The Day of Reckoning

Someone once said, "When the time for performance has come, the time for preparation is past." Today was the day for performance. The body has a great mechanism to prepare itself for such events, its called adrenaline. My problem is that it started the night before when trying to get the sleep it needed. In total, only about 4-5 hours were acquired, I wish that was required.

Start time was 6:31 allowing me enough time to get ready, eat and pack before heading out. Our group was to have more than 70 in number, but it turned out to be slightly over 50. Thinking that I dressed appropriately enough for the forecasted low, it seems a bit chilly. I hope I see everyone, it is still rather dark outside, barely any visible light from the morning sun.

A few quick warmup laps and its time to enter the stall. Hey, there is Eric Woolsey & Mike Austin. Where are the other guys? There they are, Wayne Smith, Mike Skousen, Dave Hatfield, Dave Funk and Dave Collins. Let's get a picture. Wow Kate is here too. Smile!

In a minute or two, we are off. Holy cow this is a big group. We have a police escort taking us to the edge of town. Time to position myself relative to Eric. Mike A will be at the front; I'll keep tabs on him. About ten minutes later we are outside of town on the way to Preston. The temp has dipped some more, it is closer to 34 degrees. Some are trying to warm their hands under their armpits. Although I'm chilly, it will be warmer once the sun comes up.

The first section of the race to Preston was mostly flat through farm communities. There were some shallow foggy areas where the water was warmer than the air. Finally, the sun is beginning to shine on the mountains to the west of us. Right on time, about a quarter after 7. Only 40 min or so to Preston at our current speed of approx 23.

Not a lot of fan fare in Preston as many opted to skip the stop and carry on to Strawberry Summit some 24 miles away. This is the longest climb of the day. We lost about a third of the pack at the first feed zone. Hope Dave, Dave, Dave, Mike S. and Wayne catch up. A mile or two later they caught us. Somehow I should have gotten word to them that we were taking an environmental break before the climb ahead. We are in the rollers now for a few more miles and so far our pace still seems pretty good averaging 16-18, but we still have the major part of the climb ahead. Overall, the grade is about 4-5% on average for about 20 miles. Only a few times did we drop below 10mph.

I was waiting for Mike A. and Eric to pull ahead on this part of the course but they ended up staying with me. As I began to approach the summit, Dave x 3 and Wayne slowed to wait for Mike S. They still passed me while I took a look at the surroundings; the previous stop wasn't long enough. Now I had some time to make up knowing these guys were fast descenders. I ended up passing a few people with a top speed in the neighborhood of 45. Before the final flat, I was able to blend in with them. Never loose the group (learned that at Chalk Creek).

Our group was met with another and we became in number about 50 again. Great group and good pace all the way to Montpelier. It will be good to stop and get refreshed, about 78 miles completed and two mountain passes remaining. The temp has warmed up quite a bit, people are shedding clothes.

Well, our little band formed up immediately after the 3rd feed zone. Hatfield was mumbling something to me from behind while I was eating a sandwich. If he had put as much energy in the bike as he did talking this morning, he would have been done already (it was actually refreshing having someone to listen to). As we moseyed toward the Geneva Summit, about 1,000 feet in 9 mi, last 2 close to 7%, I broke out ahead for a short time as the pace seemed a little slow, no one followed and was quickly re-absorbed. A lot of good that did. Summit completed, one more to go. The descent seemed to be over too quickly; I wish we could have had more rest at this pace, about 45 again on this descent, but it was soon on to climb 3.

By now, the legs are feeling a bit strained trying to maintain a good pace and breaking out of the pack wasn't the smartest idea. Our last climb, about 1,300 feet in 11 miles, the last 3, from 6-9%, put the hurt on as I stayed with Collins for a while and told him, "I'm tired." He beat me to the summit, climbing completed and 110 mi down, which again left me to chase them down. This time, top speed was just over 48 on the downside and Star Valley lived up to its tradition letting it's winds flow out of the north. This is not going to work when trying to chase them down. Finally caught on but started cramping on the inside of my left leg. I could not stay with them. It was disappointing seeing them move slowly away.

