The Assault on Mount Mitchell Director's familiar voice announced that the countdown clock on the marquee would start at 6:27 AM. A local pastor prayed in Jesus’ name. Amen. The motorcycles started and so did all 1500 of us. So much for the 3-minute countdown. We’ve started.
From three rows back I knew that I needed to move up and keep moving up so that I didn’t get pushed off the road when we squeezed down to one lane on Parris Bridge. Whew, that wasn’t so bad, now just hang in, move up as necessary and don’t do anything stupid. Pulse is now 170, chest is a little tight, but that plastic bag under my jersey is doing the trick. We speed up to 28-29, and then slow down to 25, left off of Parris Bridge road and we string out. Then right, onto the fast section. This part has been painful in the past. I’ll know how we’re going to pace it after this section. Not so bad, they actually sit up and slow down to 24 or so. Next is the downhill before the little bridge and the left hand turn. I announce what is coming so the riders around me won’t panic. They take my advice and focus. Whew, cleaned that one, now up the hill, right turn and down again, Pulse is 178 now, chest is tight, and legs are stinging. I wonder if they are going to sit up again. Thanks! Now, time to recover before the next hill. 46 mph, no traffic and the road is clear. We spread out a little bit and safely cross the bridge, dodge the water bottles that didn’t make it and drop it into the small chain ring to prepare for the climb for the next ¾ mile. There’s the compression, watch for guys dropping chains and running into the back of each other. Wow, Still no crash. We’re actually riding like a bunch of experienced cyclists! Finally I can relax, the next 25 miles are fairly flat and scenic. I start to look around, There’s Alan, Paul, Mike, Susan, Phil and Ian. We exchange pleasantries. They all have black numbers indicating they are going all the way. George H. pulls off. The pack sits up. George blasts back by like nothing ever happened or is going to happen. We settle down, people start talking and take time to notice the sunrise and countryside. We cross into NC at 35 mph, someone must have sprinted. The road surface changes from tar and gravel to smooth blacktop. The obligatory sigh of relief is heard throughout the peloton. I don’t know how many we have left now, but it looks like there is still 300-400 in front of me. We approach a hill and I can see the whole bunch in front. Wish I had a camera, what a picture. Over the hill at 21 mph, then back up to 25. Left turn and over to highway 29 where the first SAGS are waiting. We are applauded as we roll through. By now, I comfortable, the training paid off. Two years ago I was off the back at this point. I see John Holloway; he says we’ve gone 33 miles in 1:20. (25 mph) The next hurdle is the big hill at 45 miles. This is where I historically get dropped. I move up anticipating the inevitable and plan to pace it so that I filter through the field during the climb and am still in contact by the time we get to the top. It worked!!! I’m still here. Pulse is 180, I hurt like hell, but not gone… yet. Now I am. The next hill got me. Okay, been here before, settle down, pace myself, pickup riders and regroup for the rest of the ride to Marion. I pick up a few more riders and we work our way towards Bill’s Hill. Charles is at the top and hands up a fresh water bottle and Poweraid. He motor paces me a short distance, but it’s not worth the energy to keep up. I need to save some for the climb. The roads are familiar enough that I recognize the hills and pace myself accordingly. . I start to see the Spartanburg guys: John, Donnie H. and Greg. They don’t recognize me. I take a huge pull on a flat section, 28-30 mph and pull off. Donnie rolls up and I casually say: “Hi Donnie”. He still doesn’t recognize me. “It’s me, Richard”. “Ridlehuber?!” We ride together for a while. Another group comes up to us, we jump in and rest, letting them do some work. A couple of long climbs later and it’s Greg K and me. We ride to Marion together. I ask him how he feels and he says “Shot.” Elapsed time 3:38. Average speed is 20 mph, good time for me on this course. I stop briefly at Marion to fill up water bottles, and scarf down two bananas. Then back on the bike for the second half of the ride. On the approach, I pick off several riders. I know the climb doesn’t really start until you get to the bridge and the little white church so I ride hard to limit my losses. I assess myself to gauge my pace: Energy levels are okay, still sweating, legs tight, and pulse 164. There’s the church, time to start climbing. I settle into a 7-8 mph pace in my 39 X 25. A few riders pass. Legs start to cramp. I stand, and shift positions, unzip my jersey and drink. The cramp subsides. I keep this pace all the way up the watershed, slowing to 5 mph on the steeper sections. Riders pass. I reach the top of the watershed at 5:00 even. Steve Verdell is there and fills up by bottles. I eat another banana. George H. is probably just finishing (he actually finished in 5:08). If I’m going to break 7 hours I have 2 more hours to go 16 miles. I keep climbing. At this point, it’s