Bike Life
During the years that cycling was at the center of my life, I enjoyed signing up for charity events all over the southeast. For somewhere around $50 I could register for an event that would provide a marked course of 100K or 100 miles with several rest stops along the way, stocked with Gatorade and carbohydrate rich snacks to fuel all the spandex clad riders coming through. Oh, and portable toilets were also provided, which was always helpful. Usually, the organizers would also provide a souvenir shirt to commemorate the event. I've got a closet full of them.
The size of the events varied. If the ride was new and didn't have any kind of history, there might be only 30 or 40 participants. On the other hand, established events, like the rides for multiple sclerosis would stretch over an entire weekend, providing camping, meals, showers and two rides of 100 miles (160.93 km) each. There would be well over 1000 participants, all of whom raised money and paid an entry fee to participate. In North Carolina, the rides start and end in the eastern city of New Bern, in an area that's blessed with smooth, flat roads that don't have a lot of traffic. Typically, if we had to cross any really busy highways, the sheriff's department would station a car there for safety.
One of my favorite was the annual Mountains to the Sea event, known as Cycle North Carolina. Sponsored by the state tourism board, it draws people from all over the US and abroad for seven consecutive days of cycling across the widest state east of the Mississippi River. A normal day's mileage is somewhere around 70 miles (ca. 113 km). Most people bring a tent that is ferried from one town to the next by the event organizers along with their luggage. All the riders have to do each day is eat like their lives depend on it and ride their bikes. Each host town along the way goes all out to make the riders welcome. There are always some unique folks making the journey. One year I rode with a man who rode in business clothes and had heavy racks made from lumber attached to his bike. Since I don't live close to the mountains, the days we spent there were always challenging as we pedaled along the Blue Ridge Parkway with much larger elevation gains and losses than I was used to.
North Carolina has 100 counties, and my goal was to ride my bike in every one of them. Before physical ailments curtailed my riding, I'd managed to pedal at least a few miles in 78 of them. Even today, I find myself miles and miles from home, recognizing spots I cycled by in the past. A few places are really memorable, either because of the difficulty or the scenery or both. There is a climb in western South Carolina up the Greenville water shed that is more than five miles uphill. It looks very imposing when you see it on the day's elevation profile, but it proved to be a pleasant experience, something to feel good about at the end of the day.
That was one of the real joys of riding to me. It wasn't just the endorphin rush from the physical exertion or the scenery or the camaraderie, although all of those things were wonderful, What I loved was the sense of accomplishment achieved by voluntarily doing something difficult. The discomfort from too many miles on a narrow little bike saddle, the hills that make it feel like someone is sticking daggers in your thighs, the miles, and miles in the rain, far from home have faded into the background and what remains are the memories of the joy I felt so many times when mile 100 came earlier than I ever thought it could. I never had the kind of hand/eye coordination needed to be good at sports involving any kind of ball, but when it came to endurance, that I could do.
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