Hanging on until the next feed zone (#5) in Afton (mile 125), Kate mentioned that I was about three minutes behind. It was time for a consistent, sustained effort in order to not lose ground. It was going to be tough on my own. Heading out of town, another single rider and I teamed up and it looked like we had Eric and a couple of others ahead. I mentioned to him that we needed to catch them. At times it seemed like we were getting closer, but for some reason they stayed about the same distance.

Finally, another group of about 12 picked us up and we began gaining on them. After a few miles, we picked up Eric and the others and started chasing the forward group and now or band was close to 18. Our pace picked up to approx 23-24 but again, we dropped a few in Alpine at feed zone 6 (mile 158). I can now put all of this in perspective, only 50 miles to go. Just a weekday morning ride; I can do that.

The little band of about 12 moved on from the feed zone through Snake River Canyon. It sure is beautiful. That water looks extremely refreshing. Can we stop for just a minute? Another series of rollers conveyed us all the way to Hoback Junction. A bit of road construction said hello just before the junction (this jackhammering feels really comfortable at 180 miles). Yes, about 26 miles to go, 13 to Jackson, 13 to Teton Village. All systems go.

I did not notice Eric dropping off at Hoback, I wonder what happened. Do I proceed or turn back? I really want this to be over. Stay with the group.

There were a few more small hills on the way to Jackson and you can see the Tetons off in the distance. What a great motivator; not far to go. Hear we go again, my leg is cramping. I had to drop off the group, slow down and work it out. Well, on my own again, let's get this done. Only a few more miles to Jackson. There is a group of three, I'll latch on to them. They are moving at a slightly slower pace, but gives me a needed break. After the turnoff and a couple more miles, another group passes and I'm all over that. Sorry guys, thanks for helping, but I'm moving on.

There doesn't seem to be as much organization in this group of survivors, a few seem content to pull and I am content to draft. How's that for contribution. Pace is back up to 23 or so. We make the transition to the bike path and follow on through the underpass and continue left back onto Hwy 89; final leg. It will be close. Again, I am happy to be able to sit on the wheels of the guys in front. However, that pesky old cramp is coming back, I have to drop off again. Keep them within distance.

Final turn to the finish heading north, about 8 miles remaining. Is that a head wind or tail wind? Feels like head wind, but I'm moving at 22-23 mph, has to be a cross wind to slight tail wind. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Okay, 30 minutes left (until 10hrs) and about 8 miles to go. It's time to  push. We should make it around 9:53. My legs are burning trying to keep speed near 24, I will not be able to keep that up. I decide to back off a little and keep my speed between 22-23 for 1-2 minutes and take breaks near 20 for 30 to 45 seconds. That seems to be working well, no cramping. By my calculations, five miles left and a sign coming up, halla freaking lujah, 5km to finish. Soon, 4km c'mon 3km. 3km and I can see the finish. Steady the pace the rest of the way at about 22. I'll push harder a little closer in. 2km keep pace, 1km (emotions on the surface), the road is open only to cyclists from this point. Let's get it done, one last surge up to 28 gets me across the next 100+ yards and across the line. The time has got to be better than 9:53; I'm guessing 9:50.


 

Mike A watching as I cross the finish

Finally completed. Get me off this thing. A bottle of water, finishers medal and a search for those I lost. There is Geoff, he came in a couple of minutes ago. Our thoughts turn to Eric, there he is, just finished. Kate is coming, she was thoughtful enough to bring my street shoes. Get these others off and the helmet. Kate asks if I saw the time when I crossed, no I was just worried about getting here. It was 4:18, 9:47; better than expected. Where are the other guys? There they are. Hey guys, we need a picture. What great times, they finished 12 minutes earlier, awesome. Finally catch up with Mike A, he blew his goal out of the water, 9:45 goal, 9:22 finish - well done. Mike S. is still out but not far behind.

