Part III: RAGBRAI Ride Across Iowa - Heat, Hills and More

Continued..

Day 5: Marshalltown to Cedar Rapids (84 miles)

I didn't set an alarm clock on day 5 - my plan was to 'sleep in' (i.e. get up at 7.30 am), make it to the first town 10 miles away, have a spot of breakfast, and then get picked up by the SAG vehicle to reach the next overnight town.

Checking my phone, I had a text from Rachel, who said her personal trainer highly recommended vaseline as a fix to all my posterior problems.  Well, I thought.  I highly doubted it would work, but there was nothing to be lost, and I did happen to have some, so I slathered myself with an ample amount 'down there', and set off, the last one from our group to leave the campsite.

Delicious watermelon snack

And it worked!  Like a miracle, the pain virtually disappeared, and I was comfortably able to make it to the first town, where I had a celebratory breakfast of chocolate milk, pancakes, coffee, a yoghurt, and an oatmeal bar.  Bouyed by the fact I wasn't in pain, I felt a resurgence of energy and knew I'd be able to make it to the end.

Town reception Committee

Even though the day was still hot, it was about 10 degrees cooler than the day before, plus there was a nice tailwind, gently pushing everyone to Cedar Rapids.  I was able to relax, and enjoy passing through the various towns, enjoying their hospitality, and stuffing my face with all kinds of foods and drinks - smoothies, watermelon slices, sandwiches, energy bars, gatorade, etc etc.  I think this was the most I've ever eaten in a single week.

Family ride

I got to Cedar Rapids by 4.00 pm and had the usual routine of relaxing the Pamper Zone for a bit, chatting with other riders, having a shower, and then going to find some more food - on this day, another church next door to the campsite (riders got there by riding in a trailer pulled by a tractor) was doing a great value 3 course meal for just $10.  After this, more socialising with other riders, before heading for bed around 10.

Reappearance of the Bananaman

Day 6: Cedar Rapids to Anamosa (42 miles)

This was the shortest ride of the day, and after consecutive 70 + mile days, it felt like a piece of cake!  I met up with someone from Denver who I met over the phone at work; we'd both found out that we were both doing RAGBRAI, and agreed to meet up and ride together.

Bananaman disciples

I stopped off in the rest town Mount Vernon and had a delicious breakfast of potatoes and eggs, grated cheese and sour cream, and also saw the Bananaman coming through again. This time he'd seemed to have picked up several Bananaman disciples.

Iowan cats

In the evening, I headed into the small town of Anamosa to forage for some food, and came across a Cat Rescue Centre just around the corner of campsite.  They were doing an amazing Mexican meal of beans, rice and burritos for a 'what you can pay' donation to the Centre.  As a cat lover, I was happy to eat there and support the cause (in their back garden), and got taken inside to meet some of the occupants.  Even the cats in Iowa are really friendly!

Day 7: Anamosa to Cedar Rapids (69 miles)

Puddles the Skunk

Saturday was the coolest day yet, and I took my time, enjoying the last day of cycling, stopping off at all the towns, looking for my favourite smoothie bar, and chatting with other riders.   One local lady supporting the riders along the road had her pet...skunk.  I stopped to take a picture of her with Puddles, who was very sweet.  Her scent glands had been removed, and I was told she was also toilet trained.

Suzy - note her cycle helmet!

I also met an amazing lady from Chicago who must have been in her late 60's/early 70's and was cycling along with Suzy the dog on the back, under a rainbrow umbrella to protect her from the heat, at a very slow and steady pace.  The deal was:  you could take a photo of rider plus Suzy, but in return, at the top of the hill, you'd be asked to make a donation to the dog shelter the rider was raising money for.  This seemed like a great deal, and after making my donation we chatted for a bit before all three of us were on our way.

I finally made it into Clinton, where I'd arrived 7 days earlier, around mid-afternoon.  It was quite a feeling of accomplishment riding down into the last town after 471 miles, especially as there were some points in the week where I wasn't even sure if I'd make it.

