I don’t think I have an unreasonable number of phobias; but, I do admit I have some fears. One of my major fears crept into my mind each day of last week. Some of my Facebook buddies shared that they too have the same fear. Before I get ahead of myself, let me begin at the beginning.
I spent all of last week riding my bike in a big loop around southern Colorado with the Bicycle Tour of Colorado. You can find the profiles for all days and ride descriptions at the previous hot link.
Every summer I try to do some type of week-long bicycle tour with friends. There are plenty of reasons to do a bike tour and a few include:
- Time away from the office to decompress
- Time spent riding with friends
- A big boost in fitness post-tour
- In small mountain towns and cabins, there is often no cell phone or internet access (resulting in quality time spent with real living and breathing humans and new ideas begin sprouting everywhere)
- The list goes on and on…
Day 1 was tough this year, with over 100 miles, the toughest climb of the tour and near constant headwinds. The theme of the tour this year was wind. On the upside, this is the first bike tour I’ve done without getting drenched during at least one day.
After getting up Slumgullion Pass and then Spring Creek, we descended to an aid station where the photo below was taken:
(Left to right: Bruce Runnels, Ryan Lewandowski, Bill Frielingsdorf, Ron Kennedy, Scott Ellis, me, Todd Singiser)
One of the best parts of the tour is riding with people that I can trust and we ride well together. (“Together” … sometimes I’m hanging on the back by a thread (or not at all), but I digress…) All of these guys are regulars at the Sunday group rides that roll from my driveway. Yes, I’m a lucky dog.
Going up Slumgullion I was a suffering dog. I mentioned in a previous blog that I did an end-o on the mountain bike a couple of weeks ago and my ribs were still not happy. I couldn’t stand for three pedal strokes without stabbing pain in my ribcage. The ride started so nicely, but the climb was tough. A song popped into my head…
When it's good, then it's good, it's so good, 'till it goes bad
Till you're trying to find the you that you once had
P!nk – “Sober”
I found it interesting that songs would pop into my head all week. Bruce suggested I include this tidbit in my blog, so I am.
The last couple of hours of Day 1 was relentless head wind with gusts. More suffering.
Well, everybody hurts sometimes,
Everybody cries. And everybody hurts sometimes.
And everybody hurts sometimes. So, hold on, hold on.
Hold on, hold on. Hold on, hold on. Hold on, hold on.
REM – “Everybody Hurts”
At the last aid station I was reminded of one of my phobias – dropping something into a port-a-potty. Sunglasses, my phone, gloves, etc…
Each day I would be phobic at least once.
Day 1 in the bag:
Ride time 6:35, 102.7 miles from our hotel, 15.6 mph avg, “out time” 8:16, 7742 ft. of climbing