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When I was drawn for my first Ride the Rockies in 2003, I had serious cycling wardrobe shortage. I had not a single jersey or pair of cycling shorts, with about two months to correct the situation.
First thing I noticed, of course, is cycling clothing is not cheap. Unless you buy it on eBay. Which is where I bought my first jersey. US Postal had become The Blue Train, but this jersey was old news. And old fabric. Thick. Double knit. Hot. It came dirt cheap. $10. That included postage. I wore it as a Secret Weapon on Day Four to power me through the only century ride (100 miles) I've ever completed to date. This shot was snapped at Curecanti National Recreation Area by Olympic silver medalist Nelson Vails, who also participated in the 2003 Ride the Rockies.
My second jersey also came from eBay, and it wasn't particularly cheap, but I wasn't about to pass up the only "Let's Roll" Triple Bypass jersey I've ever seen for sale. I've never done the Triple Bypass and don't expect I'll ever be able to, so wearing this jersey never felt quite right. However, I'm deeply connected to the patriotism that blanketed America following the 9/11 attacks, I lost a friend and many business acquaintances that day, and one of my closest friends translated "Let's Roll!: Ordinary People, Extraordinary Courage" into Braille. When The Lizard and I were dating (and riding Vail Pass, the final climb of the Triple), I gave him my "Let's Roll" jersey. He'd revealed he'd always wanted to ride the Triple Bypass. He's now completed the Triple several consecutive years, so he is a much more appropriate owner of "Let's Roll."
I picked up a couple of old Ride the Rockies jerseys on eBay, as well as an old San Francisco MS-150 jersey and a tattered Gary Fisher jersey. I would be riding a Gary Fisher "Marlin" mountain bike with knobby tires on my first Ride the Rockies because that's all I had.
The Gary Fisher jersey was symbolic in more ways than one. The original owner had shredded it in a nasty OTBSC crash he survived. I had a nasty crash while wearing it. A few years ago, I gave it to my grown adopted son, who confessed he'd always wanted a Gary Fisher "Sugar." He wore the jersey during the only group ride he's done with me since he became an adult, the Buena Vista Century. (I did a metric century or 65 miles, and he did 24 miles.) He later abandoned the jersey, but that's a soap opera I probably won't be sharing any time soon.
The Gary Fisher jersey brought me to six in 2003, the number I would need for my first weeklong tour (because we had a rest day that year). Then I found out entry fees in most rides include jerseys. The Swiss cheese Gary Fisher jersey would get to stay in the closet. I received my first-ever earned jersey when I did the Elephant Rock as training for the just-two-weeks away Ride the Rockies. This was my favorite jersey for many years because it was the first one I earned. It's still a favorite now because you don't seen many of these anymore.
At RtR check-in, I received my first earned Ride the Rockies jersey. I bought shorts to match. This set continues to be a sentimental favorite because it was my first weeklong tour and the first time I'd been successful in the RtR lottery. Because of personal things going on at the time, the 2003 Ride the Rockies marked a turning point in my life. A new beginning.
This particular Ride the Rockies jersey taught me to check the inside of the collars for secret messages...
In each host town of Ride the Rockies, merchants set up booths to sell all sorts of cycling gear, including jerseys. Including discontinued jerseys. Being from New Mexico, I couldn't resist this gem for a whopping $20. The roadrunner is the New Mexico state bird. I've always loved the zia (on both sleeves), a Native American symbol for the sun, because it's easy to draw, embroider, quilt and crochet. (BIG grin!) Plus, this jersey taught me to look inside the back pockets for MORE secret messages! (A practice Primal Wear sadly has now abandoned...)
A week after my first RtR came the MS-150 and another earned (albeit paid-for) jersey; this time, a team jersey. But I never felt part of the now defunct team. No one talked to me at the team lunch and team tent either day. Team members passed me by without so much as even acknowledging me when I flatted on Day 1. I have no pictures of that jersey. I gave it away. Because I wanted to throw it away. I'm on a team now that loves and cares about both The Lizard and me. We get a new jersey every couple of years or so. Free. We LOVE Team Great West!
When The Lizard and I began dating, I thought we should have matching jerseys, since most of our dates were rides. I bought a pair of Sobe jerseys, for obvious reasons, and we still wear them once in a while. Sometimes even on the same ride!
We have many matching jerseys now, and sometimes we try to match. But sometimes we wear the jersey that will inspire and motivate us for a particular ride, and we each have different favorites.
