about 90 seconds. The rest of the trip up to Hw 35 is
sweet - working hard, enjoying the scenery - perfect temperature. We do a
few more hand offs. I get a nice short descent after Government camp - up to
43MPH. Little did I know that I wouldn't get too many more of them.
From there, it just seemed to be mostly up hill for me. I remember a portion
of road between Dufer and Tygh Valley, where there was a significant grade
that too me down to 8MPH, then a gentle uphill that saw me at almost 20MPH.
Had a bit of a tailwind there.
Rider changes went smoothly - it was always a relief to see the next rider
(always Laura) waiting for me up ahead. Hey Laura, you can have this &*^^%$
hill. Still, I don't mind hills.
The rest of the day was not unlike our training rides. You get into a
rhythm. Ride at about lactate threshold (on Saturday, anyway), get off the
bike, swill down some recovery juice, plus some water, sit down, and get the
HR down. After the HR is down, look for something a little solid (I love
Salami). Look at some of the beautiful scenery. Check the map. Welcome Laura
and Linda back in the RV after they finish their pulls. Laura and Linda are
very strong riders. We are in the hands of our support crew. Opps. Scott
has now been riding for 15 minutes, and I'm on in 15 minutes. Chug down some
Gu. Get the gear back on. The RV stops at a pull out, and we pile out. Jay
(or Kyle, or Susan) gets the bike set up. I go find a green room. I must be
hydrating well - judging by the frequency at which I have to find a green
room. Get out into the road, and look over my shoulder. OK. I see Scott
powering up the hill. There are only uphills on this ride. I clip in, get my
balance, then hammer it as Scott goes past. Hand off complete. The screaming
in my quads goes away after 5 minutes, and I can get up to full power again.
Settle into a fast cadence, and just ride. Sometimes, I can even see the
scenery as I ride through it. Sometimes.
Things change a little after dusk. We need lights, and our horizons shrink
almost completely. I could be riding anywhere. I get on the bike, and ride
hard. The only way I know if it's a climb or descent is by what gear I'm in.
Sometimes, the horizon is considerably expanded - when you see the lights of
another riders pace car up ahead, or the brilliant stars in a clear sky -
something never seen in Portland, or the lightning of an approaching storm.
Sometimes, all three at the same time.
On one pull - one of the rare level (well, slightly uphill) pulls, I am
interviewed by the race videographer. I was riding at about 21 at the time,
and still feeling strong. I have no idea what I may have said - I'm sure I
made no sense at all. So much for my future career in Hollywood!
OK. I do an 9:30pm pull (fast, since it's almost level), a 11:30 pull (Up
over the unnamed 5000ft summit, and a short but fun descent), a 1:30am pull,
and a 3:30am pull. They're all a blur. Just the road, my bike, me, and the
soft sounds of tires on road, the gentle whirr of the drive train, the click
of a gear change, and my breathing. My way is lit by the pace car lights.
Even the pace car disappears from my consciousness after a while.
I occasionally overtake a single rider. Scott does all the work to make time
up on them, I get the glory by over taking them.
5:30am. It's raining. My pull is about to start. What to wear? Clothing
choices were always difficult, and this one was more so. My pull looks to be
about 4 miles uphill, followed by an 8 mile descent. The uphill averages
from 4 - 8%, the downhill is 6%. The summit is at 4300 ft. I choose warm,
and cook for the 4 uphill miles. I'm OK for the downhill, which takes us to
Mitchell. I have to pedal for most of the descent - there is a strong head
wind. I can do about 35MPH on the descent, but with the headwind, rain is
hitting me at 50. Ouch. That hurt. Well, at least it is light. This is my
one big downhill for the whole ride. Laura gets to start the next climb.
There is an interminable succession of them.
We get to Prineville. There is civilization. I find myself a Latte. From
Prineville to the end of the ride, we have some nasty headwinds. I hate
headwinds. I'll take hills anytime. Headwinds suck the life out of your
soul. On one pull, I have cross winds, that are very gusty. The passing
trucks cause random drastic changes of direction to the wind. I'm on the
aerobars, swaying and wobbling down the road. People must think I'm drunk.