Dave, Wayne, Dave, Dave and me

What an epic ride. A culmination of months in training, mostly with the people mentioned previously, thanks for pushing me - great people. The sky was blue, winds were favorable and the temperature almost perfect - beautiful day. For the organizers of the ride, the volunteers, friends, spouses or others who followed us to Jackson, gave us fluids, food or mechanical help, thank you - terrific support. Kate ran the SAG wagon for me and took all the wonderful pictures, thank you honey for all of your dedication. As the slogan says, 206 miles, 3 states, 1 day. So it was.






Heading home looking back toward the finish around 5:30PM

 

Spring City, Sanpete County, Where is That?

Last Saturday's Desperado is still lingering with me, especially after two Alpine Loops this week. My original training plans were to accomplish about a 125 mile ride this Saturday, but when I contacted my buds in Salt Lake, they were planning on doing the Sanpete road race; it's 72 miles. "Where is that?", Thinking it was somewhere close. Oh, it's in Spring City, near Ephriam. Now why would I want to go all the way down there. My plan after Desperado was to come back to Utah County until Monday (8/30) and then go home. The thought came to me that I should head down that way, participate in the race and then travel home. That sounds like a good option, home two days early? That would make Kate happy. Would one more mountain ride on Monday make me that much incrementally better? Probably not, but I was still feeling gypt.

Plans revised, I pack the car and direct it south Sat morning for a new experience. Maybe I'll see them along the way as they are suppose to pass my location about the time I head out. The forecast was giving us a break from the rain, but it didn't say anything about the wind, well, perhaps a mild wind. Scattered clouds filled the sky and made for a pleasant sunrise.

An hour and a half later, I arrive in Spring City. Most of the available parking at the church is already filled. A quick check-in, there is Eric and Mike, change of clothes, food prep and I'm off to warm up. Not knowing how fast the group is going to begin, I get my heart rate up to about 165, I just want to be better prepared than Chalk Creek. Soon, we are released.

Slower start, that suits me fine. Mike is near the front and Eric closer to the back, I settle in behind Eric. The miles begin to tick off, 5 then 10. We are in Fairview and are approaching a right hand turn. Something says, "Take this wide." As I move out from behind Eric, someone hits this cone (unusually large and why they were placed in the road is beyond me), I see it fall over, but refocus on the turn and am out of the saddle to maintain position within the group. A little bit later, I notice Eric is not with us. Did he flat, did he crash? Wasn't sure, but felt bad as we pressed on.

The speed picked up a bit since the start and after a few more miles we're headed west, the wind picking up a bit from the south. As we begin the approach to 89, the pace increases with the intent to drop a few. Push, it will hurt, but stay with the group. Up the hill to Hwy 89 and a turn south. The wind has made itself clear that it would be a factor on this ride. Those in the front seem content to stay in the front. I'll hang in the rear where I need to recoup from trying to maintain that last little spurt.

Back to Mt Pleasant, north of  Spring City then we head west again to Moroni. The leaders push to minimize the number that follow. The wind is tossing me around with the 45mm rims I decided to run with today. I'm not the only one, several others have deep rims. I strain to stay with them. Soon, we are to Moroni and a much needed water re-fill. I notice that a person in front of me ejects his bottle toward two kids, standing on a corner. It continues to fly towards them and lands right between them; they were only a foot apart. I'm not sure whether to think, "How rude" or "How lucky".

The handups were a bit slow and soon the peleton made a burst down the hill following the road due north toward Fountain Green. Because I was on the end, I had some pressing to do to catch the wheel in front of me, the wind at our backs. Before, all of the surges were short efforts of no more than a mile or so. But come to find out, we were in pursuit  of two that made a breakaway. Our sustained speed over the next seven miles was 28 or so. The effort was enough for me to say, that is enough. No sooner was my thought than we made a broad u-turn back into the wind which kept us to about 15. Those two were shortly to be back with us.

