Stale Fish: The Masters Wreck at Derby City

Artwork Courtesy of James Billiter

I covered my eyes.  I’m certain that’s where the realization set in that my friend and teammate may be paralyzed.  I paced.  I rested my head in my arms along the course fencing of the start/finish straight.  Little clips trickled into my ears.   “I’m a doctor.”  “He’s complaining he can’t feel…”  I didn’t catch the rest.  Emotion overcame me.  I spotted teammate Gerri on the other side of the course.  We had a good weepy hug as the EMT’s carefully went to work. 

Nate was stale fish on the ground.  They already had a collar around his neck.  I looked back, with his arms at his side, his legs shook.  Shock I presumed.  Fuck man, just fuck.  I wasn’t angry.  I feared the worst.  I didn’t want to make that phone call.  Someone handed me his glasses.  I snagged his Garmin off his bike and tucked both in my jersey pocket.  Gerri helped getting a plan together.  I hopped on my bike with inoperable brakes and coasted back to the start to collect my grid bag and thoughts.

As of this Monday morning, Nate spent the night at U of L Hospital.  An MRI showed a fractured vertebra in his upper spine.  Thankfully, he can move all his parts.  He was alert, coherent and concerned about his bike.  Despite complaining of intense shoulder pain, the news sounded somewhat positive.  Granted the possibility of surgery and rehab still looms, at the moment it appears our buddy Nate escaped the most serious of injuries.  Looking at his bike and helmet, it looks as if he sprinted into a wall at 30mph.  When I put the bike on my roof rack, the drivetrain was in the 53x17 gear. 

Derby City Cup Masters Wreck 1 by Kent Baumgardt

I saw the wreck unfold firsthand.  Despite the ruckus over the large mixed fields at the MudFund Derby City Cup, I don’t think those things had anything to do with it.  It was the simplest thing really.  A rider hooked a wheel at the front which cascaded into a chain reaction full-gas pile up. 

I personally knew 90% of the riders in the first four rows, and at least two more rows behind me.  Look at the call up list for Wave 6.  Granted not everyone on the list started, but all of those guys at the front, masters and juniors, are good riders.  Most of them I’d equate with sticklers for etiquette.  They know to hold a line and not to make unpredictable moves.  With the callups based on points, at least the first 8 rows were sorted by speed.  Additionally, throughout the last two weekends with Cincy3, every junior I raced with passed cleanly.  Between a bunch of USGP’s and Worlds, most of these guys have done this same long paved Louisville start at least 10 times.

Derby City Cup Masters Wreck 2 by Kent Baumgardt

Based on Saturday’s start, the first few hundred meters of the course were key for position in the race.  Everybody on that start grid knew we had a long paved start, a soft curve onto a long downhill straightaway.  From there, the course made a huge soft left hand U-turn before getting into the first pinch point on the course.  We all knew the position you held going into the first chicane was more or less within a few riders you’d have up the steps, through the first sand and over the flyover before you’d have another big chance to make passes.  Still I don’t think the speed at the start or the jostling for position in the first few hundred meters of the course was unusual or overly aggressive.  Yesterday, the wreck happened not much more than 120 meters or so from the grid, 3 or 4 shifts, and a mere 10-15 seconds into the race.      

Derby City Cup Masters Wreck 3 by Kent Baumgardt

I cannot say it was a bonehead move.  Someone hooked a wheel.  Only the rider who hooked the wheel in front of him knows the circumstances.  Maybe the rider in front hit a crack in the pavement or a rock.  Maybe that rider came out of a pedal or his hand slipped off his bars.  From what I remember seeing, the hook was subtle.  It was not a big sweeping move from right to left, more a matter of inches.  The wreck happened before the announcer’s trailer, way before the bend to the left and onto the grass.  I don’t know if the rider in front slowed, moved right or if there was something unseen that happened miliseconds before it caught my eye.  Regardless, two riders made contact.  The rider in back went down.  I don’t recall seeing the front rider go down. 

Front end of Nate's bike caved in

I started on the middle of the 4^th row.  My BioWheels teammate Mike was 3^rd row and to my left.  My teammate Steven was a row behind and to my left.  Nate, registering late, had a 92^nd call up.  With some no shows, I’m unsure of where he lined up on the grid.  In front of us was a who’s-who of the region’s top masters and a handful of seasoned juniors. 