When going into the wind, I lay down on the aerobars, trying to make myself
as small as possible.
Rider changes continue to occur like clockwork. We are all tired, but still
functioning well. Perhaps we aren't as strong as we were the day before.
It's very difficult to get the heart rate up to lactate threshold now. There
is little stored energy in the muscles, and they have to work off what the
blood can get them. The lactic acid burn in the first five minutes of riding
is very real.
We pass through the Warm Springs Indian Reservations. It's hard to imagine
how, but the country side is even prettier here. We have some spectacular
climbs. We're not so good at taking photos anymore. The sun is out, the
colors and formations spectacular.
The last portion of the ride is upon us. It's all uphill from here. The
temperature is dropping, and it's starting to rain. As we get further up
towards timberline, the rain turns to snow. The past portion of the ride
(that I and lucky Laura get) is at over 10% grade. That's hard for tired
muscles. For the last half mile, all four of us ride. We're in herdware.
It's not a speedy finish, but we cross the line together. That's it. There's
all the power used up! We're welcomed by George & Terri, our wonderful
support crew, and out families.
Would I do this race again? In a second!
Richard
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<DIV><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff size=2><SPAN class=512523317-08062005>Two of
our riders have written their own versions of the event. If you have ever
considered attempting this ride, their perspective might interest
you.</SPAN></FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff size=2><SPAN
class=512523317-08062005></SPAN></FONT> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff size=2><SPAN
class=512523317-08062005>Susan</SPAN></FONT></DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Tahoma size=2><SPAN class=512523317-08062005>_____________From
Linda__________</SPAN></FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Tahoma size=2> </DIV>
<DIV><BR></DIV></FONT>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>Hey Gang,</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2></FONT> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>Like Richard said, I'm sure my report won't do
RAO justice, but I'll give it a shot. </FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2></FONT> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>Most of the weekend is still a blurr in my
mind. As I've slipped back into my normal routines, I'm
finding that I've changed, while life has gone on everywhere
else. It feels like I've been to the moon and back and don't quite fit in
anymore. I've heard this about rides like RAAM but didn't expect
to feel this way about RAO. This ride changes the people who ride it and
those who support it; in a good way, I think.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>I was surprised at how amazingly good I felt at the
finish. There certainly were times during the race when I felt really
bad and had doubts about my ability to finish. After you "hit the wall" it
seems that you can actually come out of it stronger. I'm sure that I
was holding something back during the race just because I really didn't
want to blow up and let my teammates down.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>This is, first and foremost, a team event; much
more so that Cycle Oregon, STP in one day or any other ride I've done.
That's precisely why I wanted to do it; I'm so glad that I did.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2></FONT> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>Enough philosophy, some significant moments for me
during the race:</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>-my 1st leg. I was the 4th rider in our
rotation and the last to get the willys out of my system, the waiting felt like
torture.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2></FONT> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>-climbing Bakeoven Rd. This climb scared all
of us; it's about 25 miles of steep, constant up, we'd practiced it during one
of our weekend training rides, which took some of the mystery away. It was
on this climb were Richard uttered his, now famous, phrase "You Poor Bastard"
while watching Scott tackling a big chunk of this hill. It quickly became
our team Mantra.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>I drew the lucky straw and got the 1st, steepest
part of the hill on Saturday afternoon. It was also the hottest part of
the day and both the RV and the follow car had stopped to gas up, so I was
literally climbing the hill all alone. Other than feeling like I might
explode at any moment from the heat and energy of the climb, I felt pretty good
and just kept spinning up the hill. At some point I began to wonder when
the support vehicles would show up and just how far up I'd need to climb before
they could put Scott out to relieve me. Just when it felt
like they would never show up, here comes the RV blaring it's horn with Susan
and crew hanging out the windows cheering me on. It felt wonderful;
like the cavalry had finally arrived. As soon as I got off the bike, Susan
put an ice cold bottle of water in my hand! It felt like heaven. Did
I say what an amazing crew chief she is?</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2></FONT> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>-Race Across Aruba. Laura and I were relaxing
on the bed in the back of the RV, laying in the sun and feeling pretty good
still. I came up with the idea that while we should definitely do this
again next year, we should really pick a much better location with fewer
hills, shorter distances and margarita breaks every 3-4 miles. Laura
and I both thought this was hysterically funny, which tells you alot about
what exercise induced sleep deprivation can do to your brain.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2> </FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>-Sometime near midnight Saturday night. This
was where I hit the wall. I hadn't gotten any real sleep yet, was
dealing with intestinal issues and severe leg cramps. I had a sweet piece