His favorite is his Kokopelli jersey, which is not earned, just a Christmas present two or three years ago. I'm sure this year's Double Triple Bypass will be even more special because of the amount of training and hard work that will go into completing 240 miles and six mountain passes in two days.
My favorite is the commemorative 25th anniversary jersey from last year's Ride the Rockies. It's not the official jersey, which may be one of the reasons this one is my fav. Not everyone bought the commemorative jersey; the economy limited a lot of surplus spending last year. So there aren't as many of these out there.
The Lizard has one, too. And this is one jersey we do often wear the same day. It makes us a perfect pair.
The stages of the USA Pro Cycling Challenge (aka Tour of Colorado) have been announced!
They're doing TWO 12,000-foot stages in ONE day. !!!
I did DIRT ROAD Cottonwood Pass on my first Ride the Rockies. I try to do Independence Pass before it opens to traffic every spring.
I've never done both passes in a day and confess it would take a lot more than I could ever muster to be able to RACE this Queen Stage!
Note: About four years ago, I was invited to write a monthly column for a national electronic magazine, or ezine. I was overwhelmingly excited, but I was afraid I might get writer’s cramp. So I stocked up on articles to make sure I always had something to submit, just in case. Unfortunately, after a few months, the ezine repeatedly kept "losing" my submissions. After seven months, I gave up and quit submitting. They never asked what happened, so I assume my writing didn’t fit their style, and they didn’t have the guts and/or time to tell me.
The following article is one I wrote to stock up. It may not fit the ezine’s agenda, but I still like it to this day. I am sharing it now because I had planned to donate my hair again this week, prior to Ride the Rockies to make hair care easier during a demanding and physical bicycle vacation. When we decided not to do Ride the Rockies this year, The Lizard asked if I will hold off a bit on cutting my hair. Because he likes it long! I will still donate it, but I'll wait until... one day.
Those of you who read my blog regularly may recognize my friend Shonna in this post. Shonna's valiant battle with ovarian cancer ended last January.
* * *
Five months after I donated 14 inches of my baby-fine, blonde hair to Locks of Love, one of my dearest friends was diagnosed with cancer and faced surgery and then a battery of chemotherapy treatments.
It was difficult for me to picture her with a naked head. That didn’t fit her personality. But I could imagine her wearing my hair. If only my timing hadn’t been so off.
I don’t regret donating my hair to a young stranger I likely will never meet. The hairdresser who whacked away at my tresses told me hair charities typically don’t receive much blonde hair from adults. “It’s too hard to grow long,” she told me. No kidding!
Mine had taken six years to reach the middle of my back. I spent the two weeks after my haircut complaining to co-workers, friends and anyone else who might listen that my hair bled when it was cut. The process felt like surgery, I whined. I didn’t think the remains of my severed hair would ever heal.
But deep down inside, I knew a little kid somewhere would have a full head of childlike blonde hair. Long hair. Pony tails and braids!
Even with the fresh, new two inches that had grown since my amputation, I still didn’t have enough hair length to donate to my dear friend.
Unless I shaved it all off at the roots...
My stomach turned when I overheard a newscast reporting and speculating the reasons why a popular celebrity shaved her head. Then the following day, reporters were jamming the day’s news with updates on the trend this now bald celebrity ignited. Hadn’t we already survived a shiny-top stage like this just a few years earlier?
I hoped this new trend wouldn’t get swept out the salon’s backdoor with the trash. I hoped fad followers who decided to make this Picardesque fashion statement and hairdressers assisting in the revolution would handle those discarded manes with tender loving care, braid them up and mail them directly to the charity of choice, without passing Go and without bowing to the temptation to sell them in an online auction (unless they planned to donate the money they received to charity).
One head’s trash is another head’s treasure. Plenty of cancer patients literally would jump, swim or fly for the chance to collect freshly shorn scalp coverings.
I remember the first time I heard about people shaving their heads in support of a chemotherapy patient. An entire family, dad and kids alike — some of them even teenagers — shed their hair to show support for their mom, who had just undergone radical surgery and had to face the loss of even more of herself.
It wasn’t long before many people began making the same sacrifice for cancer victims they cared about and loved. A whole office of attorneys did it for a co-worker. A football team did it for one of their players. A principal did it for one of his students.
Since I couldn’t give my hair to my dear friend, I decided to make a warm and decorative hat for her. Here in Colorado, winter calls for such accessories. My friend had quipped she hoped her hair would grow back red and spiky. So I bought the loudest shade of red yarn with the softest fibers I could find, and two days later, I was wrapping a custom-crocheted hat, complete with pearl-decked sparkly crocheted flowers on the rim, to present to my friend.
