The Cycling Travel Formula™: Is The Ride Worth The Drive?

Plug your numbers into The Best Bike Blog EVER’s Cycling Travel Formula™ and find out if the ride worth the drive.

HSR = or > HSD – F x DQ

(HSR) Hours Spent Riding should be equal to or more than the (HSD) Hours Spent Driving minus the (F) number of Friends traveling with you multiplied by the (DQ) Disappointment Quotient.  I just blew your mind didn’t I?  You might want to read that again.

Sweeky sweeky.  The hamster is running on the wheel between your ears.  You put index finger and thumb to your chin and ponder.  You’re saying, “Hmm…he could be on to something.”  You know, I am.  I’ve practiced this theory for years, only now have I put it to paper.  Like Einstein on a bike, I’m a genius.  Of course The Cycling Travel Formula™ all hinges on the DQ, the Disappointment Quotient and slightly on the number of friends you travel with.  It was precisely the reason I chose not to travel from Cincinnati to the cyclocross races in Columbus, OH and Bloomington, IN this weekend.

  

Only Crazy Glue Would've Saved His Teeth

DISAPPOINTMENT QUOTIENT

The disappointment quotient is a measure of buzz kill, the chances of something bad happening in the following six departments: a flat, mechanical, disappointing result, domestic dispute, bonk or injury.  The highest possible DQ is 6.  Flats are separate from mechanicals, because for some rides or races you may not bring a multi tool or a truing stand.  Of course the DQ is completely subjective to your personal situation.  For example at the Mohican 100, you could easily achieve a 6 by making your spouse mad by spending your rent money on the entry fee, doing the race with no tools or food, crashing in the rock garden and bonking at aid station 3.  Since the round trip drive to Mohican from Cincinnati is 6 hours, such a debacle would ruin the entire trip no matter how many clowns you crammed in your car.

The DQ can be brought down by negating the possibilities of those buzz kills.  Depending on the situation, a pump, spare tube, patch kit and/or pit wheels can negate the chances of a flat.  A multi tool, spare chain pin or pit bike can nullify a mechanical.  A gift from Nordstrom could quell a domestic dispute.  Then again, inappropriately spent money can cause a domestic dispute.  Be wise.

FRIENDS

In the case of a ride or a race with a potentially high DQ, it mathematically makes sense to travel with more friends.  Hence the hours of driving are directly and proportionately affected by the number of friends in your car.  The more the merrier.  The more friends the less the chances of a total suckfest.  Remember Aron Ralston, the guy who had to cut his hand off to escape death in a Utah slot canyon?  He drove all night to get there for a solo day hike.  Imagine if he took even one friend along.  A ha!  He may still have his hand and not have had to drink pee.  That’s what friends are for, a helping hand if you will.

HSR = or > HSD – F x DQ

Do The Math B4 You Mount The Bike

HOW THE CYCLING TRAVEL FORMULA™ WORKS

Take Haw Ridge, TN for example.  It’s four hours away from Cincinnati, 8 hours of total driving.  If you bring your spouse, tools, plenty of food and water and a first aid kit with more than Band-Aids and Bactine, the disappointment quotient barely registers, maybe a 1, only a broken bone or a deep laceration could kill your buzz.  To make the 8 hour round trip worth while you need to have 4 friends in the car and ride for at least 4 hours, totally doable. 

MTB Haw Ridge TN:  HSR 4 is = or > HSD 8 - 4 Friends x DQ (1)

Sadly it’s what makes a cyclocross race in Bloomington, IN a complete conundrum.  Even if you race the 60 minute Elite race, at the most you might ride is 2.5 hours with a warm-up and cool down.  Its six hours of driving. With spare wheels, a pit bike or two, giant duffle bags and coolers the most you can travel with is 3.  You need a negative DQ to make it work.

CX Bloomington IN: HSR 2.5 is not = or > HSD 6 – 3 Friends x DQ

While I had a chance to travel with friends, the DQ for me was still too high.  When I opened the front door to grab the paper on Saturday morning a blizzard of cat hair wafted up the stairwell with the breeze.  To cut my DQ I would have to clean the house or risk domestic dispute.  Of course spending the whole day on my feet hunched over brushing toilets, scrubbing floors and vacuuming stairs increased the chance of a disappointing finish especially against those fast Indiana guys.  I don’t have a pit bike and have rolled tires in the last two races.  My DQ was nowhere near negative.  I bailed on the race.  It just didn’t add up. 

Phils Ride Across America - The Story Of My Amazing Race, uh, Ride With Phil Keoghan

Video of the ride is here, click on Day 33.

“Take it up to 22,” I overheard Amazing Race TV Show Host Phil Keoghan say to the driver of the BMW motorcycle.  While I’ve been in some really fast races, I had never been motorpaced before.  It was a rush.  We left the GNC on Polaris Pkwy. in Columbus OH with about a group of 20.  Some were local GNC employees and MS Foundation volunteers who had only enough legs to hang for the first 5 to 10 miles of the 108 mile leg to Dennison, OH.  Others hung on to the increasing pace a little longer or decided to turn around.  Since most didn’t have arrangements for a ride back, myself included, and Phil’s people don’t provide transportation back to the start city, most picked a place en-route to pull even and shake hands with Phil and turn around for a solo slog back to Columbus.  It was either that or do 216 miles in a day.  I don’t think so.

