My BRAG Peeps.....

This is absolutely the last BRAG-related post you will have to read.

Until the next one.

This one, though, is about what makes us return to BRAG over and over again (me for the 19th consecutive time this year....what is WRONG with me?).

It's the people.

Sadly, I don't have pictures of everyone I would like to include. Either I didn't run into them when it was convenient, I had an inexplicable bout of shyness and didn't ask permission to take their pictures, or we were at a rest stop and the bike (with the camera) was waaaaaaaaaaaaaay over there.

First off is my stoker, Katydid. She powers the tandem and signals turns....when I remember to tell her one is coming up. She agrees to stop (not that she has much choice) when I simply need to take a break, and she doesn't mind stopping just a half mile further down the road because I have a bug in my eye.

Walt is the gentleman on the right in the picture below. He used to be the assistant ride director, but he gave up that position and now he just rides. I have my theories as to why he gave up being assistant ride director, but I'll keep them to myself. He and his wife ride a tandem, but she won't ride in months that don't have an "R" in them. He has always been good to both Katydid and me, even the time we went to him in tears because we couldn't find the shuttle to the hotels.


In the picture below, the gentleman on the left is named Clyde. I see him every year, and every year he blushes and apologizes because he can't remember my name. By the end of the week he's got it, but it won't stick. Next year he won't remember again. I'm going to ask him what his daughter's name is and then just tell him that's my name too. He bought me dinner on BRAG one time after I piled into a Jeep with Linda, Clyde, Wayne, and Fred. This photo was taken at Rest Stop #2 on a very tough day. We had ridden almost 20 miles in complete and total desolation, and then we TURNED AROUND at this spot and rode the same terrain back. Yuck. I didn't see Clyde after this rest stop, and he explained later that he did the U-turn, rode 4.5 miles, realized he had left his water bottle (did I mention desolation?), and had to turn around and go back. Those were NOT 9 miles you would want to repeat.

I posted about the gentleman below last week. His name is Bob, and he's the one from Australia who had his country written upside down on his license plate. He said he was originally from about 10 miles outside Melbourne, but he moved to Brisbane after he retired. He referred to Brisbane as "God's waiting room." I'm not familiar with that expression, so I don't know if he meant that it's a wonderful place to live (as in "God's country") or if that's just where people go to die. Bob's rider number was 200, a fairly early number, so it seems that he came over here from Australia just to ride in BRAG. I find that pretty amazing.





Below is Miles, our favorite photographer. He has been a fixture on BRAG for as long as I can remember. In the old days, he positioned himself by the road and snapped pictures of riders as they came by, then he drove (or biked) into town to find a one-hour photo service, went back to camp and hung his pictures up, charging $4.00 (I think it's up to $6.00 now) for a single 4x6 print. Some of his methods are still the same, but he has gone digital, and he allows cyclists to sit down at his computer and see if they can find themselves. He still has many of them printed out and hanging, because seeing the actual picture is obviously a quicker sale. Miles is a grumpy sort, and you sort of have to baby him. Katydid and I have always gone out of our way to be nice to him. When I was riding alone, I would often stop my bike when I saw Miles, just to chat for a couple of minutes. It cost me very little in terms of time, and it went a long way in making Miles a little less grumpy. One day last week when we rode by, Miles yelled, "I've got a surprise for you two!" We went to see him in camp, and he gave us an 8x10 print of us on the tandem. For free. And all we have ever done is be nice to him, sit and chat with him, and occasionally help him put 200-300 photos in clear plastic sleeves.