The last part of the ride is to symbolically dip your tyres in the Mississippi river, to mark the fact that you've come all the way to the Eastern side of the State (Iowa is bordered my the Missouri river on the West and Mississippi on the East).

After dropping off my bike to be shipped back, I headed back to the casino where we'd pick up our bags.  We'd been advised to hitch a ride with other bikers heading out of town, and I ended up finding a ride with a one-armed cyclist who'd just finished the whole week's ride.  It was interesting swapping notes about how having a different limb missing can throw up unique challenges.

Made it!

The last (unwanted) excitement of the day came when I found there was no public transportation and NO TAXIS whatsoever in Clinton, which to me is completely ludicrous.  It basically means that if you don't have a car, and want to get to the airport, you're scuppered.  I understand some American towns don't have great public transportation (which is why I feel lucky to live in NYC), but to get rid of taxis on top of it seems like complete madness.  Luckily, Bubba, who owned the charter service provider I went with, had by chance seen me wandering along on the side of a busy road, walking to a hotel to see if they could help, and amazingly, he offered to drive me all the way to the airport, over an hour's drive away.  This act of kindness trumped anything over the past week, but also reflected the incredible spirit of goodwill and generosity that I'd felt from both riders and Iowans throughout the ride.

I ended up at the airport by 11.00 pm, and slept there for 5 hours before getting a plane back to New York.  In all, RAGBRAI was an amazing experience, and, as with all endurance events, the sore and uncomfortable bits will probably recede in my memory, as I'll see everything through an increasingly soft and fuzzy lens.  Despite the heat and saddle soreness, I had a fantastic time, seeing some beautiful countryside, testing my biking limits, and most importantly meeting some amazingly warm and friendly people.  These are the main things I will remember from my ride.

Part II: RAGBRAI Ride Across Iowa - Heat, Hills and More

Continued...

Day 2: Cherokee to Lakeview (62 miles)

I had a fairly early start, around 7.00 am.  The organizers were being nice by slowly cranking up the distances every day.  The route started to take us due south, and into a bit of a headwind, but otherwise it was a nice day's cycling, not too hilly, and I made good progress, stopping at most of the towns for just a quick snack.  I also made sure I rode under every hose and sprinkler I could find as the temperatures rose.  By around mid-day, when I rode through the last town, it was getting really hot - the temperature coming off the pavement was around 110 deg F.

Iowan sunrise

When I got to the campsite, it was scorchingly hot, and, unlike the first night, there was no tree cover.  The first thing I did was jump into a nearby lake to cool off.  I stayed in there for about 45 minutes, trying to find the colder currents, feeling really good about finishing the cycling early and still feeling fresh.  After this, I came back to the group's rest area (a.k.a 'pamper zone' - area shaded with canvas, camping chairs, cold drinks, snacks), and sat down for a bit, planning on waiting out the heat before going into town to get some dinner.  This was one of the hardest things about the ride - there was no escaping the heat.  It would have been much easier if I'd been able to go into a nice air-conditioned hotel room to properly cool off.

And this is where my scariest moment of the week occurred.  I had a nap, but when I woke up, I felt dizzy and thought I was going to pass out.  Even in the shade, it was probably still in the 90's, with no breeze.   I got up, walked behind a truck for more shade, and wondered if I should ask someone to call for an ambulance.  Some people had found a hose and were having showers with it, so I borrowed that to cool off.  Then I decided to cycle into town and find somewhere to cool down.

When I went into the town's supermarket, it was still stiflingly hot and humid; all the cyclists were talking about how hard the heat was, and some were talking of bailing the next day.  I began to get spooked and wondered if I would make it, as there were another 2 days of really bad heat to go before things started to cool off.  When I signed up for this ride, the idea wasn't to suffer, it was to have an enjoyable week touring around, so I began to question if I even wanted to finish it.  