a mind game. The Challenge is real. People are quitting, my legs are cramping, and my energy levels are so low I can’t get my pulse over 145. If I stand for too long I get light headed, so I sit and grind it out. Riders pass me, then pull off to rest, then hop back on the bike, pass me again, then stop to rest. It’s like the Tortoise and the Hare. I keep going. The road continues up, I recognize the scenery and take it in, anything to take my mind off the messages from my body. There’s the curve before the rest stop at the 2-mile descent. I stop, refill bottles, eat another banana, and orange. By now I’ve had 3 gallons of fluids. Time to descend, get dry and cool off. Speeds are in the mid 40’s and 2 miles later it’s over, I’m dry, and cool now, but not for long. I approach the entrance to Mount Mitchell State Park and realize I’m not going to break 7 hours. I keep going. It’s hot, I’m cramping, can’t get my pulse up, and am creeping at 4-5 mph. Keep going and look for the left hand bend in the road before the straight shot into the park gates. Finally there it is! Now I have another mile of semi-flat riding. I kick it up to 20 mph and pick off a few riders. I go past the restaurant and give what’s left to the last three curves. I look for the split rail fence signaling the start to the parking lot. There’s the fence. Guys are sitting on it encouraging me on. I keep looking up the road. There’s Charles, someone goes by me. I consider sprinting, but just don’t have it in me, might cramp. I see the cones, arrows, and clock. It’s ticking. I cross the line at 7:18. I’m glad that’s over. Again…
For more information on the Assault on Mount Mitchell, go to http://freewheelers.info/assault.html
January 31, 2004
January 27, 2004
Welcome W. Brown
Every so often a story needs to be told. This is a story about a most dedicated cyclist: W. Brown.
During the Masters Race of the Upstate SC Race Weekend, on Sunday morning, August 16 2003, a taxicab makes its way onto the racecourse and pulls into a driveway in front of the shuttered Pepto Bismol plant at Donaldson Center. The back end of the taxi is sticking out into the road and a field of riders is fast approaching. I start yelling for the driver to pull on into the driveway and get out of the road; bringing a lot of attention to the situation. Thankfully the driver does.
A young, simply dressed, black man gets out and pays the cabbie, then the cabbie gets out, opens his trunk and removes a large bike box. Those of us watching are all wondering who this is and what is going on. I approach the young man and ask him if he needs any help? “Yes, can someone help me put my bike together?” I tell him I will. We open the box, and he shows me his tools. The two of us make short order of assembling the bike, making small conversation.
R. “What race are you in?”
W. “Cat 5.”
R. “My name is Richard what’s yours?”
W. “W. Brown”
R. “What’s the W. stand for, is it Walter? my middle name is Walter”
W. “I just go by W. (dubya)”.
R. “Where are you from?”
W. “Raleigh. I took the 1 o’clock bus yesterday afternoon”
W. “These are my pedals. Make sure you get the left on the left and the right on the right.”
R. “Okay, aren’t they marked left and right?”
W. “Yeah”
I attach his pedals, threading them backwards.
Up till now, I am thinking this is pretty unusual because I have only seen a few top Pro riders take taxicabs to races before, and there are even fewer black cyclists. So I assume he is a strong rider who wants to place or win and earn some money to cover his costs.
We finish assembling the bike, he looks it over and tells me I did a better job then he does. While I go get my pump for his tires, cyclists nearby ask me what is going on and offer to help. The guys from the Atlanta based CycleWorks team pin his number, others give him gels and offer water bottles.
The Cat 5 race is about to start and “W” lines up with the rest of the 19 riders. The race starts, and three laps in “W” is off the back. The crowd is cheering him on. By lap 6 he is way off the back. We keep cheering anyway. The race ends and “W” finishes last.
Afterwards, we give “W” some snacks and a Red Bull or two. He changes back into his street clothes. I see that someone else is helping him disassemble his bike and is struggling with the backwards-threaded pedals. I lend “W” my cell phone and he calls the taxicab for his trip back to Raleigh.
In retrospect, I don’t remember who finished first in the race or how much they won, but I definitely remember the story about W Brown, the black guy from Raleigh NC, who took a 16 hour bus/taxi ride to a race and finished last; and the lesson in dedication he demonstrated to all of us at Donaldson Center that Sunday morning.
During the Masters Race of the Upstate SC Race Weekend, on Sunday morning, August 16 2003, a taxicab makes its way onto the racecourse and pulls into a driveway in front of the shuttered Pepto Bismol plant at Donaldson Center. The back end of the taxi is sticking out into the road and a field of riders is fast approaching. I start yelling for the driver to pull on into the driveway and get out of the road; bringing a lot of attention to the situation. Thankfully the driver does.
