LBC News & Updates

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By: Melissa Hall

Gilda Radner 

It is the last TMD stage of 2025, and as all endings seem to do, it brings mixed feelings.  Maybe more so than usual as I remain unsure if I will ride the tour next year and that if I do not, it is one of the few times I see many of the Mad Dogs.  I know I have said that before, but one of these times it will hold true.   It will just depend upon how this old body winters. 

Life, it seems, has so many changes and goodbyes, but it also has new beginnings and hellos.  As Gilda so wisely points out, delicious ambiguity. Will our decisions bring heaven or hell or, as I have experienced, a strange amalgamation of the two.    But then,  one thing I have always loved about riding.....you never know what awaits just around the coming bend in the  road.  I grin thinking of the time I first encountered Depot Hill, a hill on my Mangler ride, and internally said, "Oh, no, what have I done?" Still, it sometimes bothers me, all the stories I know the beginning of  but will never know the ending of.  Those that used to ride centuries and the tour and I don't know where they are or how they are doing or what their interests are. The children and people I encountered while working.  

Three of us have been finishers every year since the TMD inception:  Mike "Diesel" Kamenish, Dave "Bam Bam" King, and myself.  Twenty years is a long time.  We have shared much: sun, rain, wind, snow, hills, hugs, laughter, mechanicals, jokes, and more.  It will be hard to say good-bye.  I have never been good with good-byes however inevitable they may be.  Mike and Dave, I hope you know that I love you both and how much I appreciate, or more appropriately perhaps, treasure our friendship.  I will see what the winter brings and whether spring draws me out as is her wont whispering to come ride with her and she will share the glory of rebirth with me.  And, of course, there is the lure of our little competition as to who will be the last dog standing;-)

I can say I am no longer a fan of cold weather riding, and this last stage promises a cold beginning.  It is supposed to warm though, and while I know there are some climbs that will make my legs vow revenge, there are no 21 percent grades like last weeks century.  (Please remember, Dogs, that there is a catalogue on the LBC web site of most of the past tour stages, some of which have not been done in a long time).  An additional attraction is that it is a course we have not done for awhile.  

Experience has taught me, that soon I will be longing for a day with today's temperatures.  It has also taught me that if I don't ride, by this afternoon I will regret that decision.   Fall is so brief.  Already many trees stand bare and exposed.  There is beauty there, daguerreotypical in nature. I have always wondered why, in so many older photos, people do not smile but face the camera grim faced and stern with no welcome on their face or in their eyes.  Winter has a cold, stark beauty reminding me of magazine models who are so physically perfect but have no warmth in their smiles.   So, I pack my gear, make sure my bike is ready, and head out into the dark to the ride start.  Despite my cursing under my breath, my whining, and my procrastination, it is just what I do. 

I had contacted Fritz earlier asking him to be honest about whether he would prefer I stay home as I feel fairly certain I will be the slowest rider and he will feel obligated to stay with me.  It is not so bad when a ride captain only captains once and sweeps, but Fritz has captained more than his share this year.  And Fritz is so fast.  There is more than a little disparity between our speeds. He assures me it is okay.  I had forgotten, however, that the time has changed and that I can head out a bit early.   I truly don't want to be a bother.  I also know from much experience as a Ride Captain, that cold and hard riding conditions shorten patience and tolerance, at least for me. 

One thing that always gets me about hard courses this time of year is that you know you will soon lose any strength you gain from riding them.  This is not a hard course, per say, but it has numerous climbs.  In the spring and summer you can console yourself or talk yourself through the painful moments knowing that your legs are hardening and that the next ride will be made easier because of it.  You know that the hill that seems insurmountable today will not seem quite so steep or so long the next time you set out to conquer it. Because that is what we do with hills.  We use our strength to try to vanquish them. Those hard, painful rides make for the rides where you feel strong and as if you could ride forever and conquer any hill someone puts in your way.  But that consolation is lost in the fall when you know that winter will slowly leach away the strength you have built leaving you weak in the spring.  

There is a larger turn out than I expect as it seems that once the morning becomes raw and biting and people have their ten centuries in, they tend to chose the bed over the road.   15 people sign in:  Jon Wineland, Larry Preble, Steven Sarson, Bob Evancho, Michael Kamenish, Jerry Talley, Harley Wise, Todd King, Glenn Smith, Dominic Wasserzug, Sharon Jetter, Ken Johnson (unsure of that name), Tom Brag (also unsure of that name), and Fritz Kopatz.  