The hat didn’t quite fill the cheerfully colored gift bag. My friend had shared several memories of the long hair she sported in childhood, including tales of experiments with color. The brighter the better! I decided another hat might be in order.
Out of my stash came remnants from a hot pink stuffed animal I’d crocheted for a niece years earlier and orange and peach leftovers from a springy afghan I’d made for a bride. Within hours, I’d constructed another hat, and on this one, I placed long, braided tresses of fluorescent-hued yarn, tied with a bright orange ribbon. My friend would be able to wear this hat in a blizzard to keep her ears super warm. Aircraft would be able to see her through the lowest visibility.
My gifts created a bit of a craze in my social circle; soon everyone was knitting and crocheting hats for our now hairless friend. Blue hats, green hats, striped hats, fuzzy hats. We couldn’t give hair, but we found something we could give.
Sometimes there exists a tendency to shy away from asking for help. We don’t want to be a burden to another, or we may be hesitant to admit we can’t make it on our own.
Initially, this friend didn’t want anyone to know what she was going through. An independent soul who often gave her time, talents and resources to help others, she didn’t want anyone to know she was ill or even struggling. As chemo treatments wore on, it became necessary to bring more and more friends into the service corps. Soon, everyone knew, and we all became closer. We even enlarged our circle when curious onlookers asked why we were making so many hats. All of us rallied together for my friend’s health, comfort and well-being.
My friend is now on her second bout with cancer, and she’s going through yet another dreadful round of chemo treatments. She gave away a lot of the first-round hats to other chemo patients when she thought she was done. But she clung onto that red one.
It is still her favorite. She often wears it to bed. She has even worn it to chemo.
I think she’s trying to start yet another eccentricity. Too bad the red hat society has already been invented!* * *
Note: In the past, my hair has been donated to Locks of Love. Another friend recently encouraged me to research where donated hair really goes, and I was quite alarmed by what I found. Below are links so you may make your own choice if you opt to donate your hair to charity. One editorial article I found suggested selling hair and then donating the money received to organizations supporting cancer patients rather than donating hair. I investigated that route, too, and actually have no interest whatsoever in the time-consuming task of trying to sell my hair. I've also been told some kids prefer hats to wigs because hats are more comfortable, easier to take care of and easily changed when the color or style gets boring. As a result of my investigation and postponement, I have a little more time to decide who will get my hair when I cut it. In the meantime, I plan to donate more charity hats. For the rest of my life.
Matter of Trust also accepted hair at one time, but they currently have a rather large wait list. Matter of Trust uses hair to help clean oil spills, so donated hair is not subject to the strict requirements of the other charities.
Cycling season is in full gear now, and Father's Day is just around the corner. Last year I had an idea for a Father's Day flake I didn't have time to work out then, so I hastily crocheted the Six Ties for Dad snowflake, which actually turned out far better than I expected.
Now I'm in the same boat, well, on the same bike again this year. I haven't had time to work with last year's idea. I came up with two more options. Name a flake I'd already designed after Father Dyer Peak, or finally start writing my crocheted bicycle pattern and use the wheel as a kind-of, halfway, sort-of, distantly connected Father's Day snowflake. Because some dads like to bike...
I couldn't decide what to do, so I asked The Lizard.
"Finish up your golf club flake," he suggested.
I guess that means the other two ideas don't cut the mustard!
So, I finished the prototype snowflake, pinned and glued it, then asked The Lizard what he thought.
"Oh, that looks great!" he said.
"Are you sure?"
"Why? What's wrong with it?" He had that same expression guys display when they've accidentally said the wrong thing after their gals ask if something makes them look fat or if they are wearing the right color or if their hair is right.
"It doesn't really look like a snowflake," I complained.
"No, it doesn't," The Lizard replied. "But it looks like golf clubs."
Back to the drawing board. My second attempt is more acceptable to me, and The Lizard still likes it, even though he doesn't golf. The second one looks a bit more like putt putt golf than real golf to me, but it still looks like golf clubs, so I'm happy, AND it looks like a snowflake. Sort of. Even better is one of each, stacked and glued, for a 12-point snowflake. I'm including both sets of instructions because Dolores likes to make all versions of my snowflakes, including the ones I consider Fails.