The picture below is further proof that it's a small world. Not long after she went into the Navy, Sweet Girl was in a terrible automobile accident in South Georgia. She was mercifully not severely injured, but she did have some scrapes and cuts, so they took her to a hospital in Savannah because that's where my mother lived at the time. The nurse who took care of her asked where she was from, and when Sweet Girl told her, the nurse replied that she had gone through our town on BRAG. She has been riding BRAG since it was called GASBE, more than thirty years ago. When I found out how many times she had ridden BRAG, I included her in my dissertation research and went to Savannah to interview her. She told Katydid and me last week that she thought last year's BRAG would be her "grand finale," but she did so well that she decided to continue this year. At the age of 72. Granted she didn't ride every single mile, but she did some long 12-14 mile legs of ups and downs in some brutal heat. And I have never seen her be anything but pleasant. She's my inspiration.




Finally, one of my best buds, Rozmo. Roz has been working part-time for BRAG for the last several years, and I really miss riding with her. She drove the RV for us last week, and there is no way I can express my gratitude for that. But I'm going to try. Rozmo has a wonderful way with people and is a very calm influence. She is rational when others are emotional and has a knack for saying what people need to hear. She makes a point to compliment parents when their children are well-behaved because she knows that is what parents like to hear. She's not always exactly subtle, though. The very first time I ever captained a tandem, she willingly jumped on the back, completely trusting (or blissfully unaware that I had no clue as to what I was doing). When she wanted me to change gears, she smacked me on top of my helmet. I tried everything in my power to figure out what gear she wanted BEFORE she could smack me on the helmet. It kind of hurt. Rozmo is simply awesome. And she's NOT going to love me for posting this picture of her. This picture was made after the laundry debacle.



Speaking of the laundry debacle, I lied when I told the nice gentleman that I was only taking pictures for my own personal benefit. My plan all along was to post them on this blog to illustrate some of the ways that good intentions can go very wrong.

In our layover town, some organization offered a laundry service. They provided a laundry bag, and cyclists put their dirty, smelly, sweaty clothes in the bag. The bags were then dumped into (I'm guessing here) a huge industrial-sized washing machine and dryer, the bag keeping the clothes all together in one place.

Only one problem.

The bags didn't stay closed.







Cyclists had to come into a big warehouse-type room and pick through the laundry piece by piece to claim theirs.


The last night of BRAG, there were still two tables full of unclaimed laundry. Some of it was nice biking clothes too. A good cycling jersey runs in the neighborhood of $75, and people didn't claim them? Cycling shorts .... at LEAST $50.

How embarrassing. I'm sure this wouldn't be nearly as funny if some of that laundry happened to be mine.

Arrrrrrrrgggggghhhhhhh.........

Blogger is giving me fits uploading pictures tonight. I have the post all written, but it's talking about BRAG people, and without the photos it's..... pretty meaningless.

I will try again tomorrow.

BRAG Day Seven......

It feels strange for BRAG to be over so suddenly. We plan for it for months (not to be confused with TRAINING for it, mind you), talk about it incessantly, and then **poof** it's over with. I will post about some of the wonderful people I've met through the years. I only see them once a year during the week of BRAG, but we consider each other friends. I tried to take some pictures today of a few special folks, but I haven't downloaded them yet.

Katydid and I have come to the conclusion that taking the RV on BRAG is absolutely the way to go. I told Hubby on the phone today that if we never used it for anything else, it was a worthwhile purchase just to use it for BRAG. But we probably WILL use it for other trips.

This is how our post-ride routine used to go, back when we tent camped:

• Get into camp from a 60-mile ride in 90-degree heat.

• Look for the luggage truck.

• Search among 4,000 bags (that's not one of my classic exaggerations either, since there were 2 bags for each of approximately 2,000 riders) for our bags, on which we had tied colorful, distinctive ribbons or bandannas so we could identify them. Never mind that 1,998 other folks had ALSO tied colorful, distinctive ribbons or bandannas to THEIR bags.

• Drag our bags to whatever spot we could find to pitch a tent. Shade was preferable but usually non-existent. Near a tree or a fence (to use both as a bike leaning point and a clothesline) was also good, but not often available.

• Pitch our tent in the heat.

• Go in search of something to drink. Pay for a water or a Gatorade at a booster club concession stand.

• Find a snack, usually at same concession stand.