of road to ride on during this leg, but all I remember is how bad I
felt during the ride. I got back into the RV, Susan fixed me
some hot soup, I downed a recovery drink, gatorade, a salt pill and
some raisins and crashed in the back of the RV. Amazingly, I
slept well. I woke up 15 minutes before my next pull, got ready to
ride and felt like a new woman on the bike. I was able to catch a few
ZZ's between each of the rest of my pulls, which helped me stave off the worst
effects of the sleep deprivation we were
all experiencing.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2> </FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>-Sunday morning, not sure where we are. The
rain showers that hit us during the early morning hours had stopped and the wind
had started to pick up. I had a flat/rolling hills section to ride and I
was down on my aerobars the entire time. I felt strong and rode
fast. About midpoint during my leg I saw George Thomas, the ride
organizer, riding his bike along the course and cheering me
along. George is an amazing person, as I would come to
learn. He literally puts his heart and soul into this event and it
really shows.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2></FONT> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>-The scary bit. We were coming out of Warm
Springs after fighting headwinds, cross winds, gusting winds from
every direction for miles; I was looking forward to riding a nice
descent followed by one of the few flat sections in the course. Laura came
screaming down the hill and I took over from her. Immediately, I was up to
35mph and my bike started shimmying dangerously. I got the bike stopped
and looked down to find that my front brake lever was still in the UP
position. This really scared the **@#** out of me. I yelled back to
Jeff in the follow car what had happened, fixed my brake and got back on the
road. The bike immediately began to shimmy again so I slowed it to a
stop. Jeff asked me if I wanted to ride another bike or put Scott out on
the descent. I thought about it for all of 2 seconds and said "put Scott
out, I'll take his pull". </FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>I knew I couldn't ride safely at that point and I
didn't want to have an accident within hours of reaching the finish line.
When I took over from Scott, the winds had started to die down and we'd started
climbing up towards Mt. Hood. I felt under control on my bike, once
again.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>Although this could have had a nasty end, I felt
this was an excellent example of teamwork in action.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2></FONT> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>-The finish. We'd decided ahead of time to
change our ride strategy once we reached the base of Timberline Rd and put a new
rider out every 1 mile. This worked well for the riders but created
complicated logistical challenges for our crew. Even though they were all
dead on their feet at this point in the ride, our amazing crew executed the
exchanges flawlessly. All of four of us rode the last .6 mile up to the
summit together. I couldn't have felt prouder seeing our crew all standing
up there at the Timberline summit cheering us across the finish line.
Massive hugs were exchanged all around and several pictures taken. A
few minutes later, my family arrived to add to the celebration.
</FONT></DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>-2 Days later. I'm still feeling
sleep deprived and pleasantly fatigued. My bags are all unpacked and the
laundry's done. My bike still needs a good cleaning but otherwise
life has returned to normal. But it's really not normal at all. I
feel as if I have accomplished something I never thought possible with the
support of 3 incredible teammates and 5 awesome support crew who will forever
more be my lifelong friends. </FONT></DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>Thank you TBBRAO. You guys
rock!</FONT></DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>Linda</FONT> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff size=2></FONT> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff size=2></FONT> </DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=512523317-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff
size=2>______________ From Richard ____________</FONT></SPAN></DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=512523317-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff
size=2></FONT></SPAN> </DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=512523317-08062005>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff size=2>Well,
I won't be able to do the subject the justice that Susan did, but here's my
piece, as far as I can remember.</FONT></SPAN></DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff
size=2></FONT></SPAN> </DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff size=2>I too
had trouble sleeping, although I managed to sleep until 4am. This, of course,
was not the time to be short on sleep. Our preparation the day before had been
quite frenzied, between getting the alternative pace car set up, to vexing
problems with our rented radio communications. </FONT></SPAN></DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff
size=2></FONT></SPAN> </DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff
size=2>Saturday morning dawned, and Linda and Steve gave me a lift to the start
line, via Kens Artisan Bakery. Got some nice fresh bread there. Arrived at the
start, loaded the remainder of our gear, and stood around chatting. Scott pushed
off with the rest of the four person team starters at 9am. We cheered. Michael
took off his shirt. Did that photo come out Scott?</FONT></SPAN></DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff
size=2></FONT></SPAN> </DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff size=2>We all
piled into the RV, and headed out to the first exchange point. We knew it would
take a while for Scott to get there - the first 10 miles were neutral, and
likely to be somewhat slow. Scott shows up, mixed with the Headhunter rider, and
one other. I take over. I ignore my pre race planning, and go a little too hard.
