Reach the Beach

My bike and I had a date in Salem, Oregon for the Reach the Beach ride. I went with my friends from the Viet Nam trip, Jennifer and Rick Tobin. Rick’s sister Nancy and her husband John live in Salem in a real neat older home that they’ve lovingly refurbished. Their sons, Matthew and Chad generously gave up their bedrooms for the weekend so us old folks had a bed to sleep in. The weather could not have been better – low 80’s in Salem and 70’s at the coast.

There were a couple of glitches though – while laying my clothes out the night before I discovered I’d forgotten my shoes. I brought a pair of Merrill tennis shoes and I could certainly ride a short distance wearing those but this was 80 miles and I wasn’t sure that I could handle that. My pedals are SPDs so it was possible I could find a shop and buy a replacement pair. Nancy knew some male cyclists in town and she called one to see if he knew of any woman riders in hope that I could borrow her shoes. But no luck; I resigned myself to figuring it out in the morning.

There is typically a bike mechanic on duty at registration and at all the rest stops. While checking in I spoke to the mechanic and it turns out he and his dad own the local bike store in town. His dad climbed on his bike and we rode for about a mile to their great shop. I found a pair of shoes that worked, Dad put on the cleats and I was in and out of there in less than a half hour! Problem solved. I had one flat tire but it happened just as I was leaving a rest stop so the mechanic changed the tire and even though I had an extra tube (every experienced rider knows you carry one with you ) he reached into a big box and pulled out a new one. What a bonus! Rick had two flat tires, one as he was filling his tire before leaving the house and the second one very dramatically exploded as he was waiting in the registration line!

I love riding my bike almost more than any other activity I do. I enjoy golfing but sometimes you just have a lousy day and you feel so inept. But cycling always feels like freedom to me. I feel like I can go anywhere and do anything on my bike – it gives me such a feel of accomplishment. I rode a mountain bike for years . . . my former husband and I would always do the same ride in LaConner. We weren’t very adventuresome. We’d park our car in Mount Vernon, ride the back roads to LaConner, stop and have lunch at a brewery in town, climb back on our bikes and loop back to Mount Vernon. We thought we were really riding because we put in 20-30 miles and it took us hours! Now that seems like a drop in the bucket, I do that in an evening ride after work. I’ve come a long way in three and a half years.

The last fifteen miles of the ride I told Rick, a much stronger rider than I am, to push it as fast as he could and I would try to keep up with him. Of course I lost him as soon as we came to the first incline. But I continued to push and actually almost caught up with him! I finished within 500 yards and maintained an average speed of 18 miles per hour – 14-15 on the inclines. Of course I was sucking air but I did it. I’m going to challenge myself more often – maybe, just maybe I’ll get really serious about this. Not as serious as Lance Armstrong but just a little more disciplined.

Sunday I returned home in time to met Charlie’s grandparents, Frank and Irene who are visiting from San Francisco. Frank and Irene are great role models in how to age gracefully. They were full of fun stories about their son Greg, Charlie’s dad. And any time spent with my little muffin Abby is always a good time!