How does he do it?
As I gathered up whatever strength remained in me today to put up a quick blog post, I wondered how the Metal Cowboy pulled off his multiple cross country/continent family bicycle adventures. In one of his epic crossings from coast to coast, I believe he averaged six or seven hours a day in the saddle, with his tandem co-pilot #1, tag-along co-pilot #2, infant toting trailer, and luggage for 5 all being pulled behind him, through terrain that went up and over passes through the Rockies and later into the Appalachians. Once the day ended, he and his clan did it again, and again, and again, for weeks stretching through the summer.
Me, on the other hand, well... I can barely keep my fingers typing right now after only logging 74 miles (just under 7 & 1/2 hours) over two days, while pulling only co-pilot #1 in a tag-along, co-pilot #2 in the trailer, and more luggage than needed for just two days (I have Mrs D to thank for that). And I wasn't climbing through the mountains as did the Metal Cowboy. Despite having tackled some of the North East's craziest hills over the last month, the rollers between Colechester and Mystic had my engine taxed to the max. In fact, I even had to do an emergency/panicked un-clipping to put a foot down and avoid a "train" collapse as the modest incline on the approach to the New London pedestrian crossing got the best of me.
The train gets rolling again after about 20 feet of embarrassed walking.
Other contrasts between me and the Metal Cowboy came to mind earlier as well. He and his crew are guided by a few maps and travel books, but mostly by a seemingly innate ability to know at all times how to get from A to B. Me...well despite asking numerous times for directions, consulting with google maps, and waving my iPhone's gps in circles like a wizard casting a spell on the person who marked the roads, it took me nearly 45 frustrating minutes to find the narrow pedestrian path to get out of New London.
And while I might have moaned and groaned when I had to break down the train and then reassemble it the next day for our stay at the Comfort Inn, the Metal Cowboy not only had to do that, but also setup camp in a tent each night, and then tend to the numerous bike maintenance issues that arise when you're on the road for so long.
We get to recover in relative luxury as compared to those like the Metal Cowboy who rough it in camp grounds
Why does he do it?
While I can't imagine how the Metal Cowboy successfully ferried his clan (with his wife riding her own steed on one of his adventures) without either him collapsing or his family disowning him, the Desmarais Mystic adventure gave me numerous hints as to why he rolls across the country.
I'm not sure if I'll ever get excited enough about a good report card to go out and slap a bumper sticker proudly proclaiming my daughter's good grades. However, I'd immediately open my wallet if I saw a sticker that said "My daughter loves hills." You can only imagine the joy this hill climber felt as my youngest daughter composed her song "I love hills" after barrelling down one of the weekend's numerous descents. While she didn't seem to enjoy the climbing part as much, there's no containing her joy going down a good hill, and the look on her face was contagious!
Perhaps the Metal Cowboy is reminded why he does it when people approach him (as they did to me this weekend) to point out how dangerous it is to bring your kids on the road (unfortunately the roads we took had us on some busy stretches filled with speeding cars). While I won't dispute that there's some danger when sharing the road with two ton pick-ups, I always am quick to point out to those offering their caution that my kids would face far more harm had they been on the couch, watching TV, as I'm sure many kids their age were doing when we were out and about.
While I'm hopeful that I'll be able to continue racing for many years to come, adventures like this weekend continue to remind me that family rides wouldn't be a bad plan B if I sought to fill my summer weekends with something other than racing. Our weekend lacked cycle friendly roads, our ultimate destination didn't have any super kid friendly rides and entertainment (and unfortunately what Mystic does have to offer was closed by the time we ventured into town yesterday evening), and all four of us are walking zombies right now. However, when I look back on all of the smiling faces from the time together this weekend, it kinda makes me wonder if some future summer might be race-free and instead filled with my own Metal Cowboy adventures...
Lunch break
The swim leg of our adventure
More smiles than miles