The exchanged headhunter rider sprints off the line, but I catch him on a
moderate hill. I discover that he is faster than me on the level, and I can
easily catch him on hills. Unfortunately, I miss two lights, and lose about 90
seconds. The rest of the trip up to Hw 35 is sweet - working hard, enjoying the
scenery - perfect temperature. We do a few more hand offs. I get a nice short
descent after Government camp - up to 43MPH. Little did I know that I wouldn't
get too many more of them.</FONT></SPAN></DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff
size=2></FONT></SPAN> </DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff size=2>From
there, it just seemed to be mostly up hill for me. I remember a portion of road
between Dufer and Tygh Valley, where there was a significant grade that too me
down to 8MPH, then a gentle uphill that saw me at almost 20MPH. Had a bit of a
tailwind there. </FONT></SPAN></DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff
size=2></FONT></SPAN> </DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff size=2>Rider
changes went smoothly - it was always a relief to see the next rider (always
Laura) waiting for me up ahead. Hey Laura, you can have this &*^^%$ hill.
Still, I don't mind hills.</FONT></SPAN></DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff
size=2></FONT></SPAN> </DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff size=2>The
rest of the day was not unlike our training rides. You get into a rhythm. Ride
at about lactate threshold (on Saturday, anyway), get off the bike, swill down
some recovery juice, plus some water, sit down, and get the HR down. After the
HR is down, look for something a little solid (I love Salami). Look at some of
the beautiful scenery. Check the map. Welcome Laura and Linda back in the RV
after they finish their pulls. Laura and Linda are very strong riders. We
are in the hands of our support crew. Opps. Scott has now been riding for 15
minutes, and I'm on in 15 minutes. Chug down some Gu. Get the gear back on. The
RV stops at a pull out, and we pile out. Jay (or Kyle, or Susan) gets the bike
set up. I go find a green room. I must be hydrating well - judging by the
frequency at which I have to find a green room. Get out into the road, and look
over my shoulder. OK. I see Scott powering up the hill. There are only uphills
on this ride. I clip in, get my balance, then hammer it as Scott goes past. Hand
off complete. The screaming in my quads goes away after 5 minutes, and I can get
up to full power again. Settle into a fast cadence, and just ride. Sometimes, I
can even see the scenery as I ride through it. Sometimes.</FONT></SPAN></DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff
size=2></FONT></SPAN> </DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff size=2>Things
change a little after dusk. We need lights, and our horizons shrink almost
completely. I could be riding anywhere. I get on the bike, and ride hard. The
only way I know if it's a climb or descent is by what gear I'm in. Sometimes,
the horizon is considerably expanded - when you see the lights of another riders
pace car up ahead, or the brilliant stars in a clear sky - something never seen
in Portland, or the lightning of an approaching storm. Sometimes, all three at
the same time. </FONT></SPAN></DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff
size=2></FONT></SPAN> </DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff size=2>On one
pull - one of the rare level (well, slightly uphill) pulls, I am interviewed by
the race videographer. I was riding at about 21 at the time, and still feeling
strong. I have no idea what I may have said - I'm sure I made no sense at all.