• Return to tent and get clean clothes.

• Find the shower truck.

• Shower and return to the tent, by which point we were sweaty again.

• Search for a cool place inside to take a nap, or crawl into a sweltering tent and try to sleep with all the noise and heat.

• Search for the computer lab, if the school allowed us to use them, to check email.

• Get up after a short nap (or an attempt at one) and find the shuttle to take us to a nearby restaurant.

• Return to camp and wait for sundown so it would be bearable in the tent.

• Make our beds with sleeping bags and air mattresses and hope the mattresses held air all night long. If they didn't, get up numerous times in the night to pump them up again. Endearing yourself to all your neighbors.

• Sweat until we fell asleep.

• Wake up just as tired as when we went to bed and do it all over again.

This is how our post-ride routine was this past week with the RV:

• Get into camp from a 60-mile ride in 90-degree heat.

• Find where Rozmo parked the RV, unless she has already called and left a message about where to find it.

• Park the bike and unlock the door.

• Start the generator and turn on the air conditioner.

• Put up the curtain and pull down the window shades.

• Reach into the refrigerator for a cold Gatorade.

• Reach into the cabinet for our choice of snacks.

• Gather our clothes for shower.

• Find shower truck or indoor showers.

• Return to the RV, where it is now cool and comfortable.

• Get out the laptop and sign on to the internet using a connect card.

• Take a nap in cool, air conditioned comfort.

• Wake up and play a video game.

• Reach into the refrigerator for a cold .... beverage.

• Have another snack from the cabinet.

• Investigate dinner options.

• Find the shuttle to take us to a nearby restaurant.

• Return to the RV and find something on television (where we had reception).

• Go to sleep in a comfortable bed, having to use a blanket because of the air conditioning.

• Wake up rested and prepare for the next day's ride. After the coffee finished brewing.

This year we had enough fresh water left in the tank for us even to shower in the RV, avoiding the lines and the masses of people who would be showering in the school. It was only an hour and a half home, so coming home without showering wouldn't have been devastating, but it was nice to come home clean. It was a little weird, however, showering in a parking lot. At a Catholic high school, no less.

It's good to be home. The RV is unpacked and laundry is COMPLETELY done. When Hubby gets home tomorrow, all will return to normal.

Thank you for tolerating my tunnel-visioned blog posting for the past week. I'll try to be a little more original. Until BRAG 2011.

BRAG Day Six......

Before I get to high points and low points for today, I'd like to offer my profound thoughts for the whole week. You're welcome.

When you're riding a bicycle for hours and hours and hours, you notice a lot of things on the side of the road. Actually, you notice a lot of things ON the road. If you've never ridden a bicycle long distances, you might be completely (and blissfully) unaware of just how much information is WRITTEN on the road. I don't know what a lot of it means. My favorite is the word "Sign" painted on the road with an arrow pointing to...... you guessed it..... a sign. Every time we go by that, I say, "Well, yes it is."

Unfortunately, there is also a lot of trash on the sides of the road. We used to see strands of cassette tape strung out along the road, but we don't see that so much anymore. We see the occasional random CD, but nothing like the number of cassette tape innards we used to see.

I have come to the conclusion that the trash on the sides of the road represents only things that are bad for you: cigarette packs, beer cans, soda cups, liquor bottles, fast food bags. I have yet to see an empty vitamin bottle that has been thrown from a car window. Neither do I see NutriGrain bar wrappers. Or even salad containers. In considering people who throw trash out on the side of the road, there must be some connection between the way they treat their bodies and the way they treat the environment.

I'm just sayin'.