I huddled behind a few people to conserve my energy for the next nine miles. Mike was a trooper and continued to take turns pulling. Another water stop and we began heading east. An interesting phenomenon occured, the group began breaking into two. Mike had backed off, he asked me where Eric was and could only say, "Not here, we lost him in Fairview". We accelerated to move into the lead group. For sure it was time for a move, only twelve miles to go. Our last turn south and everyone congregated due to the wind. So much for that.

We are approaching our final turn that will re-direct us back to the north. Mike is moving out ahead and one other follows. Hold steady. As we continue around the bend, we begin to make a climb. Mike begins to fall back, another small pack begins to move ahead. I'm already working at 90%, I don't think it is prudent to try and catch them, there are four to five miles remaining, we will need enough for a sprint. I catch up to Mike and give him a little push. We crest the hill and Mike and I take turns pulling. He came around someone who got upset from him being on his wheel. Welcome to racing.

I pull behind for a bit and then move to his left side attempting to slow down anyone who wants to go around. He deserves this more than I do. Not much further, there are about five or six of us. A truck passes us and stays in front creating a very hazardous situation as we set up for the sprint. In short order, a couple break out on both sides of us when the finish came into view. The truck begins to slow down, I do not want those two to get ahead. Mike backs off because of the truck. "Stay left" was imprinted on my brain. I firm my grip, raise up from the saddle and begin to pump, the truck drops by me on the right, I catch one but not the other and the line is crossed.

Mike and I catch up afterwards with some of his friends. We are trying to determine where Eric is. I decide to move the car closer to where we are and when I return, Eric is there. That cone in Fairview caused quite a raucus. Eric crashed and showed us his war wound. He tried to catch up but the peleton moved on faster than the individual. The strength of the wind caused him to drop about 30 min behind. The lesson learned this summer by me, the hard way is, the group is always stronger than the individual. Never fall from the group. We feed ourselves at the sponsored lunch and chat some more about the day. I excuse myself in order to make the 9 hour trip home. Next time I see them will be at Lotoja. I take a peak at the results and am shocked, 10th in our group of 30 that finished.

This was my first experience staying with the peleton through the entire route, except the last few miles. It is certain, that alone, progress is slower. Somehow, I felt as though my change of plans was the work of another hand. Why I felt to move to the outside of the line in Fairview is unresolved. Why I was sure the truck would stay right is unclear. But this much I am sure of, the impressions were undeniable. It was not to give me an advantage, more perhaps to keep me and others safe. Following the promptings of the Spirit, can always give us confidence to know where we stand.

Desperado, Why Don't you Come to Your Senses?

What a beautiful morning for the Desperado Dual. The eastward glow is getting brighter as time passes. I am already near the gathering point for the beginning of this ride. Start time is 6:30 for those daring to attempt the 200 mile option today. However, a group of friends from the Red Mountain Brumbys are here riding the century and they are heading out at the same time. What a privilege to be with them.

The sheriff's vehicle takes us east and then south to the 89/12 junction which leads to Bryce Canyon. The vehicle ensures we have a safe crossing of lanes to Hwy 12 and leaves the riders to their own fate. The air is crisp and the wind calm. The soft pink glow begins to warm the sky to a molten orange as we approach the climb into Bryce.

There is a lead group that is beginning to break away after the transition to the bike path and my dilemma sets in, stay with the group or hang with the Brumby's, whose jersey I'm sporting. Sterling (Brumby CRO, chief riding officer) said, "Go ahead." Thank you, I didn't feel as bad. We continued to climb and then had a short fast descent to the next turnoff. There were about 18 or so in our peloton and we pushed through John's Canyon heading north at a good clip of 27 or so.