As I noted earlier, since it is daylight I roll out early hoping not to hold Fritz up too much during the ride.  Three others decide to roll with me:  Larry Preble, Jon Wineland, and Steve Sarson.  I am glad I have not only my rear view blinker but my front blinker on the bike today.  The fog is dense and I think to myself how true though banal the term "thick enough to cut with a knife is" when describing it.  Water is literally dripping off my helmet though it is not raining. My glasses quickly fog to the point where I realize I can't wear them and still see, so I prop them further down my nose to clear my line of vision.  This, however, impedes my seeing my GPS, but since I am following it is not a huge issue.  It is the best I can do with full finger gloves on.  I would have to stop to wangle them into a pocket, and I am not stopping. With no eye protection, the wind bites my eyes making me glad I remembered to use my artificial tears this morning but I know I will later pay the price with scratchy eyes.  But safety takes precedence.  

We ride through a construction site and not only is the pavement still wet, but there is lots of mud covering the road that is getting splashed onto my bike.  I think how I wish I had brought the Lynskey.  My new bike has never seen these conditions and I shudder internally at the thought of her drive train.  But the damage is done and I will not let one bad decision ruin the day.  At least there is a warm day predicted next week and I will be able to do a thorough cleaning.  

We ride together to the first store stop.  At one point I ask Jon if he thinks we will ever leave the yellow lined roads and get onto some rural country.  Jon knows these roads better than I because he rides them more regularly.  He assures me that we will. Inside the store is a young man curious about our riding.  When someone tells him where we started from and the time, he asks if they mean we started at eight the previous night.  It makes me think about how very little those who do not ride really understand those of us that do or what we do.  He then lights up a cigarette and I move outside, the smoke bothering me.  Prior to that, however, I did see that Sharon was riding.  I knew she needed this century to get her ten but I did not see her at the start, so I am really happy she is here. 

I head out with a faster group but quickly decide to ride my own pace and little by little, they edge ahead.  I expect those behind me to catch me, but it never happens and I ride the rest of the day alone.  I truly am not unhappy with this development as it will allow me to ride and climb at my own pace without feeling that I have to ride harder or that I am holding anyone up.  It will allow me to savor scenery that might otherwise get screened out by conversation. Besides , I am in a pensive mood, not uncommon for me in the fall.

  Later, while doing the long climb up to Port Royal, I find myself thinking, for the first time in years, of sitting in my mother's lap while she read me "The Little Engine That Could."  "I think I can, I think I can" I say to myself with a huge smile on my face.  Thoughts and memories like this come so much more frequently when one is riding alone. 

At the start, people were concerned that Fritz had taken the route off of Carlisle Road and put it on 42.  Many say they are going to stay on Carlisle and I figure I will too, but since I am alone I stay on route. The only issue I see is that if Fritz and the others behind me take Carlisle and I don't, they could get in front of me.   Still, I figure that is better than turning around and maybe getting lost.

Frankly, I will say that 42 had little traffic and was quite scenic so I am a bit confused.   There were many, many busy roads on this century with little to no shoulder.  42 is not one of them.  It does not have a shoulder, but it just isn't that busy compared to quite a bit of this course.  I think three cars pass me in seven miles.  The only issue I see with 42 is that it dumps you out a bit earlier on 36 and 36 into town is not a pleasant road, even from Carlisle.  Jon knows a way around most of this and said Sharon shared that road with him, so if I would ever ride this century again, I will have to ask him.

Anyway, once on 36 I see the group just climbing the rise to the bridge to go to Welch's.  I don't know if it is Fritz or the front group, but I have decided just to stop at the gas station as I am not the Welch's fan that many are.  Once there, I text Fritz telling him what I have done and not to worry about me.  I later learn that Fritz also took 42, so it must have been the first group I viewed. After eating, I receive a text from Jon checking on me.  I tell him what I have done and head out.  I will see no other riders the rest of the day other than Todd who passes me coming in to town while I stop to check the cue sheet.  

I think more of what Thomas Nance said last century about people riding for different reasons and realize I never did address it.  Instead I spoke about the different types of riding which, while they may be a reflection of why people ride, does not really address it.  I decide that over the years, I have ridden for different reasons, and I suspect that is true of most of us.   Riding can be about winning.  It can be about companionship or it can be about solitude.  It can be about keeping weight off or losing weight.  It can be about fitness and staying in shape.  It can be about challenging yourself and your body and it can be about disciplining your body and yourself.  And so much more.  The main point, I suppose, is not to disparage someone for the reason they ride.  We may not understand the why, but it is important to them, and we are all united in our love the bike.  