At the whistle, a rider in front of me was a little slower off the grid, nothing unusual.  That held me up for a fraction of a second.  I got around on the right.  Clicking through gears, I remember seeing the two sides of the front open up.  The middle held more traffic.  Feeling the flow of the race drift to the left, I was now out of the saddle sprinting maybe just left of center. 

I saw the hook slightly ahead of me and just to my left.  A rider in front moved slight right to left and snagged the wheel in front of him.  I honestly can’t recall even a jersey color and would rather not speculate.  As he fell to the left, he went into someone else coming up from behind.  Those two went down and collected a 3^rd rider.  Three riders and bikes slid across the pavement in front of me.

Chris King Headset Cracked

You make split second decisions.  I was sort of boxed and heading straight for them.  At this speed, likely close to 28mph, there was no way I could change my line fast enough to avoid them and not take out guys on either side.  I threw my weight back, braked and aimed for the least obstructed part of the pile, the rear end of a bike in my path.  I didn’t make it.  I fell down on the other riders with my left side.  My bike rolled up and over.  I tried to curl up in a ball and cover my face.  The rider next to me did the same, hidden under a cage of frames.

Then the impacts came, seemingly endless, one by one.  Oof.  Ugh.  I caught a glimpse of Nate’s kit on my right.  Mmmph.  Ugh.  The weight of people on top of me compounded.  I heard a young man scream out.  Frames dug into my hip and body.  They just kept coming, hitting, landing, rolling over.  I worried about being crushed.  Boom.  Bam.  I could hear the crowd gasp.  My teammates Steven and Mike, starting more to the left, avoided the serious wreck, but got caught up in the course fencing.  Both got free and continued racing.

Crack halfway through downtube at BB

Then the bodies stopped falling on me.  With the clop of bike shoes on pavement, riders scrambled to pull tangled bikes off the top.  I shouted at someone, “Hey!  Hey!  Be careful.”  A call went out for medical.  I could see my shifter stuck in someone’s wheel.  As far as we knew, the race was still on.  From the ground, I helped to untie the bikes.  The weight was still heavy.  I just wanted to get out from under as quick as possible.  It was freaking me out.

It seemed like minutes passed, but I’m sure it was only seconds.  I was able to wriggle out from underneath.  Nate still lay on his back, I think propped half on top of a bike.  I found my bike along the fence.  The rear wheel had come out of the drops.  I fixed that, but couldn’t reattach the brake cables.  My front brake pads were stuck under the lip of the rim.  I was done.  That’s when I turned to see Nate.  The sight made me sick with worry.  I couldn’t leave him. 

While Nate does have insurance, copays and deductibles for a serious visit to the ER probably wasn’t in the fall budget.  Not to mention, his custom Indy Fab Planet X is ruined.  A fund has been set up to help him out.  I’m sure he’d appreciate your generosity.  Click here for more information.

Joe Bellante

Update as of 3pm 11/11 from Anna: "Final X-rays came back and no serious damage to any of the discs. A lot of ligament damage so he will be in a neck brace for awhile until that heals. Won't be going home yet today but hoping tomorrow. No surgery!!!!! Very happy. We want to thank all of you soooo much for all you are doing. We got the best friends in the world and so proud to be part of the amazing cycling community."

Top 10 April 1st Cycling Headlines

Hipsters Beware

Hipster Killed Locking Bike To Top of Electric Fence

Shotgun Out: Ohio Valley CX Gun Club Race To Get Rocket Propelled Grenade Start

Jimmy Carter Wins Nobel Peace Prize For Ending Cyclocross Air Pressure Debate

Cobble Gripping Suction Cup Tires To Debut at Tour of Flanders

Pure CO2 Inflation

Topeak Unveils New CO2 Tire Pump: “You Blow”

Mr. Katie Compton Changing Name to Mark Fucking Legg Compton

Border Patrol Agents Seize 47 Pounds of Weed In Frame of Downhill Mountain Bike

Tire Scab: Stan’s Revolutionary Bio-Tubeless System Uses Animal Cells To Self Heal Punctures

