200 Kilometers - not how they drew it up on the board.

I'm the first one here, so I'll take my own picture. I've been looking forward to this brevet since June when I last rode with John our RBA. Since then, I've been given the opportunity to be the Regional Brevet Administrator (RBA) of a new region that has been created in Southern Illinois.

I want to spend the day talking it over with John, getting his perspective. And I'm really tired of riding alone. Except for one day with Mike, my friend from Sesser, it's been all alone riding. It will be nice to have company today.

All the riders are here (there's only 6 counting me) so we'll soon be on the road. The forecast is for hot humid weather with a 50% chance of thunderstorms. It's been raining all morning, I hope it quits and the day is fair. We'll see.

Look who showed up uninvited. And only 3 miles from the start. Everyone was riding along mostly together when John announced he had flatted his front tire. I stopped to help him while the other riders kept going. John spent a few minutes wrestling a too-tight tire off of the rim, and when he put in the spare tube, he discovered that it was too large. His wheels are 650C and the tube he brought was 700C. I offered him my patch kit, but he decided to abandon and go home.

"Great," I thought, "now I'll have to ride alone all day if I can't catch the others." And I was at least 10 or 15 minutes behind.

I rolled out with the intent of keeping a quick pace and trying to catch back up. Then 500 yards from leaving John I flatted! It was my rear tire. And it is the same brand as John's and just as tight. I wrestled it off, changed the tube, and wrestled it back on as quickly as I could. Looking at my watch, I figured that I was at least 30 - 35 minutes behind the others. Maybe if I hurried, and they stopped at Pocohontas I could still catch them.

I rolled out singing to myself to keep the pace high..."2, 3, 4, 5, John Jacob Jingle-Heimer-Schmitt. That's my name, too. 3, 4, 5 Whenever I go out, the people always shout "Hey! John Jacob Jingle-Heimer-Schmitt!" Tra-la-la-la-la-la-la John Jacob Jingle...

Daylight and no sign of them. John Jacob Jingle-Heimer-Schmitt that's my name, too. 3, 4, 5...

Pocohontas, and still no one. I was thinking of going in and asking if they had stopped and how long ago it might have been, but I decided to keep trying to catch them. Whenever I go out, the people always shout, "Hey, John Jacob Jingle-Heimer-Schmitt!" Tra-la-la-la-la-la-la...

Finally, a rider. This is Brandon. He's doing the 300K today so I won't be seeing him again.

Brandon says that John and Tom are probably 30 minutes out but that George is only 10 or 15 minutes ahead. Maybe if I refill quickly and if George takes a long stop at Okawville, and if I can go a little faster, I'll still ride with someone today! Nothing to do but try. "Hey, John Jacob Jingle-Heimer-Schmitt!" Tra-la-la-la-la-la-la John Jacob Jingle...

C-130 rolling down the strip.

Recon daddy gonna take a little trip.

Stand up, buckle up, shuffle to the door.

Jump right out and count to four.

When I was in the Marines, we often ran in formation, singing to keep up the pace. This cargo plane from Scott Air Force Base reminded me of that. I don't remember singing John Jacob-Jingle-Heimer-Schmitt, though. 2, 3, 4, 5 ...

Well there's Tom and John coming back from the turn-around spot. I'm still 30 minutes from there, so they have an hour on me. Bye, guys! Nice riding with you today.


Oh, George didn't take a long enough stop at Okawville. I'm still 2 miles from the control! As he rolled by he shouted, "See you around, sometime!" I assumed he wasn't going to soft pedal and wait for me. See you, George. Nice riding with you today.

You can't see the flag in front of this house, but there is one. And it's pointing AT me. That's right, the wind has shifted. It was blowing out of the South West all the way to the turn-around, and instead of helping me home, it shifted to the North West. Nothing like a head-wind all day to check your attitude. And trying to catch up has left me spent. Oh well...whenever I go out, the people always shout...