At mile 57, in a little town called Antimony, there was a rest stop and I needed to refill on fluid and hit the john. Seeing others headed to the port a potty, I figured the line would go down after I took care of re-stocking. The line did go down and when I came out, everyone was gone. Just what I wanted to avoid, being on my own for the rest of the first half with the likely hood of facing headwinds in about 20 miles. I can either sit and stew about it or move on. After saddling up, there are two about a mile ahead. I pushed a bit to see if I could catch them, but they were cycling through their rotations to keep a strong pace. Backing off, I settled into a comfortable rhythm, thinking of where my friends might be.

This next section of the course, to rest stop 3, was uneventful. I could still see the two ahead of me,  surprisingly, about the same distance and was hoping to catch them at the upcoming stop (abt mile 80). Nothing doing, they either did not stop or made it very brief. Upon asking, I was told they were about 3-5 min ahead. Another refuel and I was off. It now became a mental test. The reviews indicated that this last leg of the first 107 miles was tough because of the head winds. I had to throw out my preconceived ideas about a good time on this loop. For a point of reference, our peloton made the second rest stop at mile 57 in about 2:40.

Pushing on in a saddened sort of way, the time passed as if out of a dream. It sure seemed to take forever to meander through the little canyon south and west of Circleville which eventually opens up into the valley where Panguitch lay at the south end. Although the winds are noticeable, they aren't harsh. It's getting closer, just keep moving. Finally, a group comes along and they pass me before I can make a move to catch on. My decision not to press here, in hind sight, may have been a good one. Finally, about a mile outside of town. The flag was whipping, showing it's colors in full glory to those east and west of where it stood. The winds have finally kicked in and it was slow going to make it the last mile to the start.

Thanks to the organizers and volunteers who provided lunch. It was a much needed break and it sure feels good to sit down. Amazingly, I timed in at a 5:02. That can't be, I was too slow the last 50 miles. The sandwich was yummy and the beverages refreshing. Do I really need to do another 100? Maybe I can find others to group with. Some were going, others who originally signed up were opting out, but no one is leaving right now. I wondered how Sterling, Fred, Richard, Jim, Charles and the others are doing. Are they here yet, I don't see them. My mind could only think how long the second loop would be and that I want it to be over. To be over, you need to go and it has already been 45 minutes.

The winds did not die down after lunch. The first couple of blocks were great, they were flat. But anyone who has been to Panguitch and ever noticed a road gently climbing up the hill to the south has seen the beginning of the second loop. I must be stupid for paying to make this climb into the wind. By the way, it wasn't one of those 3-5 mph breezes, it was closer to 8-12 with gusts higher at the top. Several minutes into it, a group of two passed me. Then a couple more passed and I thought, can't you even hang with them?

Hang I didn't, but over the course of the climb, they were eventually passed. Two of them contemplated turning around as we were chatting at a water stop next to white capped Panguitch Lake. Hills must be respected. Sure there are some naturals who can bounce up them like a mountain goat, but it must be put into perspective. You are you, you must know your limitations and work within them. Be consistent, be persistent and you will finish, maybe not in your time frame.

The climbing never seemed to end. Finally, a full rest stop which marked the highest point of the course. Free at last. A nice refill and a wonderful chat with the volunteers and it was time to speed down the mountain. Somebody awoke me from the dream because no sooner did that end and another climb presented itself. Where did this come from? It's probably just a little hill, define little. A couple of miles and 6-8% later I'm a couple hundred feet under the elevaion of the feed zone I just left. Okay, that has to be it. Another semi-quick descent, oh, and to my surprise another climb, not as intent as the last but easily as long and it puts me a few hundred feet shy of the last one. The wind has never stopped by the way.

I crest to a plateau where the wind is howling. Ya, it's flat, but it feels just like a climb. My pace is approx 15. Where is that nice long downhill I've been longing for? Can someone stop the wind? What seemed like forever had finally come, Hwy 14. This tells me I'm getting closer, to what I had no idea. There were a few more descents, but the road was rough and the heavy cross wind made it not so refreshing. This is ridiculous. After about a mile in descend mode, I was at the intersection of 14 and 89, Todd's Jct. I could turn left here instead of right and cut out 17 miles because turning right puts me back into the face of the tormenting wind.