Model of Cobble Sector 14

Worried About Hip Fracture Hincapie Training For Paris Roubaix on Nerf Cobblestones

Weight Weenie In Hospital After Failed Test of Nylon Helmet Stuffed With Packing Peanuts

Facebook Friday! Funny Father's Day Stories

Like Father like Son, got a late start to posting the Facebook Friday question yesterday.  Need to remember that most of our readers are out riding in the evening, not checking FB.  Consequently we didn't receive the normal 25 or more comments.  This week, we decided to change Facebook Friday up a bit in honor of the men who took the training wheels off our bikes and gave us our first sting of road rash. 

It’s Facebook Father’s Day Friday on The Best Bike Blog Ever.  Every week we ask our Facebook followers and likers a pressing question and post the comments on the blog on Friday.  If you’d like to participate follow or like us here. 

This week’s idea came from the fact that half the fun of cycling comes from friends joking around at the trail head, during the car ride to the race or over a café’ mocha before the group ride.  So, with this weekend's Father’s Day rides in mind, the question was:

Let’s pretend we just finished a killer ride on Father’s Day. Share a funny story about your Dad. “I’ll never forget the time that Dad (blank).”

RODERICK:  I'll never forget the time Dad decided he was going to kill a skunk that kept coming around our house. He shot it.  Nailed it first try…apparently right in the sack that holds it's stink juice.  The wind blew the stench right into the house for the whole night. It was a week before we got rid of the smell.

David:  I'll never forget the time I talked my non-golfer dad into giving it a try. We found him some old rusted garage specials (clubs.)  I was about 16 and new to the game myself.  On the very first hole my dad had a rude awakening to just how hard it was to hit that little white ball.  He stood there and swung at least ten times and missed it every try. After 5 swings I was on the ground laughing my rear off! He finally picked up the ball and threw it! It was the first and last time we played golf together, but one of my favorite memories!!!!

Darryn:  My dad works in the fishing business.  However, he has a deep dark secret.  He's a yoga-practicing vegan. On a fairly regular basis, he's offered lunch by one of his customers and has to constantly come up with creative ways to avoid the fried chicken, deer sausage, or whatever it is.  Every once in a while he just has to jump on the grenade and eat.

TBBBE:        I’ll never forget the time that Dad took the family fishing. Dad decided to save money by using his own motor. He spent the entire week tuning it up using a garbage can full of water in the driveway. On Saturday, the four of us shoved off from the pier. Dad pulled the starter on the motor. Nothing. He pulled again. Nada. Again. Ka-woof! It burst into flames. Luckily a pontoon boat saw the whole thing and rescued us. The motor…it’s still at the bottom of Lake Five.

Happy Father’s Day!

Earth Day Schmirth Day

Earth Day, what a bunch of hooey.  It’s just another Hallmark holiday to me, not any different than Valentine’s Day.  My wife and I don’t exchange cards or gifts on Valentine’s Day, even though it is in fact the anniversary of my proposal.  It’s Earth Day and the Earth shouldn’t expect anything extra from me today.  If you have a good relationship everyday should be as love filled and celebrated as Valentine’s Day.  If you really care about the environment, everyday should be Earth Day.  If the green websites and NBC logos are making you feel a little guilty about it, I guess it never hurts to put a little more umph into “doing your part” for fat mama earth today.  There's no such thing as too much of a good thing for Earth Day.  (Pictured: beautiful El Yunque National Forest-Puerto Rico)

Earlier today I updated the status of The Best Bike Blog Ever*’s Facebook page.  It read, “Happy Earth Day.  Do your part.  Pick up a piece of trash or two on your ride today.”  I had an early meeting and rushed it.  I wish I thought it out more clearly.  I guess that’s what I’m doing now.  If you’re a cyclist you should be pickin’ up a piece of trash whenever you can no matter what day it is.  I’m not saying to lock up the brakes at the front of the peloton and break a few collarbones to stuff a gum wrapper in your jersey pocket.  Seriously, if you ride a bike, stop at an intersection and see a piece of trash, pick it up and put it in the next recycling or garbage can you see.  It makes the ride that much more enjoyable next time you pass through.