A young, simply dressed, black man gets out and pays the cabbie, then the cabbie gets out, opens his trunk and removes a large bike box. Those of us watching are all wondering who this is and what is going on. I approach the young man and ask him if he needs any help? “Yes, can someone help me put my bike together?” I tell him I will. We open the box, and he shows me his tools. The two of us make short order of assembling the bike, making small conversation.
R. “What race are you in?”
W. “Cat 5.”
R. “My name is Richard what’s yours?”
W. “W. Brown”
R. “What’s the W. stand for, is it Walter? my middle name is Walter”
W. “I just go by W. (dubya)”.
R. “Where are you from?”
W. “Raleigh. I took the 1 o’clock bus yesterday afternoon”
W. “These are my pedals. Make sure you get the left on the left and the right on the right.”
R. “Okay, aren’t they marked left and right?”
W. “Yeah”
I attach his pedals, threading them backwards.
Up till now, I am thinking this is pretty unusual because I have only seen a few top Pro riders take taxicabs to races before, and there are even fewer black cyclists. So I assume he is a strong rider who wants to place or win and earn some money to cover his costs.
We finish assembling the bike, he looks it over and tells me I did a better job then he does. While I go get my pump for his tires, cyclists nearby ask me what is going on and offer to help. The guys from the Atlanta based CycleWorks team pin his number, others give him gels and offer water bottles.
The Cat 5 race is about to start and “W” lines up with the rest of the 19 riders. The race starts, and three laps in “W” is off the back. The crowd is cheering him on. By lap 6 he is way off the back. We keep cheering anyway. The race ends and “W” finishes last.
Afterwards, we give “W” some snacks and a Red Bull or two. He changes back into his street clothes. I see that someone else is helping him disassemble his bike and is struggling with the backwards-threaded pedals. I lend “W” my cell phone and he calls the taxicab for his trip back to Raleigh.
In retrospect, I don’t remember who finished first in the race or how much they won, but I definitely remember the story about W Brown, the black guy from Raleigh NC, who took a 16 hour bus/taxi ride to a race and finished last; and the lesson in dedication he demonstrated to all of us at Donaldson Center that Sunday morning.
Welcome and Introduction
Welcome to "In the Zone." I hope you enjoy the stories of faith, dedication, challenge, love, joy, humor, sadness, and safety, all real examples of how Jesus Christ is alive in the world today. I find cycling to be a part of an active, healthy lifestyle and do not recommend it to everyone. I say a part, because cycling is not a means to an end. Only Jesus Christ is. I don’t ride to get closer to Jesus, but he is with me every pedal stroke of the way. I want him to be with you as well.
More about me: I am a happily married, father of three children who never really stopped riding his bike as a child. Cycling is a conduit for me to meet terrific people and go to fantastic places in the US and Europe. I raced on and off road for 15 years competitively and now ride as a fast recreational rider. I’ve raced in 5 states, on the velodrome, toured across SC 5 times, done 24 hour team events, and most recently dabbled in cyclocross. I direct races, charity rides, and am a regular on group rides in SC/NC. I am a USCF Bike Race official and have been invited to speak at various community clubs/organizations about my experiences. I ride bikes with my wife, children and family.
When I am not with my family or on the bike, I am at Church or working to promote a bike ride/race or charity event. I work as a Quality and Safety systems manager in the Chemical Division of a large private manufacturing firm headquartered in South Carolina. I also enjoy woodworking and home improvement projects.
Thank you for reading. Glory to God in the Highest. May the Peace of the Lord be always with you.
More about me: I am a happily married, father of three children who never really stopped riding his bike as a child. Cycling is a conduit for me to meet terrific people and go to fantastic places in the US and Europe. I raced on and off road for 15 years competitively and now ride as a fast recreational rider. I’ve raced in 5 states, on the velodrome, toured across SC 5 times, done 24 hour team events, and most recently dabbled in cyclocross. I direct races, charity rides, and am a regular on group rides in SC/NC. I am a USCF Bike Race official and have been invited to speak at various community clubs/organizations about my experiences. I ride bikes with my wife, children and family.
When I am not with my family or on the bike, I am at Church or working to promote a bike ride/race or charity event. I work as a Quality and Safety systems manager in the Chemical Division of a large private manufacturing firm headquartered in South Carolina. I also enjoy woodworking and home improvement projects.
Thank you for reading. Glory to God in the Highest. May the Peace of the Lord be always with you.
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