I had met Phil about a year ago, at my real job, on a radio station promotional tour for The Amazing Race.  I write and produce commercials for those dying to know my glamorous occupation.  His first reaction was, “you look a lot like Lance and you ride bikes?”  I do get that a lot.  Believe me the slight resemblance ends where the helmet straps hit the cheek bones.  I guess my eyes are a little beady like Lance’s.  He did remember me on Wednesday and kept calling me Lance on the ride.  I’m sure some of that will end up on his daily video blog, or maybe when the show about the ride airs on national TV.  Eek.

When I first saw Phil that morning in Columbus, I have to say, he looked thin and sort of wiped out.  My face has looked like that from time to time.  32 days of back to back centuries, glad handing, and promotional stops is bound to take its toll on the body and mind.  Just the day before, he wrecked on a set of rain slicked railroad checks leaving him with road rash on his knee and hip.  He took a little nick out of his cheek too.  You can see the bandage in the photo.  The video of the incident is here, see the day 32 video.  Soft spoken with the Aussie lilt, he was gracious enough for photos, book signings and autographs, but you could tell he really wanted to get on with the ride and more importantly a midday nap.  After check presentations from GNC and the local MS group, he announced to the crowd that he was going to put on and I quote, “Belgian Butt Butter,” and by 10-10:30am, we were on our way.  Phil’s riding across America to raise awareness for the National MS Foundation. 

The ride itself started out like most group rides do on the way out of town.  Phil chatted with riders who worked their way up to his side and the pace was easy for the first 5 miles or so down Polaris Pkwy.  The casual riders fell off the pace or decided to turn around.  As we turned onto OH-3, the pace ratcheted up again.  I didn’t have a computer on my bike, but I guess it went up to about 18-20mph.  A group of about 10 or so hung strong till we pulled over for Phil’s crew to check their route on GPS while the rest of us took the opportunity for a natural break.  At this point, some riders said they would be turning around in a few miles; there were one or two that still intended on doing the entire 108 mile leg to Dennison with Phil.  Since I didn’t even have a map or know the route, I told someone that I thought I’d go about 50, before I would turn around and head back to my truck in Columbus.  We mounted up and were on our way.

As the road became more rural, I heard Phil tell the motorpace driver, “Take it up to 22.” We had a slight cross wind, but luckily I had Phil’s wheel.  We were starting to haul.  The conversations among riders ceased.  I quickly understood that this is how you ride across America when you’re on a deadline.  This is also how you systematically and kindly keep riders from getting in over their head while trying to follow you across America.  Somewhere I Iooked back and realized that I was the only rider left on the train.  We hauled on.   I nearly popped at least once when the motorcycle didn't ease up on a riser.  I’m sure at points we were running 23-25 mph now.  I was just trying to keep track of the turns, so I could find my way back to my car whenever it was time to turn around.

Earlier, I had heard Phil say that he really needed a nap and that he had hoped to grab some winks around lunchtime.  That made me wonder.  Was Phil trying to drop me?  He put my stewing thoughts at ease when he asked me to pull along side and ribbed me on camera about how I kind of look like Lance.  It was just the two of us now.  I think I had gained his respect as a strong rider and truthfully I think he welcomed the company and conversation.

We rocketed through some sweet country.  The rural farm roads we were on, sandwiched between OH-3 and OH-62 were freshly paved.  Smooth, twisty and rolling, this is what I came for.  We stopped twice along the way for them to check the GPS and confirm lunch plans with the people towing the Airstream which stuck to the bigger roads.  I tried to recall the way back.  Right at the cement factory, left on Johnstown, right at the new yellow house on the farm road, a slight chicane and back to Route 3.  The sky was starting to look a little grey.  My legs were starting to feel the pace. I had two swigs of Gatorade left in my bottles. I told Phil that I’d turn around at the next convenient store.

“Join us for lunch,” he said, “we just have another 12 miles.”  Sure I could do that, I thought. I can’t pass up lunch with the host of the Amazing Race.  At this pace it’d be just another half hour or so.  I could tell Phil was getting tired.  He lost the motorcycle's wheel up a gradual climb.  Not to be a chest thumper, I could tell Phil was running out of gas.  Then, somewhere within the next 5 miles, it started misting, then lightly raining.  It wasn’t so bad, but the spray from the motorcycle was hitting my feet.  My jacket was feeling damp on my arms.  I didn’t want to be stuck in the rain with wet feet and a 50 mile solo ride back home.  About 45 miles in, probably 15-20 minutes from lunch and just a few miles east of Martinsburg, OH, I pulled even with Phil and told him that I was going to turn around.

Sitting backwards on the passenger seat of the motorcycle, the camera guy lifted the camera to his shoulder.  Phil and I said our goodbyes and shook hands.  I signaled a turn around with my finger in the air and we parted ways.  Hopefully that’ll be up on the website’s video blog.

With renewed energy from the adventure, through patches of rain and sun I absolutely killed the 45 miles back to Columbus.  What a great day on the bike.  But, man climbing the stairs at work hurt the next morning.