That got me to thinking of other things an everyday cyclist can do to make everyday Earth Day:

DON’T BUY WATER BOTTLES

You should never buy another water bottle again.  No lie.  I have at least 50 of them in my pantry dating back to God knows when.  It’s ridiculous.  If you need one, let me know.  Ask a friend.  Or, take a look around at the next rough railroad track crossing, chances are there’s one lying in the brush.  Trash becomes treasure.  I’ve heard pro tour teams this year are using bottles made from recycled or biodegradable material.  So you don’t have to cringe and wince when you see them whip a bottle into an empty field in a remote part of Spain.  They say at most pro races the fans snatch them up pretty quickly.  However, I don’t recall seeing too many fans in the desert during the Tour of Oman earlier this year.  The next time one jangles out of your cage probably best to go pick it up, unless you have cheering souvenir hunting fans along your training route.  Plus, Karma’s a bitch.

BE GREEN WHEN YOU CLEAN

It was likely brain cell killing toxic and costly, but I used to practically clean my entire bike with degreaser.  Idiot.  Looking back at my carelessness, probably a few gallons of degreaser flowed out of my garage and into the storm sewer or through cracks into the ground.  Now, I drop a rag on the floor under the drive train; spritz a spray or two on the chain cleaner or tooth brush and scrub the drive train only.  When you’re done, you can use that degreaser dripped rag to wipe off your cassette and chainrings.  I’ve heard there are chain cleaners that allow you to recycle the degreaser with a filter.  That’s what the bike shops do, but on a huge scale.  That’s what that big 50 gallon drum in the back of the shop is for.  Degreaser never really loses its cleaning properties.  You can use it more than once.  Like motor oil, it just gets dirty.  The rest of the bike is cleaned with a squirt of dish soap into a recycled spray bottle of water.  We have 5 bikes that are ridden and cleaned at least weekly.  I probably fill up that old circa 2002 409 cleaner spray bottle three times per year.  That’s 3 squeezes of soap for hundreds of bike wipe-downs.  I don’t buy shop rags.  Instead I recycle old t-shirts into rags and use those to clean the bike.  Don’t tell me you don’t have a surplus of hideously ugly t-shirts from charity rides and races.

TRAVEL WITH YOUR BIKE INSIDE THE CAR

Not only will it keep you from littering the drive through at Arby’s with heavy metals and carbon fiber during a run-in with the overhang, it saves a ton on gas.  I’ve tracked the mileage savings.  With my car, there’s probably a 3-4 mpg difference between having a bike on top of the roof as opposed to being inside.  That makes a huge difference when traveling to races or on vacation.  Plus it stays dry, maybe saving a re-lube of the drive train when you arrive at your destination.  Lastly, your bike might be a little more secure locked behind tinted windows instead of advertising to the world that you have an expensive bike.  Of course there’s going to be times when you need the roof rack, hopefully that’s when you’re carpooling with teammates and friends, saving the gas you would’ve burned taking individual cars, and getting lost in the boonies trying to keep the caravan together.

PARTICIPATE IN A TRAIL BUILDING DAY

While it’s fantastic to have new trails and bikeways, I am always surprised by the amount of trash and junk deep in the honey suckle jungle of unused park land.  At Devou Park in Covington volunteers from Give Back Cincinnati carted out literally hundreds of 5 gallon buckets full of ancient whiskey pint bottles, tires, old fencing, tarps, tents, single shoes, and some things that just made us scratch our heads.  So, when you help build a trail, you’re also helping to clean up your local public land, leaving you feeling double happy.

PATCH YOUR TUBES

A Facebook Fan of the blog the other day mentioned that there must’ve been a quarter of a million dollars worth of bikes in the local Cat 3 race this past Sunday, fifty racers on five thousand dollar rigs.  He summarized a lot of the Cat 3 races have decent jobs and can afford a little luxury in their hobby.  Consequently, with wealth comes waste.  No doubt many of these riders simply whip in a new inner tube whenever they flat and toss the old tube in the trash.  I concur; most racers would hate to be sidelined in a race by flatting on a repaired inner tube.  However, for a few years now, I save my flatted tubes for a rainy day tube patching party.  I look forward to the bottle of Sierra Nevada and using up three patch kits.  While I still prefer to run unpatched tubes during races, the spare tube I carry on local training rides is usually a patched one.  Additionally, that makes it pretty easy to lend a tube to someone in need.  What goes around comes around.  