High Points for today:

• Seeing 11.11, 22.22, and 33.33 on the bike computer.
• Missing 44.44 because we were screaming into camp at 11:00.
• Screaming into camp at 11:00 because of a shortcut that was mentioned on the route map (and thus sanctioned, at least in our way of thinking) that cut off 20 miles.
• Sharing the information about said shortcut with the unknowing at a couple of the rest stops. Reluctantly, because they did have the option of reading their OWN damn route maps.
• Discovering that the majority of riders intended to do the shortcut, thus making me feel less guilty. Oh who am I kidding..... I'm over the feeling guilty thing. After 19 BRAGs, I don't have a thing to prove to anyone. I can skip the whole freakin' day if I want to.
• Having dinner with our big ol' nephew (he's 6'8" and looks taller than that) and his wife.

Low Points:

• Katydid having the same cleat issue I had earlier in the week. Luckily for her, we were already in camp, and she was able to take a screw out of another pair of shoes to repair her cleat.
• Heat.
• Humidity.
• Hills.

It is true this year just like every year:

As excited as I was to come, I am equally excited to be going home tomorrow. I'm glad we came, I'm always glad to ride, and I'm glad it's over. We're already planning for next year, and we don't even know the route yet. I'm thinking there may be a loud outcry for a southern (flat) route after the difficulty of this year's route.

BRAG is a lot like childbirth.

In the middle of it, you ask yourself, "What the hell was I thinking?"

And as soon as it's over, you say, "Well that wasn't so bad. I think I'll do it again."

BRAG Day Five.......

I took some (I hope) good pictures today, but frankly I'm just too exhausted to post them tonight. I'll try to remember either tomorrow night or after I get home. One is of the handiwork of Team Ocissus Via (and several people thought we were gross and disgusting just for stopping to take a picture of it). Another is of Bob, the sweet gentleman from Australia whose bike license plate I took a picture of the other day. I love having him go around us just so I can hear that wonderful accent say "On your left." Today he passed us and said, "Look, I'm even free wheeling!" I think that meant he was coasting.

Interestingly enough, I have a hard time eating enough on a bike ride. When we get to a rest stop, there's just so much to do: use the porta potty, wash hands, apply more sunscreen, apply more lip balm, take a few pictures, eat, drink, refill water bottles, and socialize. It's the socializing that gets me in trouble. I spend so much time talking that I run out of time to do the really important things. And believe it or not, when we get to a rest stop, I'm not really HUNGRY. I have to remind myself to eat so I'll have enough fuel to get through the day. I try to eat at least one peanut butter sandwich and a couple pieces of fruit, along with perhaps a cookie or two. Even at the lunch stop, we subsist only on rest stop fare. Gone are the days when we would have a full lunch because we thought we were supposed to eat that much.

Today's ride was extremely tough, but I'm not going to whine. I have to remind myself that no one forced me to be here, and the 4 H's of BRAG (heat, hills, humidity, headwinds) are just the nature of the beast. It is what it is.

High Points:

• Running into Doug, a guy we see on BRAG every year. When I asked where he had been all week, he said he just started today because he had been at Gay Days at Disney. By the time we left the rest stop, we were nearly rolling on the ground. He wanted to have dinner with us, but we couldn't find him when it was time to go.
  
• Talking to my nephew this morning and agreeing to have dinner with him and his wife tomorrow night. It's always a treat to meet up with family members on BRAG.
• Seeing 11.11, 22.22, 33.33, and 55.55 on the bike computer. I missed 44.44 because I was dodging a car I think. Not really. We were going downhill, though, and there was a car. It may have been a police car.
  
• Hearing that cyclists had been ticketed for not riding single file in traffic. Turns out there was a confrontation between an aggressive driver and some cyclists, but it was the motorist who got the citation. The officer did say, however, that he would ticket any cyclists riding more than two abreast or not riding single file when traffic was present. I would have been thrilled if they HAD ticketed some of them. Some cyclists think they can take over the road and not obey any of the rules. They make the rest of us look bad.

Low Points:

• Beginning the day with a flat tire, caused when the valve stem came out while we were trying to put air in.
  
• Heat.
• Hills.

BRAG Day Four.....