I thought about naming this snowflake after a golf course. At one time, I had to do disclosure for every golf course in Colorado, so I'm familiar with most of them, even though I don't golf. I even have a favorite... Arrowhead, shown above, where I've shot a few weddings. It's one of the most beautiful backdrops I've used in portraiture, but to me, a snowflake with the name Arrowhead should at least look like an arrowhead, so I'll work on that one in the future. As a result, today's goofy (or golfy) snowflake is going to get a goofy (or golfy) name: Six Golf Clubs for Dad.
My suggestion is to give Dad more than just this snowflake. Attach it to a box of brand new golf balls.
You've heard of "Dirty Dancing," right? We have Dirty Golf Clubs! This spotty thread has a story behind it. I'll share the tale and photos of how it happened in an upcoming snowflake pattern.
And check this out. You can use this pattern to make fringe, bunting or prayer flags. (huge grin)
You may do whatever you'd like with snowflakes you make from this pattern, but you may not sell or republish the pattern. Thanks, and enjoy!
Finished Size: 6 inches and 4 inches from point to point
Materials: Size 10 crochet thread, size 7 crochet hook, empty pizza box, wax paper or plastic wrap, cellophane tape, glue, water, glitter, small container for glue/water mixture, paintbrush, stick pins that won't be used later for sewing, clear thread or fishing line
Six Golf Clubs for Dad Snowflake Instructions
NOTE: This snowflake is not worked in the round. Also, I did not glitter this snowflake.
Big Golf Club Flake
*Ch 25, 1 sc in 2nd ch from hook, 1 sc in each of next 3 ch, ch 1, turn, 1 sc in each of next 2 sc, bring up loop through each of next 2 sc, yo and draw through all three loops on hook (dec made), DO NOT ch 1, turn, 1 sc in each of next 3 sc, sk next ch in starting ch 25 and 1 sc in each of next 14 ch, 1 dc in each of next 5 ch; repeat from * around 5 times; taking care not to twist work, sl st in starting ch; bind off. Weave in ends.
If you're not reading this pattern on Snowcatcher, you're not reading the designer's blog. Please go here to see the original.
Small Golf Club Flake
*Ch 15, 1 sc in 2nd ch from hook, 1 sc in each of next 3 ch, ch 1, turn, 1 sc in each of next 2 sc, bring up loop through each of next 2 sc, yo and draw through all three loops on hook (dec made), DO NOT ch 1, turn, 1 sc in each of next 3 sc, sk next ch in starting ch 15 and 1 sc in each of next 5 ch, 1 dc in each of next 4 ch; repeat from * around 5 times; taking care not to twist work, sl st in starting ch; bind off. Weave in ends.
Finish: Tape wax paper or plastic wrap to top of empty pizza box. Pin snowflake to box on top of wax paper or plastic wrap.
Mix a few drops of water with a teaspoon of glue in small washable container. Paint snowflake with glue mixture. Sprinkle lightly with glitter. Wash paintbrush and container thoroughly. Allow snowflake to dry at least 24 hours. Remove pins. Gently peel snowflake from wax paper or plastic wrap. Attach 10-inch clear thread to one spoke, weaving in end. Wrap fishing line around tree branch (or tape to ceiling or any overhead surface) and watch the snowflake twirl freely whenever you walk by! Snowflake also may be taped to window or tied to doorknob or cabinet handle.
Work like you don't need the money.
Love like you've never been hurt.
Dance like nobody's watching.
Sing like nobody's listening.
"Pedal like you're burning calories."(that last line by me)***
Fat Cyclist has a list of favorite climbing songs.
Indoor Cycling has a spinning music database.
About.com has a tune list with tons of additional reader suggestions in the comments.
These are all acceptable, and they provide enough variety to meet the tastes of just about any music lover. Nevertheless, it's now time for me to join the club and list ingredients in one of my Pikes Peak Summit secret weapons.
I'm compiling a special mix I will get to listen to only on Assault on the Peak day, and only on the final 12 miles. I will carry my phone and mini speakers during my summit bid (I NEVER wear earbuds while riding), and the music choices will range from classical to gospel to rock to soundtracks.
Just about anything by Van Halen, Led Zepplin, Aerosmith, Queensryche, Scorpions and a host of other oldie but goodie bands serve me well when riding. Instrumental, however, often pushes me up and over on my most difficult rides. It must have something to do with the marching sensation that kicks in whenever I hear favorite soundtracks, David Garrett or Jesse Cook.
(During last weekend's training ascent of Deer Creek Canyon, a group of extremely fast cyclists whizzed by me and then slowed to listen to the rest of the Led Zep ditty currently playing. One guy even danced on his pedals. The group called out, "Good tunes!" at the end, then motored on up and were well on their way back down to the bottom of the canyon before I ever reached the top.)