Then I found the small public library of the town, and it was CRAMMED full of cyclists, everywhere, sitting on at the tables, sitting, lying on the floor, sleeping..it conjured up images of how public buildings would be used to house people in the event of a nuclear fall-out or some kind of terrible natural disaster.  I napped again in the library, and stayed there until closing, at 8.00 pm. 

After, I bought a couple of slices of pizza, then came back to the campsite.  I spoke to Rachel and told her about my doubts about finishing the ride.  She told me I'd be disappointed if I didn't finish it, which I knew in the back of my head, so I decided to take it one day at a time, give it a go the next day, and take it from there.

Day 3: Lakeview to Webster City (81 miles)

I had my earliest start yet, around 4.30 am, and started riding in complete darkness, but with hundreds of other cyclists hoping to beat the worst of the heat, by 5.00 am.

The first couple of hours of cycling in the day throughout the week were definitely the best.  You could cycle through the cool morning air and watch a beautiful sunrise over the fields.  Even though I knew I had another tough day's cycling ahead, I did my best to savour these moments.

6.00 am breakfast stop.

I also tried to feed off the amazingly fun and positive spirit of the other riders.  During the week, I saw the most incredible array of bikes imaginable.  Road bikes, mountain bikes, touring bikes, tandems, you name it.  On the Tuesday morning, I couldn't quite believe it when I saw a man dressed as a banana, cycling along in a recumbant..banana.  Later on that morning, I saw a unicyclist, who I noticed also had a unicycle tattoo.  That's pretty hardcore.  Today was an 80 mile day, with an optional 20 miles to make it a century (which I decided after about .01 seconds of careful consideration I wasn't going to do), but he was doing all 100 - which he said would probably take him about 10 hours in total.   

Man peddling in a banana

By afternoon the ride was getting quite hard; we were riding on an exposed ridge, with a headwind of what I found out later was gusting up to 20 mph.  The advantage of riding with hundreds of other people is that there are opportunities for drafting, which is what I did, but, for the times when I was riding by myself, the riding was draining.    Whatsmore, I was starting to get saddle sore, and was realising that my tri bike wasn't made to be a touring bike.  The saddle may have been made for speed, but I was finding out the hard way that it wasn't made for comfort.

By the time I got to the host town, Webster City, I was pretty toasted.  I spent the rest of the afternoon sheltering from the heat in the cool and quirky Webster City museum.  It was over 100 degrees again and humid; sweltering hot.  Then, staying in the shade where possible, I found a church with some fellow riders that was doing a huge pasta dinner for $10, did some laundry, and then came back to the site.  By 10.00 pm I was ready to crash.

Day 4:  Webster City to Marshalltown (77 miles)

This was the day when the saddle soreness started to catch up with me.  Right from the moment of getting on the bike first thing in the morning, my backside was really painful; it felt like it had been attacked with a potato peeler, and the saddle dipped in vinegar.    I even tried stuffing a t-shirt down my cycling shorts for extra padding, but nothing seemed to help.  

The day was definitely a big mental challenge.  I started to break the distance down, just focusing on getting up to 10 miles, then 25 - nearly a third of the way through, 38 - half way, etc, all the time.  I do this during marathons and the mental games playing tricks on your body really helps.  I was also encouraged by other riders.   At one stage in the morning, the pain from my posterior was getting so bad I thought I'd have to stop, when just at that moment, I passed a dad with two young sons, who shouted out loudly:  "now there's a real man - cycling with one leg".   Bouyed up, I pushed on - no chance that I was going to stop in front of them.

Throughout the ride, people were only complementary about my leg.  I started out maybe a little self-concious, but found I had no need to be.   However, some would have been even more impressed if I was an army veteran, as illustrated by the conversation I had with one elderly rider:

Medicine Man Injury of the day: Tendonitis (didn't try him).