My speed only slowed down enough to make the turn safely, to Afton. Forever in my memory would lie the decision to cut short a part of the course which I set a goal to conquer and to have me become a better cyclist, had I opted left. While heading south, I saw three heading north, wishing I had already completed that part of the journey. Soon, I took the left turn from 89 toward Afton and was quickly joined by the fellows I left at the water station next to Panguitch Lake. Some light chatting and a few rollers and the next feed station presented itself.

Knowing you have to do something, that you really don't want to do, despite being tired, dirty and out of the wind, is loathsome. You must press on. The three of us headed back out. One was having a difficult time pushing up the hills and because we weren't organized, I had no ill thoughts of moving on. In short order, I returned to Todd's Junction (Hwys 14 & 89) with only 27 miles to go. Most of it, 85% or so, was downhill and the wind was to my back. It is time to get this over with.

The exit from the junction was sweet, the speed climbed to over 35 and set the course for the final leg. I settled into a pace of 24-25 and gave myself some needed breaks backing off to 21 or so. What a blessing the wind had become. I was now passing through the town of Hatch, 15 miles from Panguitch. A quick refill and a washing of the face left me with some renewed zeal. Minutes later, the odometer and mileage markers gave me ten miles to go. Pace is good, no one is within a mile, press on. The countdown began with each passing marker, 10, 9, 8 etc. Finally, the 89/12 Jct to Bryce. 7, 6, 5 ,4, 3 - the last hill and turn west into town. Another hefty cross wind. Settle back into a smooth pace; only a couple of miles to finish. Finally, the welcome sign, a turn right, a turn left, couple of blocks to go. One final left and the finish line is there. A voice calls out as I cross, 12:04. I thought, "That is disappointing." But, I am relieved that it is over; an accomplishment nontheless, 198 miles with 8,000 feet of climbing.

The gentleman says something so I circle back around to the other side of the line and he hands me a bag saying, "Congratulations, you finished 10th overall." I about fell over, not from the news, but because I couldn't stand. What a treat. Here come the other two who were with me at the last stop. That memento now serves as my cycling maintenance bag.

While winding down and analyzing the day over dinner, many positives came from such a grueling, relentless day: outside of stoppage time, my actual ride time was remarkably 10:15; two-thirds of all the climbing was completed in the second half, most into the wind; 141 miles was on my own. You can complete a 200 mile ride by understanding yourself, trusting your abilities and staying consistent. For some reason, it all began to make sense.

Just Another Ride, Or So I Thought....

Ah, Flag Day, a time to display our patriotic colors. Everyday should be flag day. Today I spent time riding with another group, dubbed Tri-Mesa. There are a few who are training for Lotoja and it is of interest to me to hang and learn a few things. The ride was a normal Usury Loop and after the climb at Las Sendas, turned and headed home.

At 7 in the morning, the winds come out of the east making the last 4 miles a breeze :). No monitoring speed after 40 miles though, the battery on the Garmin ran out of juice. Anyway, approaching Highland High gives me a boost because it is only a mile home. Nothing unusual, except for that car stopped for a stop sign. No problem, she appeared to look right at me okay to proceed. Um, front wheel is moving. Hey, hey, HEY! Last thought prior to impact, this can't be happening, oh, what is going to hurt worse?

Yes, she pulled out from the stop sign and hit me broadside. My momentum carried me over a portion of her hood, possibly rotating once in the air. The freshly paved road didn't feel any softer than the old paved road, not that I would know. The original landing resembled being in a doggie position, on my knees and toes with the final resting place on my back. My ankle really hurts, where her bumper ran into me.