First one here, last one back it seems. After flatting early, riding alone all day against the wind, this is the one thing that discourages me the most. Brevet riding, more so than riding charity rides or, to some extent, even competitive cycling, requires self-discipline, self-motivation, self-encouragement and self-sufficiency. But it shouldn't require self-congratulations. You shouldn't have to look in the side-view mirror of your car and say "Good job!" There should be someone at the finish to hear your stories and say "Good job, Miles!" We have to purchase our own medals if we want one. We have to send our blogs to everyone on our contact list, hoping for a little encouragement. We have to offer leading phrases the next work day (like: boy my legs are a little sore after Saturday...) hoping a co-worker will ask and we'll get a chance to tell our story.

There should be someone here!

John Jacob Jingle-Heimer-Schmitt. That's my name too...

Oh Solo Me - O

Today will be the "worker's ride" for the Marion 300 kilometer Brevet that will be held next Saturday July 31st. It's not even 4:00 a.m. yet, and it' already 80 degrees. This might be a difficult day.



The official start time for the ride today will be 4:00. I think I'll make it in time. My goal is to be finished by 7:00 tonight. I'd really like to be done by 6:30, but that may be a little optimistic. There's quite a bit of climbing on this route today and it is 187 miles.



As you can see, there is only one worker - me. This will be a solo ride. Riding with others can ease the miles,especially if there is good conversation. But there will be no one to talk to today. I won't even be talking to myself, I fear. I'm a truck driver, and I never have anyone to talk to but myself. A couple of days ago, I got into an argument with myself, and I'm not finished being mad, so I'm still not speaking to me. This could be a very long day indeed.



That bright spot above the city lights is a celestial light. There will be a full moon this morning. You can't ask for anything better than that for a bicycle ride.



Out on Wing Hill road near Giant City State Park the day is finally beginning to dawn. When planning how long this would take, I forgot to take into account the descents, some steep, that I'd be riding down. Climbing in the dark isn't bad, I'm pretty slow. But flying down the other side in the dark is terrifying. So I did my best to wear out my brake pads this morning, and I'm sure I cost myself some time. We'll see...

This is the home of Pitts Brothers Polled Herefords. 7 out of 10 Herefords polled say that people should eat more chicken.



The highest peak you can see, where the sun is beginning to shine, is Bald Knob. On the top is the Cross of Peace. That's our destination. I always like riding up Skyline Drive; the view is great. In the fall it's even more spectacular.



It turns out that on a Sunday, there's no one around at the visitor's center. No one except this Great Pyrenees dog. She was here the last time I rode up and I shared a Power Bar with her. She apparently remembered. As I was getting off of my bike, I felt a tap on my leg. I turned to see her sitting prettily and using a front paw to get my attention. It worked. I shared with her again.

I decided to sign my own Brevet card, I was afraid that if I asked her to put a paw print on it for me, it might be unreadable at the next Control.



This is the payoff for riding up here. It may not be Lookout Mountain in Tennessee, but it's pretty cool for Southern Illinois.



Next Control is Brunzeez Cafe in Ava, Illinois. And wouldn't you know it? They don't open until 11:00 on a Sunday. What's up with rolling up the sidewalks in Southern Illinois? Fortunately, unlike Bald Knob, there is a nearby grocery store. I'll buy some water there and get my card signed. I'm hoping to find someone open today.



Union School gives this road it's name: Union School Road. Pretty creative, don't you think? I don't believe it's a working school anymore. I found myself wondering, though, if the toilets on the west side of the school yard were far enough from the pump located at the east side of the building. I suppose that back then it didn't matter.



Kimmel road which becomes Peach Orchard road in the next county, is 12 miles of farm land. Corn on the right, soybeans on the left. But don't confuse this with food production. There are no tortillas; there is no tofu in those fields. That's fuel. Farmer Brown no longer produces food for our families, he produces fuel for our SUV's and pickups. And when those 3 billion Chinese people all get cars, we'll have to eat each other. Monsanto will not allow any food production then. Only fuel. And all of it genetically modified to be high octane.



As I was riding down Kimmel Road, I saw a little green car up ahead. It stopped on the side of the road and the driver let two small children out. I figured they needed to pee and couldn't wait. Then I saw them set up a table and two pitchers of water. I wondered what they were doing. As I rode past, they were taping a sign to the front which said, "FREE WATER". While trying to figure it out, I suddenly realized that the man with them was my riding friend, Mike. I hardly recognized him without his helmet and his riding kit.

