One Year Ago: Three Souls Ride

On Friday, October 20, 2017, I embarked on my first ever self-supported century bike ride. It was sort of scary to think about doing, I’ve always had someone to ride with on such a long ride and the route would take me through almost all new territory. I went into that part of it kind of blindly on purpose. The ride was intended to in be in honor and memory of three cycling-influential people in my life that had passed away in the last 14 months of time, the most recent being my mom. The plan was to ride from doorstep to doorstep - from my house to my dad’s house, 110 miles away in a day.

My day would take me from 35 degree temps in the morning to 77 degree temps at their peak in the afternoon. I would travel on rail trails, through the city, into the countryside on various paved and gravel roads. Exploring. Thinking. I would stop randomly as I needed rest or refreshment - I didn’t pre-plan any of those stops. I just wanted mostly to take a day of time to hear nothing but my tires, the wind and my own thoughts - maybe also the lost spirits talking to me and encouraging me along the way. To leave the outside world behind for just a day. It was exactly that, and I needed that day to myself in a bad way. I couldn’t help but to think all three of them were watching me that day. That made me happy.

Let’s first talk about the three souls.

First off is Pastor Robert Eckert. He was a genuine leader of our church, the first in a really long time that my wife and I really connected with and wanted to make a better future for our church with. He was inspiring, wise, caring, relatable but most of all, real. You knew where he stood and what his foundations were. He encouraged me to start up “Miles for Smiles” which was my first attempt at a church-based mission. The goal was to get congregation members to walk, run or ride bikes in collection of donations or pledge money. The money would be used to buy shoes and bikes for kids. (we raised $1800!) Not only did he help me refine the strategy and plan for M4S, but also began riding his bike from the parsonage to the church for work instead of taking his car. That overweight old guy said he was loving it, I wasn’t quite sure he was, but I think he was doing it more for me that he was himself, which was just like himself. He suddenly passed away in September 2016 after a month-long battle with cancer. It came on fast and quick and like that, he was gone. Pastor Robert, always giving and supportive, I will never forget him for that.

(Aunt) Dianne Dodds was my mom’s sister. As kids, mom would take us kids to go visit her in Brookfield, a Chicago Suburb, once or twice a summer - always taking our bikes with. She would pack us lunches usually ham and cheese sandwiches with lettuce and real mayo. A different (and delicious) sandwich that we wouldn't get normally at home. Aunt Dianne would have made plans to travel various places on our bikes - whether that was garage sales, their local rail trail bike path or to local parks to play on equipment. In between those times, my brother and I would spend countless hours riding around her block - real “city” riding we’d think of it as. She still had dirt in her alley, which was our first love. She would let us stop at local bike shops to buy accessories and stuff. I even bought my first mountain bike near there - a Specialized Hard Rock complete with index shifters. It was red (of course) and I remember test riding it in the back parking lot. I bet I could drive to it today. She always showed us new things and took us new places, taking the trains and buses of Chicago to get places. She died in January 2017 from a long stretch of battles with cancer and a brain injury which damaged her perception of the world around her. I miss her a lot, and I wish I could give her one more hug for all those shared times. I still remember us visiting her for the last time at the memory care facility she was living at. They closed the window-pane doors behind us, I saw her and waved through the windows as she turned and walked back to her room. She didn’t know she was getting transferred out of state so another family member could help take care of her. It was our last goodbye, but only mom and I knew that.

Last but not least, my mom. She passed away in February 2017, almost one month to the day from her sister. Mom survived a 2 year battle of lung cancer which she had been defeating, but it had already metastasized to her spine, liver and brain. She could feel her memory going that Thanksgiving and I think she sensed things were going to wind down soon. Her dream was to take us and her grandkids to Disney World together. We were able to do that just two weeks before she ended up passing away in February. Mom was always taking us places with our bikes. She taught us how to properly hoist them up on the trunk rack and pack old rags and velcro between bikes to keep them from rubbing during transit. She encouraged me to ride my bike to soccer practice in the summers. (Always wear your helmet!) We were always on bikes. We had our share of funny moments too, mom putting her helmet on backwards accidentally, her running stop signs (don’t do that) and her crashing under strange circumstances. She always had some sort of injury or grease on her leg from a bike ride it seemed. Mom was always interested in my rides as an adult and was watchful of the friends I had made. She would read this blog and we’d talk about it afterwards. I think she would be proud of where I am in my life and I work every day to continue to make her proud. Not one day has gone by that I don’t think of her since her passing.

My love of riding bikes wouldn’t be what it is without the influence of these three people.