Fix It: Broken Cycling Jersey Zipper

Ka-bloop! Zip! Ka-bloop! Zip! So there I was at the table, my jersey zipper unable to cover up the spare tire. Ka-bloop! Maybe it was a sign. Maybe I’ve spent too much time reading the Fat Cyclist blog and not enough time riding. My jersey zipper broke during a post-ride lunch at Paxton’s revealing my untanned and untamed tiger trail exposed for all of Loveland to see. The little metal piece at the start of the zipper fell off somewhere. Great. I was THAT guy. Mom's covered their children's eyes. Eventually, I was able to zip it and roll the lower part of my jersey to keep El Gutto in check, for at least another 20 minutes. Then I got on my bike. Ka-bloop! Dammit. My riding buddies were quick to tell me that Widmers, the local dry cleaning chain, could fix it or I could send it back to Verge. At home, I had a stroke of genius.

In the laundry room were a few recent race bib numbers, still with their safety pins in them. The curve at the top of the pin that holds the pointy business-end caught my eye. It was the right length and, if cut in half, could simply be pinched on to my zipper to replace the little metal piece that fell off. Brilliant!

I broke out the wire clippers and snipped the curved piece in half. I slide the metal piece over the end of the zipper and crimped it with pliers. (photo shows an original jersey zipper on the left and my fix-it job on the right) Wah-freaking-lah! I zipped up. Zipped down. Zipped up. Zipped down. It worked to perfection. That's something to keep in mind in case of a race day blowout.

Happy Farmer Tan Day

The first week in June is when my farmer tan reaches its prime, when the contrast between my wedding dress white shoulders and Starbucks light roast brown arms causes non-cyclists to point and laugh. The Best Bike Blog Ever today hereby rolls up its short-pants to reveal the border between Pasteville and Tantown and proudly proclaims June 9^th Farmer Tan Day. Today’s the day to stop cowering in a fetal position on the sofa afraid to go out in public, and show off your well earned stripes.

In my early cycling days, I used to be embarrassed about the farmer tan, going so far as to wear a surfer shirt at the pool on vacations. Nowadays, maybe because my youthful quest to look buff has been overshadowed by a middle aged mission to race bicycles, not so much. Instead I revel in the achievement of cycling enough hours to make my arm freckles look like potting soil scattered across Moab slick rock.

However before you go around shocking your coworkers, please note that today is Farmer Tan Day and not freak hand tan day. Unless you’ve somehow been able to cover you entire body in cool polka dots to match the ones the glove hole made on your hands, it’s nearly impossible to rock a freak hand tan. Please, put your hands in your pockets or draw a smiley face on your tan hand freak dot till you can go for a ride sans gloves. The Best Bike Blog Ever has no appreciation for that horrific malady. Mercy will only be bestowed upon those who braved a log hot ride on a sun filled sweat soaked muggy day or a ride where gloves were an absolute necessity.

That said; rejoice in your spectacular stripes that no amount of SPF can strip. Grab yourself a Farmer Tan Red Ale and celebrate the sight of your righteous rice-white skin shorts. You earned it. Happy Farmer Tan Day. Now put on a freaking’ shirt for Pete’s sake! Farmer Tan Day is a holiday best celebrated alone.

Screamy Holler Complete – Update Covington’s Devou Park Trail Build

While I was swinging the Rhino, I wondered what this section of trail at Devou would be called.  Running adjacent to Sleepy Hollow Road, Screamy Holler seemed to fit the dirt.  Quads scream on the way up.  You holler on the way down.  Woo hoo Devou!

On the previous trail day I attended, the flowers under the railroad trestle had yet to bloom.  Saturday the yellow flowers were almost surreal.

With the help of well over one hundred Give Back Cincinnati volunteers, CORA tackled the deepest bench cut sections to date at Covington’s Devou Park Mountain Bike Trail.  Some sections ended up being two feet deep on the steep ravine-side roughly two-thirds of the way up to the first vista point.  Section #5 was the toughest.  At the end of the day, it was all hands on dirt, to bench the last of it.