I turned around to ask what was up. He replied that he was providing "neutral support" for the worker's ride today. The water would be available to any rider who rode past. Mike is crazy.

Our rules don't allow for personal support of any kind outside of official checkpoints. Neutral support or "found" support is allowed however. Because I had just purchased water at a gas station, I really didn't need any, but he and the kids had gone to a lot of trouble.

Besides, this man continues to find creative ways to teach his kids that a life well lived can't be measured in dollars; it can only be measured by friendships. And the currency of friendship is service. I wanted to be a part of the lesson today, so I topped off the bottle I'd been drinking out of with their water. After thanking the kids for their "FREE WATER", I rolled off.

Thanks to my slow descending in the dark, I was behind my self-imposed schedule. I had time to make up.



After 135 miles of HEED, plain water, and Perpetuem, I wanted something different. I don't drink soda; I think soda causes tooth decay and obesity. However, I decided to break my own "no soda" rule (as well as the rule about not using anything on a ride that you haven't trained with) and buy a Coke.

I expected at least heartburn, or maybe a sudden bonk, or even projectile diarrhea. Turns out that none of that happened. It was actually tasty! I think on the next ride, I'll get the Coke AND the chocolate donuts. Maybe I'll develop a new training regimen.



It seems that the surveyors who surveyed this road have discovered the geographic location of hell. I can't believe there would be any other spot labeled 666. Marion Illinois has a motto: The Hub of the Universe. Maybe Carrier Mills would like to adopt a new motto: The Gates of Hell. Just a thought.



Either someone has illegally brought a horse onto the Tunnel Hill Bike Trail or we need to hold a class on proper trail etiquette for cyclists. I'm hoping it was a horse.



Just as I feared, I'm not going to make 6:30 or even 7:00. If I hurry a little, I might make 8:00. It's been a long day in the saddle. I haven't been able to eat for the last couple of hours because of nausea brought on by the heat (unless it was the Coke in Thompsonville). I decided to sit inside at the previous Control in Creal Springs for a little while. I sat at a booth sipping cold water until I felt nearly human again, and lost some time. Good thing this isn't a race.



The final picture of the "worker" on today's worker's ride. Typically for me, I also needed this ride as my July R-12 ride. If I'd failed today, I would have to start over and I already have 7 consecutive months. I work best under pressure.

The route has been checked and I'm ready to work the event on Saturday. Quite honestly, I don't think anyone will come. I only had two for the 200K event, and they drove down from St. Louis out of friendship and sympathy. It wasn't as hot or hilly then. All the riding friends I have in Southern Illinois have made it clear that randonneuring is not for them so I won't be expecting them either.

But I rode it. And if you remember, this was the route that I DNF'd earlier this year because I broke 4 spokes on a rear wheel and nearly had wheel failure. Crista Borras told me that completing the route later would be sweeter because of that. She was right. How sweet it is!

With a little help from my friends...600K in the books.

It's Friday evening and time to load the rental car. The cost of renting this vehicle, only to leave it in a parking lot for 2 days makes me wonder about the sanity of selling my car a couple of years ago. No use crying over spilled soy milk.

In keeping with my lack of sense, I didn't ride a 200K ride this month for the R-12 award. I have to finish this ride or I lose BOTH the R-12 award and the SR award. It's all on the line today.

What's more, in the pre-loading bike check, I found a broken front spoke. It wasn't broken on my last ride (which was yesterday) so I'm not sure when it happened. I'm grateful that I found it here, where I can repair and retrue the wheel, and not in Edwardsville. I have a bad feeling about this now.



So far, so good. The riders are all checking in. It's 3:30 a.m. and the ride starts at 4:00. Did I mention that I had to get up at 12:45 in order to drive here in time? Not gonna be much rest this weekend, I fear.





Here we go. The decision whether or not to abandon has now been made by the decision to start. Come what may, I'll have to make it the whole way. (I hope.) It also occurs to me that by always waiting to take the pictures of the riders leaving, it puts me off the back from the start. I'm concerned that that may not be a good strategy today. I'll have to hurry and catch up with a group.