Today was our layover day, two nights in the same town. It's something BRAG started doing back in 2001, and personally I love it. It offers lots of options: ride a short ride, ride nothing and rest, do laundry, shop, whatever. It is also traditionally the day of the Century ride, 100 miles (103 this year) in a single ride.

We opted NOT to do the century. Not in this heat.

However, on a day when we could have chosen to stay in the motorhome and read, play video games, watch tv, or just rest, we chose to ride.

We chose the 55-mile route, which turned out to be 59 miles because we decided to venture out on our own and ride some additional miles on a path that we started out on. We were wandering all over a military base, always an excellent idea. That's just the way we roll. Ha ha ha ha ha ..... that's the way we roll ..... on a bicycle ride.

I'm hilarious.

We were not arrested, followed, or challenged in any way. That is a little disturbing, considering the level of security we are SUPPOSED to be under. We just rode our bright blue bike onto a military base, left the approved path, and got the attention of absolutely NO ONE. I guess they didn't think terrorists would be wearing spandex and pedaling a tandem.

High Points:

• Riding the first 8 miles and the last 8 miles on the Riverwalk. It's a path along the Chattahoochee River. We can throw a rock from our campsite to Alabama. We probably won't, though.
• Seeing 22.22, 33.33, 44.44, and 55.55 on the bike computer. Forgive me, it's my weird numbers thing rearing its ugly head again. I missed 11.11. I've missed it every day so far this week.
• Having the correct tool to repair my shoe cleat at the top of a hill.
  
• Finding the missing screw for the cleat still in the pedal. If we hadn't found the screw and/or had the correct tool, we would have had to get in a sag vehicle FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER and return to camp.
• Finishing.

Low Points:

• The cleat thing.

BRAG Day Three.........

We left again at 6:31 and arrived in camp around 1:30. Today was very much like yesterday, only 16 miles longer.

We had ham sandwiches immediately upon arriving in camp, then we went to find fuel for the motorhome. Since the generator runs off the fuel tank, I'm a little paranoid about letting it get too low. When we got back from the store we had chips and salsa and I had two beers. Then we went to dinner, where I had an awesome crab meat and shrimp pasta dish and two amaretto sours.

I wish I had realized at the beginning of the week that I could do this:



High Points:

Four miles of mostly downhill, where we hit a maximum of 42.9 mph. On a freakin' bicycle! This four miles led to the Flint River, and we stopped for a photo op. We also stopped because it was payback time.


Seeing these two chimneys AND making the decision to stop for a photo. I have mentioned before that I have a thing for old chimneys. Another rider came by while I was taking the picture, and I told her it was our great-grandparents' homestead. That sounded better than "I'm just retarded enough to take pictures of random chimneys."


Seeing this guy's bike tag. I laughed and laughed when he came around us because of the way he wrote his "hometown" on the tag. Then I had to sprint to catch up with him again so Katydid could see it. We finally caught up with him at a rest stop so I could take the picture.


Seeing this in front of a farm along the way. We probably would have stopped anyway, but it was a billion degrees and our **sitting down** parts were anxious for any excuse to get off the bike.

Low Points:

The worse-than-a-shake-n-bake road we were on for a couple of miles. It was riddled with potholes, loose gravel, and sand. Those are a cyclist's worst nightmare individually, much less all combined. It was slow going and dangerous in spots.

Missing the detour onto the bike path leading into Columbus. It isn't quite finished, so the markings weren't there. The bike path would have cut off 1.1 mile. 1.1 miles? How DO you say that? But we found the regular route and made it into camp, so it wasn't tragic. Not like the woman yesterday who missed a turn and started following the symbols for TODAY'S ride. She only rode 9 extra miles, and she has ridden her bike halfway across the country, so it couldn't have hurt her too much.

We are in the layover town, meaning we will spend two nights here. Tomorrow's rides are loop rides, so there are options for ride length. We aren't up to the century (actually 103 miles) in this heat, but we'll probably ride 55.

That sounds like a breeze, considering today's ride was 68.