So far, the completed trail section is officially long enough to question whether you really want to hike all-the-way up or take your bike instead.  It’s an hour round trip on foot; at the tipping point to where riding a bike (and all the prep that goes along with it) might be the more logical choice. 

No doubt, Cincinnati’s longest sustained mountain bike climb, or downhill, depending on which way you see it, is complete.  

To learn more and take part in the next trail building day, visit the CORA website here.

A previous post about the first big trail day at Devou is here.

Bike On The Moon But First, Antarctica

(Houston, TX - 04.01.09) The hatch of a former Apollo space capsule slammed shut this morning behind a pair of French ultra endurance cyclists who will spend three months of isolated training to simulate conditions for an upcoming attempt to circumnavigate Antarctica on a tandem mountain bike, funded by Fulzaprilidev, a private Russian space travel company.  The two must now live in the cramped refrigerated facility until the experiment ends 104 days later, allowing coaches and scientists to assess the effects of isolation and cold on their minds and bodies.  If successful the duo will proceed with their plans for Antarctica and may one day ride on the moon.

 

"How do I feel?  I am very motivated. There is a kind of relief. We have been working for a long time and finally we are getting to the start point," French Captain Avril Tompe Le Jour told reporters just hours ahead of the experiment.  "The challenge is to live and ride with the same person for a long period but it is a positive challenge. I think we are going to learn a lot about each other," added his Stoker teammate Très Drôle.  "The aim is to test the physiological and psychological effects of cold and isolation.  And, like the moon and Antarctica, this capsule is without a bicycle shop," he added.

 

(pictured left: Avril Trompe Le Jour on an training ride in the French Alpes) The two climbed into the facility at Houston’s Space Institute of Biomedical Problems (SIBMP) at 12:01 am CST and the hatch was firmly closed behind them.  They will not emerge again for the next three months unless they decide to pull out of the experiment for health or personal reasons.  “Unfortunately, we will miss half of the Tour De France,” Le Jour joked.  The cyclists will be allowed to take small personal effects like books, laptops and DVDs into the facility but, aside what would fit in the packs affixed to their specialized tandem bicycle will otherwise be sealed away from the world.  They will be travelling nowhere, but the aim of the experiment is to imitate the need for full autonomy that the three month circumnavigation of Antarctica will entail. 

 

As with a real trip, the supplies for the expedition have been painstakingly worked out in advance and no additional goods will be allowed to enter the capsule once the experiment starts.  In a bid to precisely simulate possible scenarios of a tandem circumnavigation around Antarctica, communications with the outside world will be limited to the battery life of a satellite phone.  They will be limited to two sets of cycling clothes each.  The workouts have been personally designed for the athletes to allow them to almost exactly simulate the rigors of riding on the ice for hours at a time. The former craft has been transformed and is made of three modules: one tent-size for sleeping, one refrigerated room that houses the knobby treaded tandem on rollers with a computer to track mileage and measure vital athlete biomedical information, and a third, just big enough to store the tools, food and supplies that would normally fit into panniers and highly modified carbon fiber trailer. 

 

The experiment is a joint project between a Fulzaprilidev, the SIBMP and the Ultra Endurance Cycling League (UECL) and will eventually lay the path for an as yet unplanned privately funded lunar attempt.  The three organizations are planning at the end of the year to send two more cyclists into the isolation facility for 205 days -- the estimated duration of a tandem bicycle trip around the southern pole of the moon. 

 

The two were chosen from a pool of over 4109 elite cyclists including American Triathlete April Foolsday.  

UFO or Unidentified Flying Calistoga Cyclocross Bike Racer

A teammate emailed this photo of me at the 2nd day of the Cincinnati UCI-3 day Weekend in Mddletown.  At first I thought, cool that's a nice photo of me, at least something good came out of my crappy showing in the Masters race.  Then, like most bike racers do, I wonderered how buff my legs look close up, so I zoomed in the photo and it revealed a Calistoga rider with his bike upside down and his arm halfway into the sand pit.  