For now the moon will keep a watchful eye on our progress. But daylight is coming, and Mr. Sun will try his best to defeat us today. The temperature is supposed to be in the mid-high 90's with clear skys and high humidity.



There doesn't seem to be anyone with me. That's because I had a flat at mile 25, still in the dark. It's my first flat this year. Not the time I would have chosen to have one. Besides being quite alone as the others went on, the mosquitoes, who always pick off the weak and sick, saw an easy target and attacked me. I looked like an OFF commercial.



The only thing to do is to catch up. I turned on my Heart Rate Monitor which I wore for keeping track later of heat stress. My max heart rate is 199. I'll have to keep it below 175 or I'll use up too much precious energy - but I'll have to hurry. I struggled to get that Gatorshell tire back on. Remember, this is my first flat and it fits really tightly. I'm hoping that the others pre-hydrated fully, and they'll need to stop to pee in Pocohontas.



Yea! Back on. It's only two riders, John Jost, our RBA, and Dennis Smith. But I'm not alone anymore.



Every sixth row of corn you pass is a gallon of ethanol in your gas. Or so they say. At this rate, Illinois will soon be the Saudi Arabia of ethanol.



You're looking at my secret weapon against the sun today. I purchased sun sleeves from Pearl Izumi and fashioned this really stylish head gear out of an elastic band, some velcro dots, and a white bandanna. The European judges have already marked me down on style points for wearing a beard and not shaving my legs, so this won't cost me too much more. And maybe it'll save the day. We'll see.



This is Ralph. Later tonight, I'll sleep with him. No really! It turns out that no one had emailed me about sharing a room, so I reserved a hotel room with one king size bed. And it turns out that Ralph had not reserved a room. When I arrived in Vienna at 10:30, beat up by the day's events, Ralph said that he had already paid for my room and asked if he could sleep on the floor.

"That's nonsense," I told him. "You're not gay and neither am I. You can sleep in the bed with me. Sleeping on the floor is nuts."

That's how I came to sleep with Ralph. Actually I didn't sleep - I laid there for 2 hours listening to him snore. Oh well. It saved me $35 bucks.



Back out on the open road, John is feeling good and setting a good pace. Dennis is constantly encouraging us to take it easy and save some for later. One of these riders might be wrong.



200 kilometers are in the books. Only 400 more to go. Sounds like a lot when I put it that way, huh?



In Irvington, John puts on his secret weapons. He has brought sun leggings, and a beanie. I think he looks ridiculous, but perhaps I'm not the right one to be judgmental, all things considered.



At Irvington, we pick up Ken. He started with a faster group, but fell off the back and decided to wait for another train to come by. Our little peleton is now 4. The rest of the ride, Ken will keep his strategy up. He'll leave us in his dust, then wait for us up the road to ride with someone, because riding alone is difficult. Everybody has to have a strategy.



Dennis is ready to roll. He has no secret weapons, and no real strategy. He is merely determined to make it all the way to the finish in less than 40 hours. He rode Last Chance 1200K last year, and has already declared this ride more difficult than that one. That worries me.



Stopping for ice and water will be the theme of the day. No gas station will be missed in our goal to finish this ride. In fact, at the first stop, John threw away a bottle of water when he finished filling up and it was left over. Horrified, I rescued it from the trash can. I'd sooner throw away the Hope Diamond today, than a bottle of water. I'd rather carry the extra weight in my pannier, than do without it later and wish I had it. Hey, I thought there were 4 riders in this group. Where's Miles?



Oh there he is. I thought he'd already abandoned. Whew! That was close.



"I don't care if it rains or freezes, long as I got my plastic Jesus..." If you haven't seen "Cool Hand Luke", rent it.

I always carry this plastic Jesus when I ride. I'm not superstitious, and barely religious. But it reminds me of a story I made up about Crista Borras, the RUSA Permanents Czar.