So much for my future career in Hollywood!</FONT></SPAN></DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff
size=2></FONT></SPAN> </DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff size=2>OK. I
do an 9:30pm pull (fast, since it's almost level), a 11:30 pull (Up over the
unnamed 5000ft summit, and a short but fun descent), a 1:30am pull, and a 3:30am
pull. They're all a blur. Just the road, my bike, me, and the soft sounds of
tires on road, the gentle whirr of the drive train, the click of a gear change,
and my breathing. My way is lit by the pace car lights. Even the pace car
disappears from my consciousness after a while. </FONT></SPAN></DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff
size=2></FONT></SPAN> </DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff size=2>I
occasionally overtake a single rider. Scott does all the work to make time up on
them, I get the glory by over taking them.</FONT></SPAN></DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff
size=2></FONT></SPAN> </DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff
size=2>5:30am. It's raining. My pull is about to start. What to wear? Clothing
choices were always difficult, and this one was more so. My pull looks to be
about 4 miles uphill, followed by an 8 mile descent. The uphill averages from 4
- 8%, the downhill is 6%. The summit is at 4300 ft. I choose warm, and cook for
the 4 uphill miles. I'm OK for the downhill, which takes us to Mitchell. I have
to pedal for most of the descent - there is a strong head wind. I can do
about 35MPH on the descent, but with the headwind, rain is hitting me at 50.
Ouch. That hurt. Well, at least it is light. This is my one big downhill for the
whole ride. Laura gets to start the next climb. There is an interminable
succession of them.</FONT></SPAN></DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff
size=2></FONT></SPAN> </DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff size=2>We get
to Prineville. There is civilization. I find myself a Latte. From Prineville to
the end of the ride, we have some nasty headwinds. I hate headwinds. I'll take
hills anytime. Headwinds suck the life out of your soul. On one pull, I have
cross winds, that are very gusty. The passing trucks cause random drastic
changes of direction to the wind. I'm on the aerobars, swaying and wobbling down
the road. People must think I'm drunk. When going into the wind, I lay down on
the aerobars, trying to make myself as small as possible. </FONT></SPAN></DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff
size=2></FONT></SPAN> </DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff size=2>Rider
changes continue to occur like clockwork. We are all tired, but still
functioning well. Perhaps we aren't as strong as we were the day before. It's
very difficult to get the heart rate up to lactate threshold now. There is
little stored energy in the muscles, and they have to work off what the blood
can get them. The lactic acid burn in the first five minutes of riding is very
real. </FONT></SPAN></DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff
size=2></FONT></SPAN> </DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff size=2>We
pass through the Warm Springs Indian Reservations. It's hard to imagine how, but
the country side is even prettier here. We have some spectacular climbs. We're
not so good at taking photos anymore. The sun is out, the colors and formations
spectacular. </FONT></SPAN></DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff
size=2></FONT></SPAN> </DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff size=2>The
last portion of the ride is upon us. It's all uphill from here. The temperature
is dropping, and it's starting to rain. As we get further up towards timberline,
the rain turns to snow. The past portion of the ride (that I and lucky Laura
get) is at over 10% grade. That's hard for tired muscles. For the last half
mile, all four of us ride. We're in herdware. It's not a speedy finish, but we
cross the line together. That's it. There's all the power used up! We're
welcomed by George & Terri, our wonderful support crew, and out families.
</FONT></SPAN></DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff
size=2></FONT></SPAN> </DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial><FONT color=#0000ff><FONT
size=2>Would I do this race again? In a second!<SPAN
class=512523317-08062005> </SPAN></FONT></FONT></FONT></SPAN></DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial><FONT color=#0000ff><FONT
size=2><SPAN
class=512523317-08062005></SPAN></FONT></FONT></FONT></SPAN> </DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial><FONT color=#0000ff><FONT
size=2><SPAN
class=512523317-08062005>Richard </SPAN></FONT></FONT></FONT></SPAN></DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=852015103-08062005><FONT face=Arial color=#0000ff
size=2></FONT></SPAN> </DIV></SPAN></DIV><!-- |**|begin egp html banner|**| --></BODY></HTML>
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