I can't tell you much about what happened to the group during the ride.  I understand that a couple of people thought the coffee at lunch was not very good while another thought it was "okay."  I can tell you that if you ordered roast beef  you were served quickly, but otherwise you waited.  I ended the ride alone, passed only by Todd near the end.  A surprise for me as I expected to end the season as the chubby anchor.   I can also tell you that the photos of Welch's at lunch made me rather jealous, but I still think I made the right decision for me at the time.  Still, it made me smile seeing the smiles on your faces.  Maybe that is the perfect ending for the tour, or as perfect as it can be.  You took the moment and made the best of it. Well done, Dogs. 

To those Dogs I don't see again before spring or ever, have a wonderful holiday season.  May it fill and caress you with love and warmth and happiness.  Thank you for riding.  Dream of the spring when the tour will start once again though.  Dream of bicycles, challenge yourselves,  and COME OUT AND PLAY!  

"When eating fruit, remember

the one who planted the tree."

Vietnamese Proverb

It seems only right on this, the conclusion of the twentieth year of the Tour de Mad Dog, to pay  homage to the creator of the tour: Tim Chilton.  Thank you, Tim. While Tim no longer rides with the LBC and the tour has changed to the point where it is nothing like the original, still it survives.  I suppose that to survive, it  had to do what all of us do to survive:  be amenable to change.  As Kahil Gibran once said, "For life goes not backward or tarries with yesterday."  So, Tim, I hope that somehow you know that your creation lives on, however different it may have become,  and that those who completed the tour now and in the past owe you a debt of gratitude.  For to complete the tour means something.  If it didn't, people would not include it in their obituaries, as at least two of our past riders have done.  It is not something that changes the world in any way, but perhaps it changes something in ourselves. 

While it seems rather immodest because it includes myself, I would be remiss not to bring up that there are three of us who have completed the tour all twenty years since it's inception:  Mike Kamenish, Dave King, and myself.  Thanks for the competition gentlemen.  There were many times it got me out the door when I was reluctant to ride.     

The tour is, perhaps, more than just a series of bike rides.  It is a chance to test yourself and your resolve, for to ride 10 centuries in a season is no mean feat.  And the majority of you rode more than the required ten. It means facing hills that make your legs cry and wind that slaps you around.  It means standing up to  sun that scorches you and threatens to drain you dry of all bodily fluids and rain that often chills you to the bone even on the hottest of days.  It means going on at times when your mind is screaming at you to stop and your muscles ache and beg for rest and your butt hurts.  It means giving up sleeping in on Saturday mornings and a leisurely breakfast and instead rolling out onto strange roads where you don't know what might meet you around the next bend. It means paying attention to your eating and your hydration and to the bicycle that carries you.  It means commitment to planning and executing a goal.  In the end,  it means mastering not only the course, but mastering yourself. 

Of course, and maybe most importantly,  it also means fun.  There is nothing like being free to spend the day with friends on a bicycle. For the tour brings with it  a chance to make friends, friends that encourage you or challenge you to be stronger and better than you ever thought you could be, to endure and to finish even when you are tired or feeling poorly, to give those bad times the finger, move on and finish.  It means being with people who share your passion and who can give you advice and make you laugh until your sides hurt and you find the smile you thought you had lost somewhere along the way.   Honestly, most of these friendships will fade if you stop riding, but they will give you memories to hold onto when the world just seems too cold and scary to face it alone. And it is a chance to learn things about yourself, that you are tougher than you thought, that you have what it takes to finish.  

This tour has been especially meaningful for me because it is the first time I have had the privilege to  be one of the Tour Directors.  I am so thankful to Fritz for sharing that position with me and for the many contributions he has made to make the year a success.  And of course I am thankful for the people who stepped up to captain.  The tour could not happen without you.  Jon Wineland, Thomas Nance, Bob Grable, Mike Kamenish, Larry Preble, Amelia Dauer, Susan Pyron, John Pyron, John Pelligrino, Bekki Livingston,  Tom Askew, Christian Juckett, Dee Schreur, and Paula Pierce, we owe you a debt of gratitude for stepping up to the plate.    Some of you had to make other arrangements due to circumstances beyond your control, but the fact that you volunteered meant a lot. What is most amazing to me is that some of you did it despite having no intention of completing the tour.  Thank you! And special thanks to Dave King as well who organized the time trial.   

This years tour had 22 stages and one time trial.  There were no cancellations, though I know there were some ride captains that had to make very tough calls a couple of times.  That is one of the difficult things about captaining.  You don't want to take people out in weather that is dangerous, but you don't want to cancel and find that there was no need.  I remind anyone that is critical of our captains that they are often in a lose/lose situation.  If they cancel some are upset and if they don't others are upset.  It ranks right up there with the, "Does this dress make me look fat?" question.  You can't win no matter your answer.  So please, be gentle with our ride captains and remember it is not a paid position.  