October through March, I can listen to Trans Siberian Orchestra almost non-stop. And then in April I finally get tired of it until after the aspen leaves turn gold again.
Haik Naltchayan is likely to power me up at least some of the mountain before I reach treeline. I can listen to "24 Solo" and "Off Road to Athens" soundtracks endlessly when I'm on my bike. I wish the entire soundtracks for both "Race Across the Sky" movies were available. A few of the lesser-known tunes from APM Music would be on my phone.
Sometimes, I just like a song. Stevie Wonder will be on my list. He makes me want to get up and dance. I may need that impetus on Pikes!
Sometimes it's the lyrics. Sometimes it's modified lyrics. And sometimes, I don't know why a song works on my adrenaline the way it does, but if it does, by golly, it gets to come along, too.
My phone has 240 songs, but only half of these make the training mix I call Climbing Music, which I'll listen to until treeline on Summit Day. The climbing mix will be whittled down to about 30 by August for Pikes Peak. I expect the final 8 miles of the climb to take at least two hours (yes, I'm THAT slow), so I'll get to hear the special songs two or three times each. These are my likely choices for my Summit Mix as of my first uber high altitude ascent of the year last weekend:
30. "Back in the Saddle Again" by Aerosmith (self-explanatory)
29. "High Hopes" by Pink Floyd (self-explanatory)
28. "Kashmir" by David Garrett
27. "Stairway to Heaven" by Rodrigo y Gabriela (climbing, climbing...)
26. "Change of Heart" by Cyndi Lauper (literally, I'll be needing a heart transplant...)
25. "Sunglasses at Night" by Cory Hart (because sunglasses keep annoying bugs out of eyes when riding at dawn and dusk)
24. "Show Must Go On" by Queen (yesiree)
23. "Don't Fight It" by Kenny Loggins and Steve Perry ("It will do your heart so good!")
22. "Keep Pushing" by REO Speedwagon (no better lyrics than that)
21. "Superstition" by Stevie Wonder
20. "Danger Zone" by Kenny Loggins (30 mph winds at 14,000 feet)
19. "Deeper Still" by Jericho Road (Ken Chlouber preaches "Dig Deep" throughout the "Race Across the Sky" movies)
18. "Escaping the Smokers" (Track 2) by James Newton Howard, "Waterworld" soundtrack (I've never seen the movie, but I love the soundtrack. It always reminds me of high school band marching season.)
17. "Tempest" by Jesse Cook
16. "Don't Tell Me What Love Can Do" by Van Halen (don't tell me what SAG can do)
15. "Crying in the Rain" by Whitesnake (been there, done that...)
14. "Stairway to Heaven" by Led Zepplin ("and she's climbing the stairway to" ...)
13. "War/Fanfare" by Vince Dicolla, "Rocky IV" soundtrack (super motivational)
12. "Smooth Criminal" by David Garrett
11. "Kashmir" by Led Zepplin (because there's almost nothing better than the real thing)
10. "Epic" by Faith No More
9. "Thunderstruck" by David Garrett
8. "Underwater March" (Track 13) by Klaus Badelt, "Pirates of the Caribbean" soundtrack
7. "Vivaldi vs. Vertigo" by David Garrett
6. "Kashmir" by William Joseph
5. "The Fifth" by David Garrett
4. "Daredevil Descent" by Haik Naltchayan, "Chasing Legends" soundtrack
3. "Mirror Mirror" by Def Leppard
2. "Going Through Changes" by Army of Me (an ode to the band name, but also full disclosure... "this is not painless")
1. "The Mountains" by Haik Naltchayan, "Chasing Legends" soundtrack
Just barely missing the list is Aerosmith's "Dream On." I love the song, and it's angry enough to make me keep pedaling, but after last year's failure, I'm not tackling this year's climb with any "Dream On" sentiment. I intend my summit dream to come true in 2011.
Christopher Cross' "Ride Like the Wind" is another powerful and Colorado-appropriate song I love, but I'm not taking any chances. Same goes for Scorpions' "Winds of Change," Kansas' "Dust in the Wind" and REO Speedwagon's "Riding the Storm Out." (Peter Frampton's and Styx' "Show Me the Way" sound too much like "Blow Me Away.") No wind is invited this Assault!
Oh, and PS: Yes, I sing on the bike. I sing loud. I sing like no one is listening. Because no one is listening...