Since this post is about a bike ride, I suppose I should talk a little about that. Although, there wasn’t really much notable that happened, so this is all you’ll get plus some pictures below. The thoughts and talks that I had with the “Three Souls” during my ride are just for me. Just know, that I felt all of their presence that day and reliving this one year later, makes me wish I was out there riding right at this very instant.

My Garmin says I burned 7000+ calories that day. So that is something I guess. But what is really something is that I did it and I did it with a smile - in memory of those that had left to do greater things for a greater purpose somewhere else. I am forever thankful for what these Three Souls gave me and inspired me to love.

Me and Mom on what would be our last bike ride together.

Much of what I saw this day was corn. Great day for a fall ride, unbelievably lucky really.

My most favorite of all street signs.

I love gravel.

This was my view and lunch I purchased around Gun Lake.

Pastor Robert had a way of making every month's communion special and unique. On one Sunday he handed these out, bread he made specially to last long periods of time. (I forget the story behind it.) It was given to us to enjoy at a time we felt we needed in this little mini-cup cake wrapper. I had been carrying it around with me for a year on my bike rides and finally chose to consume it. I needed it that day and spoke some emotional words to him as I ate it. It was delicious and I wished I had more.

Just me being dorky showing off my local-town spirit in jersey choice.

Ahh..southern Michigan. Where you can ride bikes behind slow moving Amish buggies. Watch out for poop!

Mission Complete. Almost 111 miles. It was a good time. I will have to do it again.

Done and arrived at Dad's. He said he was proud of me for doing this. I needed to hear that from him. It was a good day. I was tired and REALLY hungry. We later went to Indiana and got Italian Beef sandwiches. I'm not sure I tasted mine, it was gone so fast and I was tempted to order another one. What a day.

2018 Night Shift

Friday, August 10th was the sixth edition of Night Shift and I would have to consider it another overall success. I didn’t actually think it was going to go so well as only 45 minutes before the start, it was looking like it was just going to be three riders: myself, Matt L and Rick. Several “regulars” were out this year and I hadn’t heard from many of the other possibles.

With about 30 minutes to the start three more riders rolled up as we were loitering in front of our camping lots at Ionia State Recreation Area - Mark, Craig and Gary. Mark, a multi-Night Shift veteran, had said he might make it for the beginning part only, the other two guys were a surprise. Gary runs Dan’s Bike Shop in Ionia, Craig his friend. Then with 15 minutes before go-time, (another new guy) Matthew, a co-worker of a friend of mine, Brent, rolled up in his Prius with his bike in the trunk. All of a sudden we had seven riders!

George came to cheer us on at the start also. It was great to see him up and around. He recently had surgery on both his hips in the last 5 months and was disappointed to be missing the ride this year. I had very little time this entire spring to do much planning for the route, so being as this was in George’s back yard and he wouldn’t be able to join us, I just had him create the whole thing. It was a good one with just over 5000’ of climbing, so I’d say he did well planning it. Most all dirt roads were in great shape and provided pavement type surface. SAG stop #2 would also be at his house near the midnight mark so whether or not George felt it, he was still very much a big part of this year’s ride.

Rolling out. My first century ride on "Orange Crush".

With introductions out of the way, we were off at 8:01pm. Gary and Craig were really good riders. After we were off the rail trail into Muir, they left us behind rather quickly and stayed with us past SAG stop 1 but peeled away before SAG 2. Gary used to race a lot, Craig commutes regularly to work and rides to Pennsylvania for “fun”. Mark also bailed just before SAG 2 as it was near his house and had an important morning meeting Saturday to attend. Quickly it went from seven to five to just four riders. Let me go back a minute - before we reached SAG 1, we had an exciting ride through some “rustic” downhill and very rocky two-track that was obviously part of someone’s corn field. That was a hoot. I couldn’t remember if that was actually part of the route or if John and Judy ad-libbed this section for us.

Not much happened between SAG 1 and SAG 2. Once we reached SAG 2 at George’s house, he fed us pizza and his son had what looked like a RAGING twelve foot tall bonfire going when we arrived. I really wasn’t sure about the pizza - I really don’t hold stuff down like that very well while riding - but it turned out to be just perfect. What could go wrong with a meat covered slice of pie? It was very humid at both the first two stops, I was dripping sweat and there wasn’t much of any breeze. I discarded extra things like gloves from my list of outerwear.