I zoomed in again, last photo in series, and still don't know who that is.  

Since Calistoga riders are usually at the front of the pack, I'm guessing this sand wreck happened early in the race, because I later flatted and had a near death experience with overheating late in the race.  Leave a comment and let me know who that is and what the heck happened.

When Harry Met the Throttle Blaster

We have a saying when we go for rides in Kentucky. Usually my buddy Tony shouts out, “You know what’s wrong with this ride?!” The response is always a resounding, “Not a G-D thing!” Aside from the errant dog (our other saying is that it’s not a ride in Kentucky, till you get chased by a dog…and sometimes a 3-legger that can chase like he’s got six legs) and pickup truck with three polite young men who shout words of encouragement out the window, rides in Northern Kentucky are some of my all time favorites.

As profiling as it may seem, usually a ride down route 10 in Kentucky goes like this: pickup truck full of nice young men shouting positive messages out the window, dog, tobacco, “man this road just flows on forever,” tobacco, dog, “ooh look at the pretty view from the top of this ridge,” Baptist Church, bar, “ooh you can see the Ohio River from up here.” Also, it’s a very rare day to see a local riding a $3000+ bike instead of being inside a $300 pickup truck. There are two that I know personally, one of whom is Harry Wicks (pictured left in photo). He’s Appalachian born and bred. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a good ride in Northern Kentucky this past Saturday, so bad he didn’t come to a party at my house because he thought the black cloud hanging over his head would fall on my house. Thanks for looking out for me Harry!

In his own words (with some of mine tossed in like this), this is the story of Harry’s bad day. It helps if you read the story with an Eastern Kentucky drawl.

Hey Gang, (He writes gang, but really mean’s Y’all)

I suppose (fancy Ohio talk for “I reckon”) we all have days where things just don't go as planned, but Saturday, it seemed as if the gremlins were after me. Saturday, being a beautiful fall day and perfect riding weather, I thought that I would ride one of my "easier" routes so not to be dead for the race Sunday. (Easier in Harry’s neighborhood simply means the hilly route with only one mean foaming at the mouth chasing dog)

Things started off badly as I crashed on a corner within sight of my house that I have ridden thousands of times. I guess that I hit a rock and didn't have my brain tuned on yet. Anyway, the slide was for about 20 feet down hill on the blacktop and into the neighbor’s yard. (I told ya. You can’t make stuff like this up. Howdy neighbor!) I went back home and doctored on the road rash and set out again. Pain and bleeding are not going to ruin my day. (Okay if that doesn’t prove he’s a tough-ass Appalachian, I don’t know what will)

The following things happened to me over a 2 1/2 hour ride:

Almost was ran into head on by someone rounding a curve in a car, on the wrong side of the road. (Note to non-locals: sometimes they do drive on the left side of the road in the hills of Kentucky)

Almost ran over by someone on a motorcycle passing me in a corner to hot. I could have elbowed him in the face. It was that close. (For those that are into it, the hills of Northern Kentucky are a killer place to ride your Kawasaki Ninja 3000x Supa Bike)

Some redneck in a diesel truck drove next to me, slowed down and romped on the throttle- blasting me with diesel exhaust. (This may sound bizarre to some of you, but this throttle-blasting has happened to me on occasion, like a redneck farting in your face)

I had a flat.

Then my pump fell apart. (And, this is where I feel he should’ve went home and counted his blessings) I had to reassemble it on the side of the road.

Was chased by 3 dogs. (Remember, this was supposed to be the easy ride)

A lady going to her mailbox and looking directly at me, walked into the road right in front of me. I managed to whop (combination of whip and whoop) around her while out-sprinting her dog chasing me. (That would make dog #4 I believe, the quota for a weeks worth of rides in Kentucky in just one day)

A car passed around me as I was climbing up a blind hill and almost went head on into an oncoming car. I figured that I was to be the expendable "thing" in the way during a quick lane change, but everyone was safe and I continued on watching for the next misfortune.

By this time I was beginning to watch the sky for meteors heading my way.

I did servive. (That is precisely how you write the word "survive" with a southern drawl, and one of the reason's Harry is so endearing) Tomorrow will be a better day. See y'all at the race.

Harry