When she was a Girl Scout, she went on a weekend hike featuring an orienteering trial at the end. She really wanted that orienteering badge for her sash. During the hike, she twisted her ankle rather badly and a Scout Leader encouraged her to sit out the orienteering trail and wait for next year. Crista uttered what would become her motto, "If they haven't had to call your next of kin, yet, quitting is not your only option!" Fashioning a crutch out of a nearby limb, she went on to get that orienteering badge. Today she always carries it to remind her that she can make it, no matter how difficult things get.

I like that.



At the control in Belle Rive the crew is looking grim. A couple of these riders are only 20 miles from abandoning. The heat has been trying today. In the corner is a rider who probably doesn't know his name. He's out now.



The bridge is out. We will have to carry our bikes across the creek. The creek bank is lined with rocks the size of your head. I fell down, skinning my leg and my bike. I also landed on my bike and untrued the front wheel. I needed to take a little time to "field" true it before I could go on.

John fell down and decided that he was too exhausted to go on. A vehicle will come pick him up soon. Too, bad. He's a strong rider with a lot of grit. But the conditions don't respect him for that. They've been gunning for him for a little while now.

In another few miles, Ralph will abandon as well.



Finally, one of our enemies takes a break from pounding us. The sun is finally going down. What a tough day so far. After the flat I had at the 25 miles mark, I continued to flat all day. Although I carefully inspected the tire, I couldn't find the offender. Every 11-15 miles, I had to stop and repump the tire to keep going. And I replaced the tube twice, hoping I'd solved it.

Finally, at Thompsonville, after nearly 12 hours of this nonsense, Dennis looked at my tire for me. He found a small rock in the outside of the tire which didn't seem to come through the casing, but must have been working it's way through as I rode. Once removed, at least I wouldn't be wearing out my pump or myself now. Thank you Dennis.



Dark again. We'll soon be on the Tunnel Hill Bike Trail. 15 miles of crushed limestone, sticks, and only God knows what else. We'll have to ride carefully and pay attention. And with no mishaps, maybe by 10 or so we'll be in Vienna. That puts us about two hours behind most of the riders, but still in the money.



Day two. Dennis and I left the hotel at 2:45. Not much rest. Surprisingly our legs are strong, but our bottoms are complaining. Dennis is wearing two pairs of shorts, and I decide to do the same. It helps a little, but this could be a long 162 miles today.

Dennis has encouraged me to "go on ahead, if you want". I refuse. We've come this far together, I couldn't imagine separating now. We'll pull each other to the finish today.



At last! Okawville! It's the last control before the finish. Only 50 miles to go, now.



After getting a ride from Vienna back to Edwardsville, John met us at the Gas Mart in Okawville. He still looks beat up. But he'll be back for another try later. He's tough.



The dynamic duo today. Dennis Smith and me. Speaking of style point, notice the straps of my bib shorts? I know you're supposed to have them UNDER the jersey. The first pair IS under the jersey. I was too tired to mess with the second pair. I just pulled them on. I'll never get my picture in American Randonneur if I don't get my style together.



Putting the Brevet card in the plastic box at the Police Station is the last thing I have to do. 375 miles ago, I wasn't sure we'd have this picture. I'm glad we do.

And I couldn't have done it without help. Thank you John and Dennis for riding with me today; especially you, Dennis. Without your help with my tire, I might have had to abandon in Vienna. Without your encouragement I might have fallen to the conditions. In fact, at one time, when the heat was really getting to me on day two, I mentioned to Dennis that I really needed to stop and cool off. We found a shady spot on the roadside, and I lay in the grass to rest. I immediately fell asleep. Dennis sat patiently, watching over me for a few minutes until I woke up and was ready to go again. That's the kind of friend he was on this ride.

And special thanks to Mrs. Stoneman. As the CFO of our little enterprise, she has never flinched at yet another bicycling purchase. She wants me to realize my dreams, and is willing to go along without complaint. I couldn't have done it otherwise.

Finally, thank you to the makers of Advil. You made the difference in this ride. Together we defeated the saddle sore demons which harassed me for these two days. And now Hibiclens will take over.

I was hoping to do the entire series for the first time this year. There were plenty of obstacles threatening my promise to myself. But now it's done.

Miles to go...Promises to Keep...With a Little Help From My Friends.