Is everything attached? Amazingly, there is no swelling in my leg. The lady comes over and asks if I'm alright, my thought, yes, right up to the point you hit me. All I verbalized was, "Didn't you see me?" "No sir I didn't", was the reply. She was on the phone to 911. I scoot myself off to the side of the road and take off my helmet and lay my head on the curb. Several cars stopped and a couple of people were kind enough to assist in getting bike etc off the road. Time to call Kate.

Emergency responders were there in no time, arriving in minutes. They were very courteous and professional. They asked if I needed to be taken to the hospital, I declined. They put on an inflatable splint and sent me on my way. Doc sent me for xrays and did an evaluation. Good news, again miraculously, nothing broken.

It would have been worse had I ran into her. As it was, the front wheel folded and was sheared off the front fork. It cracked one of the front drop outs. One of the carbon cages cracked from the force of the bike being thrown to the ground sideways.

This is another incidence in which the tender mercies of the Lord were extended to me. Why I was preserved is unknown to me. Law of physics; it is easier to divert energy than to stop it. Subconsciously, that may be why I began moving out of the bike lane when I saw that she began rolling forward. I still ride in my black, scuffed Arizona jersey. It serves as a reminder of my obligation to God and country.

Heartbreak 100

This is an event that occurred in the past but felt it was necessary to post. It is an experience that has strengthened my faith.

On May 29, there is a bike ride that can challenge those who aren't serious cyclists. It is called the Heartbreak 100. The ride originates in Lebec, CA (30 min north of Magic Mtn). The ride covers 100 miles and has an 8,500' gain in elevation. It seemed daunting, but I felt prepared. The best part was that another local rider who patrons the same bike shop was going to be there; we made plans to ride together.

The weather was perfect for the 8:30 start. The first 30 miles is a gradual climb toward Mt Pinos with a pass at Apache Saddle. The climb went without a hitch. A few minutes at the rest top and it was off for the descent. The next 10 miles was a series of rollers then it is downhill with a bit of a head wind. Parts of this section allow you to get up to 40 or so. Something strange though, there was a vibration coming from the bike. I concluded it must be from the road since it wasn't constant only every few hundred yards or so.

Soon it was a stop for lunch and the most grueling part lay ahead. From the lunch area, it is 22 miles of progressively steeper incline to stop number 3, on top of Heartbreak Hill. The grade culminates at 8-9%; possibly more. That stop was definitely needed. Before getting underway for the final leg, I performed a quick check of the bike and found that the rear hub was not securely attached to the dropouts. That was the cause of the vibrations. What a blessing not to have the wheel come off at those speeds. Thanks for the thought to check and humble gratitude to have not become part of the pavement 50 miles before.

Finished without incident. A prayer of thanks and a realization of my own insignificance were foremost on my mind for the first part of the trip home.

The day after the ride was Sunday and again, it was a time to give thanks and ponder upon an eternal perspective of the soul. During church, the thought came that I should share my experience with the family. When we got home, I asked everyone to come into the family room for a family counsel. With quiet attention, the fam listened to my experience of the previous day. It was then that my quiet attention was turned to what Kate had to say. About the same time as my companions and I were riding the section I described above, where the vibrations were occurring, Kate and Josh were headed out for an errand. Kate received an impression that I was in danger and that they needed to come back in the house an pray. They heeded the prompting of the Spirit and prayed for my welfare. A little while later, she was a t peace and I was at the bottom of the hill.

We had not shared any parts of the story to each other prior to this time and the kids were in awe; I was in awe and was grateful to have a woman who is in tune with the Holy Ghost and followed its promptings.

Life's Phrase

One's knowledge of truth is limited by his application of it.

-I'm not sure if anyone has this phrase to their credit, but I applaud the one who does. Truth is absolute in reach, both breadth and depth. It is immovable in a world tossed by every whim of thought and provocative notion usually brought about from an unwillingness to change or live by a standard whose yield results in virtue. The claim which is offered for non-conformation is a paradoxical reliant upon the ultimate virtue of love or acceptance. Does the virtue of love excuse one from not conforming to truth? If so, then one cannot come to understand how truth is woven into love.