This year also saw the return of the traditional  overnight back to back centuries though it was a new course and a new destination rather than the traditional trek to Mammoth Cave.  It had quite the turn out and while it turned out to be one tough week-end with the heat and endless hills, it was a ride those who completed will, I dare say, always remember because of the terrible heat and the difficulty of the courses.   Those rides, the rides that challenge us, are the ones we tend to remember because they show us what it means to endure and conquer.   I hope everyone felt the same sense of pride upon finishing that I did because I know it was a struggle.  Would I do it again.....heck yeah.  So glad I didn't miss the adventure and the challenge.

We also saw a couple of old centuries dragged out of the closet:  Pottershop and Buckner Riverdance.  If you captain next year, please remember there is a list and GPS files for many of the centuries that have been done as tour stages in the past on the club web site.  A few riders had not met Pottershop before and now know what the fuss was all about.  I can't mention Pottershop without mentioning Stewart Prather, now at rest.  Stewart was, if I remember correctly, the one who first found Pottershop and introduced it to the club.   

This year also saw a new point system.  I will be suggesting a few changes to Fritz that I think will make it more fair, but it will, of course, be up to him.  It also is the first year where winners are unable to win for another three years.  This change was based upon survey results and was what the majority wanted.  Congratulations to Larry Preble who soundly spanked everyone in the competition. 

This year there were 19 finishers and roughly 70 club members who completed at least one stage.  There were participating riders from Southern Indiana Wheelmen, Madison Bicycle Club, Major Taylor Bicycle Club and Ridenfaden (some riders were joint members of clubs) who joined us as well as others that had no club affiliation or whose club affiliation I don't know about.  The oldest  person riding one of the stages was Paul Battle and the youngest was Zeke Ledford (still in high school I believe).  Finishers were as follows:  

Tom Askew        13 stages

Keith Baldwin        12 stages

John Dippold            12 stages

Bob Evancho            12 stages

David Frey        11 stages

Bob Grable        17 stages

Melissa Hall        18 stages

Sharon Jeter         10 stages

Michael Kammenish        13 stages

David King         13 stages

Fritz Kopatz        18 stages

Larry Preble        20 stages

Steven Sarson        10 stages

Glenn Smith        16 stages

Jerry Tally        14 stages

Dominic Wasserzug        10 stages

Jon Wineland        18 stages

Harley Wise        14 stages

Thomas Nance     12 stages 

Congratulations to each and every one of you on being a finisher.  And thank you for making it such a special year to be one of the Directors.  It was truly an honor and a pleasure.   Hope to see you in 2026.  

To the finishers:  Please be on the look out in the near future for the order  form for your award jersey. The more quickly everyone responds, the more quickly the order can be placed.    

Also, please consider captaining a ride.  The tour can't happen without ride captains and some riders had to captain two or more stages last year.  To ride captain, you need to sweep the ride and check the course ahead of time for any issues.  But.....if everyone takes a turn it is not so hard to stay in the back for one ride.  Plus, as noted earlier, there are established routes available on the LBC web site if you don't want to create your own.  It is always good to give back. Fritz will be sending out the schedule in the near future.    

Lastly, if you are interested in the tour, please remember to request membership in the TMD Google group.  When you make your request, please include your name, club membership status  (you don't have to be a club member but it helps with SPAM requests), whether you know a club member, or whether you are a member of another club.   Requests can be made at either tourdemaddog@louisvillebicycleclub.com or tour-de-mad-dog@googlegroups.com

View the November Newsletter HERE

By: Dominic Wasserzug and John Fong

John Fong’s widow Kim Fong was present at the start of the ride briefing. With her was Brenda Kopatz, close friend of Kim and wife of Fritz Kopatz who is the ride captain for today’s Mad Dog. The morning’s autumn light carried a tinge of amber which emanated warmth on an otherwise brisk October morning. Fritz and fellow club members took a moment to share some touching words about how great John was. Fritz remarked about how John was always making friends everywhere. Indeed, one rider present named Christopher mentioned that he met John online on Zwift. Following remarks, John Pellegrino presented the Mad Dog jersey that John Fong designed for the 2023 Mad Dog season in a touching display. Pellegrino explained that this particular jersey was special because it had been signed by John Fong himself.

As a matter of special mention, rider Matt Mangun who worked with John at UPS completed his first ever Mad Dog ride with us in honor of his dear friend and co-worker. We welcome Matt into our pack and thank him for pushing his limits to honor John with us. Thank you for your commitment to this ride.