"How did you lose your leg?  Armed forces?"  Me:  "No, from birth..".  Rider (look of disappointment coming over his face):  "Oh...I thought you were one of our brave heroes.."  In the most anticlimactic way a conversation could end, he then mumbled something about how it was great what I was doing anyway, and thats where our chat petered out.

By the end of the day, my backside was in excruciating pain, and I thought I'd ridden my last day.  There was no way I could carry on being that sore.  I have an additional disadvantage in that I'm not able to stand up on my bike, to relieve the pain.  Still, I thought, I'd given it a good effort, so, with my spirits relatively high, I went into town with a new friend I'd met on the ride, Rob, had a Chinese meal, and went back to campsite for another early night.  My plan for the next day though was to get up late, ride to the first town, and then pick up the support vehicle to take me to the next overnight town. 


To be Continued..

Part I: RAGBRAI Ride Across Iowa - Heat, Hills and More

At the end of July, I took part in a 471 mile organized ride across the state of Iowa, RAGBRAI (Register's Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa, run by the Des Moines Register newspaper), with about 10,000 other cyclists.  The things I enjoyed about the ride were: the beautiful scenery, meeting so many friendly riders and Iowans in the towns we passed through, and the achievement of cycling so many miles in one week.  Things I did not enjoy about the ride were:  the heat, having to get up at 5 O'Clock in the morning to beat the heat, and excruciating saddle soreness in the middle part of the ride.

It might have been partly inspired by the bleak photo on the front of Bruce Springsteen's Nebraska album when I was 15, but for a long time I'd wanted to cycle across a Mid-Western State.   When I was a teenager and young adult, I had a fascination with the States; not just the East Coast cities like New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and California and the West coast, but I also wanted to see the heartland of the States.  Go right off the beaten track and see and experience the real America.  Cycling seemed like a great idea, as I'd be able to savour the endless cornfields and open roads as I crossed the state, I imagined on my own.

The bike that took me across Iowa

When I started to do research, I initially started with Nebraska, but then reading cyclist's message boards, found there was a ride, but at a minimum pace I would have found too fast.  Then I found out about RAGBRAI, which advertises itself to be "the oldest, largest and longest bicycle touring event in the world".  It is completely non-competitive, open to people of all ages, shapes and sizes, and is just geared towards enjoying the Iowan countryside and hospitality of their towns.  I instantly signed up.

To get to the start of the ride, I'd flown into Clinton, on the Eastern border of Iowa, and then met up with the charter service I took, Bubba's Pampered Pedallers, run by Bubba, a retired policeman from St Louis, about 6'5" and built like a brick you-know-what.   The event was all about camping, and the service would provide, put up, and take down my tent, and then ship it with all my stuff to the next overnight town.   We took a coach to Sioux Center on the NW border of the State. It was 8 hours of travelling, a long time, and we had to cycle back in the opposite direction, which made me realize what I'd got myself in for!  After arriving and picking up my bike, which I'd had shipped, I got some food, enjoyed some fireworks the town had laid on, and then went to bed early, about 10.00 pm, excited to start my ride the next day.

Day 1:  Sioux Center to Cherokee (54 miles)

Cyclists going up the first hill, Day 1

I got up at about 6 and was on the road by 7.  It was a beautiful sunny morning, and it was a great feeling cycling amongst thousands of other cyclists.  After about 10 miles, I stopped off for a spot of breakfast and coffee.  My carbon fibre cycling leg attracted quite a bit of attention from the other cyclists.  Some of them would cruise past and tell me the leg looked great, and others would pull alongside to have a chat, ask me how I lost my leg (I didn't), what the leg was made of, whether I pushed with it (I don't), etc etc.  I met a lot of cool people this way.  I also heard there was one lady cycling the whole thing with one leg and no prosthetic.  That sounds really hard to me, just for balance issues.  I was hoping to meet her on one of the days, but never did.

Iowa for Green Energy!