New guy, Matthew, seemed to be doing okay, but was visibly tired at the 43 mile mark. His speedometer had somehow missed recording 17 (or something) miles of the ride so far, so he was really worried that he felt so terrible after what looked like to him only 26 miles. On our way out, I had told Matthew “It’s a ride of attrition Matt. There was 7, then 5 and now just 4.” That may have worried him a little, he was trying to stay positive but I think he was feeling the reality of what would soon be his last segment of the ride. He had never done a century ride before so this would be his first attempt at that, and his first night ride to boot. Quite the challenge he set himself up with.

At some point I remember telling one of the new guys that things tend to get “nutty” around 2am, and this year was not unlike other Night Shifts in that regards. The “nutty” got real on our way to Belding. Matthew was struggling quite a bit. We were within 8 or so miles from SAG 3 and he was barely hanging on. Matt, Rick and I could ride two miles and look back for Matthew. He was gone. Nothing. No lights. We would all take turns waiting or riding back to check on him. And even when we did, he was getting quiet. At one point he was struggling to do 7mph on flat pavement. I spotted a church. I said “hey Matt, do you want to stop and pray for awhile?” He replied “there is not enough time to ask for forgiveness for all my wrongs.” Put “proper” preparation for a 100 mile mountain bike ride on that list. Ha ha. Just before this, I had sent SAG homebase (aka the “Crankwagen”) a warning about Matt fading quickly and perhaps to expect a new passenger.

Not long later, Rick was back riding with Matthew. Matt Longest and I were ahead riding together about 3 miles from SAG 3 when three dogs came TEARING out at us. They were upon us quickly, I did my usual loud yelling to get them to briefly hesitate giving us a gap, but that seemed to enrage them more and they kept persuing. Without having a helmet light, I couldn’t see what kind of dogs they were to know if I should be worried or not, so we both took off. As we seemed to begin to outrun them, one circled around and was all of a sudden in front of me. I panicked, turned my bars (I thought I was going to hit it) and like that, I was DOWN! All I could think about was having one (or several) begin grabbing and tearing at my limbs while I was trying to get up. Of course one foot was still clipped in and I couldn’t get out. Matt had stopped and circled back around to shine lights on me and them. Once I realized the dogs were standing down and just looking at me laying in the (very hard) dirt road and weren’t going to eat me alive, I did a body check and discovered I was bleeding badly from the knee and had various other scrapes and punctures on my hands and left forearm. By the time I got up to dust myself off the owner (or someone at the house) was getting in their pickup and leaving the scene. Not one word from them, nor did they approach us. In fact, they backed out and drove off in the other direction. I couldn’t tell, but I remember seeing a white Dodge pickup later, cruising past the Wesco - of which I stared down intently. They kept driving. Damn hicks. There were a lot of dogs out this year. What is the deal!? Got something to hide? Put your dogs away. Idiots.

Knowing the next stop was just a few miles away, we proceeded on. My knee was burning. It was ground down raw and gushing with every flex of my leg.

Let’s go back to when I said things get “nutty” around 2am. Yep, it didn’t end there. This was life at the Belding Wesco, 2 am. Knowing that each year seems to have it’s “highlight” moment, I cruised into the stop saying “we have our story for 2018”. I spent some time telling the story to the Crankshaw’s and my wife and rinsing the wounds with water. John even went inside to get some peroxide for me. T’was merely a flesh wound, it was going to take more than this to keep me from finishing the ride. In fact, now I had some anger to work out. Longest already had a nice, relaxing seat in Judy’s camp chair. He offered me the spot, I resisted at first then decided I probably should rest a little. After only sitting there for 30 seconds, POP! A chair rivet gave way and I was all of a sudden sitting crooked. Then BOOM, something else gave way, then SNAP, I was on the ground. HA HA...great, let’s add insult to injury here (literally). Sorry Judy, I crushed your chair. Everyone thought it was great comedic relief - leave it to me - but man, I was tired and now sitting on the ground.

Man down! Chair destroyed. (sorry Judy)  :-(

With that, I decided it was probably time for a full kit change inside the Wesco. I destroyed that bathroom too, rinsing my head and face in the sink. Also did a check on the wounds. Water and crap everywhere. I needed that badly though.

While I was away there was apparently discussion with Matthew about throwing in the towel. It sounded as if there was only one word answers coming from him at the time and maybe grunts and groans. He was bonked, bad. Ride of attrition, Matt. Nice work, you made it 58 miles. Not bad for your first attempt at a century ride. I hope you come back again to redeem yourself.

So now there was three.

But yet, before we left (I also missed seeing this) some greatly stoned dude filled his car up with gas, then proceeded to drive away. Luckily the nozzle jerked out from the side of his car and landing on the ground near the pump instead of getting torn away from the pump. What the hell!? Ha ha. We gotta get out of here quick.

