The Prouty...

I recently rode in the Prouty Cancer Charity ride out of Hanover, NH USA, and it got me thinking about the first time I rode that nearly 6 years ago. For those of you that don’t know what a Century ride is, it is a fully supported charity bicycle ride of 100 miles. On an average Century ride, I will burn between 6000 and 7000 calories and will lose 5-7 pounds. I want to relate to you what it was like that first time:

It’s the night before. I can’t sleep. Nervous energy races through me. Will the hills be too hard? How hot will it be? Can I make it? I finally fall asleep at 3 am only to have the alarm go off at 4:30.

Although tied, I nearly jump out of bed and quickly dress. Downstairs, I make myself a large coffee for the hour ride to the start of the event. With the bike loaded on top, and my helmet, shoes and other accompaniments, I set off at 5:00 am.

Miraculously, I met my 3 riding partners in the crowd of 2000 cyclists. Eager to ride, we take off. 10 miles into the ride I feel great! I am energized by the sights and sounds of the other cyclist. The road is awash in color from all the different jerseys the riders are wearing. The wind is light and the temperature just a little chilly, but promising to warm up quickly.

20 miles have gone by now. I still feel great. I can’t believe how good I am riding and how strong I feel. I am a cycling god today.  I felt like Lance Armstrongbeforewe knew he doped! 

I am passing riders left and right. It almost feels as if I am flying. I take a sip from my grape Poweraide filled water bottle. It tastes like nectar from the gods!

40 Miles now! I am the Energizer Bunny. I keep going and going! There are only 60 more miles to go! We are all doing great. The heat is starting to build quickly, but I am hydrating well so it is not a problem. This is a piece of cake. I am going up hills like there is a motor on my bike.

60 miles. I am beginning to feel periodic cramping in my legs. My back is getting a little sore from being bent over the handlebars for so long.I can no longer feel my derriere!! Even though I am having some cramping, my legs feel pretty good. I should ride a Century Ride every weekend! Maybe I will ride in the Tour de France next year!!

70 miles…the first hint of being tied has started to creep in. The heat has built up quite a lot. I try to ride in the shadows on the side of the road to stay out of the sun. Sadly, there is little shadow to be found. 

I'm still feeling good but I have run out of water and it is about 10 miles until the next stop. It’s touching the mid 90s now. I am thirsty.

80 miles in…the heat is unbearable. There is no shade to be found anywhere. I am starting to hallucinate. The salt from my sweat is stinging my eyes and making it hard to see. I HATE everybody right now. Why did I decide to ride this? What was I thinking? I can’t seem to drink enough fluids. I am severely dehydrated. I HATE my bike right now!!!

86 miles…I would sell my soul for an air-conditioned ride home right now. I would leave my hated bicycle on the side of the road, hoping to never, ever see it or another bicycle again! I think I might die from the heat.

90 miles in…wait, WTF? Did I just hear that the last 10 miles are all up hill? Are you F’ing kidding me? If I can find the sadistic bastard that designed this course I will pummel him until he lay bleeding in the dirt, provided I haven’t already died from this heat! 

As if the up hills aren’t enough, we now have a 20 mile headwind. Is that thunder I just heard? Must pedal faster!!!!

100 miles!!! I made it!!! As I cross the finish line, I am cheered and thanked by many volunteers that line each side of the finish. I feel like I just won the Tour de France! As I walk through the finish area, and see the other riders and volunteers, I remember the list of names I carried in my pocket. I read the names of friends and family members and remember why I ride, and vow to ride again next year!
Thanks for reading!

Excuse me but the diveway is on fire...

"Excuse me, but the driveway is on fire." 

 I actually heard those words from my ex-wife one Winter day, many, many years ago. Sadly, she was correct and it was all my own doing!! I should back up here for a moment. I was about 26 years old, and it was my first house. I was very inexperienced in the ways of home ownership and maintenance, and quite impatient.

It all started because of a brutally cold winter in New Hampshire in 1990-1991. The house I owned at the time had a dirt driveway. Since it was dirt and not tar, it never got the benefit of having the same heat conductivity of a black surface, and therefore the snow would not melt. Snow storm after snow storm fell that winter and the snow turned to ice. No matter what I tried, I could not clear the ice from the driveway. Eventually, the ice was nearly 4 inches thick! I tried driveway melt, sand, fireplace ash...nothing worked!

Then, in a flash of brilliance, I had an epiphany.  What melts ice? Heat melts ice. What creates heat? Fire creates heat. I think it's one of those universal laws of physics or something. I needed to generate heat!!!

So I went to the basement and got the small hand held blow torch I had from a previous failed "do it yourself" plumbing attempt. I opened the gas valve and touched the flame of a Bic lighter to the gas nozzle. The gas ignited into a pin thin stream flame.

I placed the flame to the ice covered driveway and immediately noticed two things. One was that the flame did indeed melt the ice, and two, the melting was directly proportionate to the size of the flame. In other words, with the pin like flame, it would have taken me approximately 237 years to melt the ice on my driveway.  It was apparent to me immediately that I needed more heat which meant bigger fire!

Hmmm....how could I make a bigger fire and thereby melt the ice on the driveway quicker? Then it hit me!!! Gas burns hot, and I had a gas can full of gas in the garage. Now, now, don't get in an uproar. I didn't pour the entire contents of the gas can on the driveway. I was going to try this the scientific way. I decided to pour just a small amount to test my theory.

I went to the garage and got the gas can. I slowly poured a small amount on the driveway and quite smartly, carried the can some distance from the driveway. Safety first, right? I walked back to where I planned to conduct my test. I lit the small puddle of gas with my Bic lighter. Whoosh! The flame lit quickly. This was going to work!!!

It was right at that moment that I saw a trail of flame leave the burning test puddle of gas and start to follow its way back to the gas can. Apparently, the can had leaked!! Before I had enough time to disrupt the burning trail of gas, it reached the gas can. Flames immediately began shooting from the nozzle like a flame thrower!

With an "Oh crap, what do I do now?" look on my face, I stood in shocked disbelief! I had to do something fast before the can blew up! With the my momentary indecision over, I decided to take action. It was my plan to push the gas can over into a large snow bank, thereby dousing the flame.

I was still unsure if this was going to explode on me, so I cautiously made my way over. Gingerly, I reached out with my foot and used the toe of my boot to push the burning can over into the snow. Sadly this didn't work. The small burning test puddle immediately transformed into a large burning pool, as the gasoline flowed freely from the can. Suddenly, it appeared as if I were staring into the very gates of Hell itself! The gasoline began flowing downhill, bringing with it, a burning river of fire!

I was at a loss at what to do. I had a hard time processing that there now was a napalm like swath of fire in my driveway. On the verge of panic, I started to head for the phone to call the local Fire Department. As I headed to the house to make the call, I noticed I had several 5 gallon buckets full of sand. I immediately began throwing the sand on the flames. Slowly, I began to overcome my predicament, as I covered the flames, until all the flame were out. Thankfully, I did not burn down the garage, or immolate myself! Tragedy narrowly averted!  As I stood there smugly admiring my new found firefighting skills, I heard my ex-wife say "Dumb Ass" as she went back inside.

Thanks for reading.