I got to the campsite around noon, and still felt quite fresh.  I took a nap in the tent, but woke up with a prickling sensation all over my skin.  I thought it was ants, but it was because I was sweating so much.   Then I went into the town centre, tried to find a restaurant for some pasta, couldn't, and ended up at Subway.  I milled around the town for a bit longer, because it was hot, trying to stay in the shade, listened to a live band they'd put on, and for dessert had home-made apple pie and ice-cream from one of the food vendors that had set up (delicious).  After this I headed back to the campsite and got to bed early, because I knew the next day was going to be HOT so I wanted an early start.

To be Continued..

Amputee Football/ NYC Ironman

The great thing about living in New York is that there's always so much going on.  No excuse to ever be bored; you never know what new experience waits just round the corner.   Apart from all the music, restaurants, museums and meeting people from all around the world, something I appreciate is the opportunity to develop new interests in the world of sport, to be inspired by superior athletes, test out where my boundaries really are, finding out what I'm good at, and not so good at.

Sat, Aug 10th, 2012.  In the morning, I went to a local sports club where members of the US National Soccer team had come to meet physiotherapists and members of the Rusk Hospital amputee support group, to tell us about the benefits of getting involved in this sport.   I consider myself 'lucky' to have been without two fully formed legs from birth, but for anyone else who has lost a limb, the worst thing you can do is stay at home and do nothing.  To fight off depression, improve confidence and self-esteem, the best thing you can do is pick a sport, be engaged, get in shape, and work up a good sweat.

After being told us how amputee soccer started in the States, and a few drills, we were told we'd have a little 5 a-side game.  The teams would be: amputees, all playing on crutches, without prosthetics,    versus the bipods, who had to take a shoe off and were not allowed to kick the ball with the shoeless foot.  Amputees are not allowed to touch the ball with their crutches - that is a 'handball'.

Amputee football - much harder than it looks.

Football has always been my number one game, and I loved playing it at school.  Even though I couldn't run, I loved taking part.  My friends would often let me play as goalkeeper, even though I couldn't dive to my left and did leak quite a few goals in over the years.  But I always enjoyed it, and wondered how good I would have been if I'd have been born with two legs.

So when we started our game, I was excited to show off my silky skills and prove what I could do on the football pitch.  Were they about to unearth amputee football's version of a Maradona, Pele, or Beckham, even at the admittedly very late age of 38?

I quickly found out that the game is MUCH harder than it looks.  After chasing around after the ball for 10 minutes or so on crutches, my heart was thumping fast, and I was starting to sweat profusely in the muggy August morning sun.    With the sweat, I also started to lose my grip on the crutches which made it much harder to get around.  Even though I did once manage to put the ball in the old onion bag, I then decided to take it a bit easier to stay back in the defence for a bit, and was happy to sit out the last 10 minutes.

We had pizza and coke after the game, and I was offered to go down and meet and play with other members of the US team, who practice in New Jersey.  So we'll see how this develops.

In the afternoon, I had the opportunity to volunteer for New York City's first ironman event.  I was with members of a local tri-club, Asphalt Green, and my friends Nina and Rich, as we were positioned around mile 20 of the run, handing out bananas, water, ice, grapes, crisps, cookies, coke, gu's etc.  One thing a lot of them asked for: chicken broth.  I've always considered an ironman to be realistically beyond me, so it was amazing to see all the athletes come past, of all different shapes, sizes, and ages.  They were at the end of a tough course.  After a 2.4 mile swim in the Hudson, they had a hilly 112 bike ride in New Jersey, followed by a marathon, with afternoon temps in the low 80's.

After volunteering, I went to find Rachel and friends Miranda and Carol, to see the rest of the competitors come through Riverside park on the West side of Manhattan.  I missed my friend Melissa, but saw two blind athletes from Achilles, Jack Chen and Joe Bellantoni.    We finally left the course around 11.00 pm, and after a late meal on the UWS came home and crashed into bed.   Just another action packed day in NYC.