Belding Wesco. You’ll forever hold a special place in our heart.

The rest of the ride was rather uneventful thankfully. Just lots of hills. We killed that next section arriving at the Lowell covered bridge for the final SAG (#4) quicker than the Crankwagen anticipated. That was a good stop. Cool, clear skies, nice pee break at river’s edge...and...Gravel Jacks!! (Judy’s customized twist on Sloppy Joes, the name coined in 2017). Matthew was passed out in the truck, apparently trying to become no-longer-bonked. Whatever he was doing he was sure steaming the place up.

There was a surprise in store yet for the riders after this stop. The first ever KOM (King of the Mountain) challenge. Prizes at the top for the winner. The Crankwagen picked out the perfect big hill for the race on Montcalm road - the first giant climb of the Lowell 50 race. A hill affectionately named “Rude Awakening” on Strava. With Patti and Judy at the top and John and Matthew at the bottom, us last three riders took off, headed for higher elevation. I hung with Matt Longest for about 50 feet then faded quickly. Then Matt was GONE, Rick following but not too close and then me, way back. I was gassed. Matt won a nice homemade KOM pennant flag (which John applied to his camelback backwards - which we said was M-O-K - as in “I’m OK”) and a full size KOM flag for display at camp/home.

Lightning speed finish at the KOM Challenge.

One of Matt's grand prizes for winning the KOM.

From there it was just more gravel and paved roads through Lowell. We didn’t get lost on the route until around mile 87 - probably a new record for us. We took a left instead of staying right/straight on the south side of the river past Lowell. (Montcalm again) It was a beautiful loooong downhill run - FAST on the fatbike. We got to the bottom  reliving the sweetness of that decent and BAM, smacked in the face with the realization we were off course. That’s not our road. We all looked back. There was no way we were climbing up THAT hill. So we paralleled where we were supposed to be and took the next right that would get us back on course.

Bad news. We still had a giant climb back to the route as we were still down in a river valley. There was no escaping the fact we had to do this. So we did. We put our heads down and began what seemed like a mile long climb. 8.5% grade. 9.2% grade. 9.6% grade. Oh god, when will this end!? We eventually made it - it was tiring, but we all decided it wasn’t that bad. I personally, lost the feeling in my legs at about mile 25 anyways, so what the hell?

Not far after that, the skies began to lighten. We were approaching dawn and within 8 miles of the finish. We only had a rail trail and few sloping climbs left to camp, one of them paved. We stayed the course and made it back to camp at what we felt like was early. (It was before 7am). Just before this time, I realized my bloody knee was now scabbing over (and weaving itself through) my spandex. That was fun to peel off once I hit the showers, and it was a sad, runny mess all day after. That's it. Night Shift #6 complete. 103 beautiful miles, almost 5100' of elevation gain. Not too shabby for one night's work.

Overall though, my nutrition and hydration was on point. Pre-event hydration is a big deal for me (I can’t operate low on fluid and often takes me days to ramp up to what I need before a race or long ride like this). I was stressing about my hydration status all week as it was really hot and humid - there was lots of sweating at camp and at the beach leading up to the ride - I drank nearly a gallon of water each of the two days before the ride and still didn’t feel like I had enough on reserves. I ended up feeling pretty good all evening/morning and didn’t cramp up even once. I had plenty of varied sources of fuel to keep me going, Heed, Endurolytes, Infint Tripwire, Redbull (for the caffeine), a few Hammer Gels and best of all, PayDay’s. Lots of water, sugars, proteins, caffeine. That’s all I need. And...apparently, a slice of greasy pizza. (Thanks again George.)

After a nice shower at camp, there was a 2 hour (much needed) nap, then a wonderful big breakfast for all riders and their families. It's always a good time to share stories and chuckle a little about our pain and agony. It was another great weekend for some crazy dudes (and ladies) of Night Shift. Thanks to all for coming to ride, or supporting us, or thinking about our safety and holding down camp while we were gone. I have a sneaking suspicion, we’ll do the same route next year. It was a good one. Come out and join us in 2019!! You have plenty of time to prepare!

This year's riders and crew: (L to R) - Gary, Craig, Rick, Judy, John,

George, me, Matt L, Mark and Matthew.

Rolling back into camp. Three hardy souls with aching butts. (I look really happy.)

The "display" version of Matt's winning effort on the KOM Challenge.
A Tour de France style KOM flag!

The beautiful Crankwagen post-event.