And this was a sentimental ride. At face value it is sentimental because the ride honors the memory of a fellow rider that is no longer with us. The real meaning to that, though, is found in why we ride. Exploring those reasons, I think, is important to understand that significance. Throughout the ride, I would discover those reasons through the experiences of our journey.

The first reason would come to me before the ride even begins. Jonathan Minucci would remark at how wide awake I appeared when he greeted me. I would joke that I had already been up for four hours and he would explain that he had already watched all the TV series Lost and even baked some bread, none of which is true of course. This is typical comradery poking light at the fact that we go to great lengths to rise early in the morning and head out on epic bicycle rides with friends. While rooted in humor the sentiment remains that we are all very dedicated to our hobby.

Indeed, in one of John’s last Facebook posts he stated what started as a hobby ten years ago bloomed into a passion, and passion takes dedication. I don’t know exactly how many rides John did in those years. John’s final club milage count remains at 11,513 miles and I know that not all his rides were LBC rides. It takes serious dedication to rack up those miles. That is a lot of metaphorical bread and early mornings.

The next reason comes from a conversation with Larry Preble. At some point during the ride, he and I started to take notice of what crops remained for the harvest along the side of the country backroads we were riding—a frequent pastime on Mad Dog rides. One crop, we decided appeared to be Kale, to which Larry exclaimed, what would be one of many infamous Larry puns on this ride, “kale for what k-ails you”. Not to worry, this will be the only pun I report on here. This kale you pun, however, is apt for this ride.

John also remarked in his last post how cycling taught him life lessons, and I believe that we each have kale we bring with us to the road and in our journey, we learn our lessons. The kale comes is all different shades and varieties, but I believe it is in large part why so many of us keep coming back time and time again. Everyone’s kale is theirs and theirs alone to grapple with and yet we all ride this ride together on road and in life. As John would point out, it is the journey and not the destination. This is a sentiment that we are all familiar with, but it is the shared journey that makes this so special.

The last core reason was experienced with all of the other riders on this day, and that is the beauty of the world around us and life itself. Repeatedly we all were basking in what was unseasonably amazing weather for the third Saturday in October. The clouds looked as though they were painted on a backdrop of perfectly serene clear blue skies. So much of how we see and experience the world depends on the weather, and the weather today can only be described as heavenly. At each turn on this ride, mother nature did not disappoint, as we were greeted with picturesque scenes all of which could provide a lifetime of fall calendar photos. Dreams of peace and serenity never looked as clear and vivid.

John described life as a mist. His perspective on eternal life points out that, while life as we know it in this world is but a temporary state of being, the beauty of the things we are so fortunate to get to experience makes our short time on this earth even more important. Sometimes that weather is tumultuous and unpredictable, and those moments may reveal us in ways that we’d rather not journey. Learn to embrace each day and find beauty within it no matter the horizon, and you will learn to appreciate all days and life itself.

With that I will leave you with John’s last message to us all on Facebook in this report so it may be forever part of our record. We love you, John Fong, on all days and eternally.

"""

Life is a Mist: 10 Years of Cycling, Lessons from the Road

About ten years ago, I clipped into a pair of pedals for the first time. What began as a simple hobby quickly became something much greater—a passion, a source of growth, and a lens through which I’ve come to see the world.

As I reflect on this decade of riding, the memories flood in: the thrill of cresting grueling climbs, the quiet joy of sunrise rides, the satisfaction of smashing personal records, and even the humbling grind of headwinds. Cycling has gifted me so many unforgettable moments, but it has also brought something deeper—friendships forged on the road. Together, we’ve shared victories, pushed through pain, and built bonds that extend far beyond the miles we’ve ridden.

Yet, cycling has been more than just a sport for me. It has been a teacher. From the saddle, I’ve learned lessons that shape my daily life: how to press on through discomfort, how to appreciate the journey rather than fixate on the destination, and how to find beauty in the struggle. Each ride has been a reminder to keep moving forward, no matter how distant the finish line might feel.

But as I sit here today, reflecting on the road behind me, I’m also staring at a climb ahead—one that is steeper and more uncharted than anything I’ve faced on two wheels. This season of life has brought challenges I never trained for. No amount of miles, intervals, or endurance rides could have prepared me for what lies ahead.

Still, cycling has taught me this: when the climb feels insurmountable, keep pedaling. There will be moments when stopping seems like the only option, but pushing through leads to growth, strength, and a perspective you can’t gain any other way. It’s in the struggle that character is formed and hope is renewed.

For now, I take it one mile, one day at a time, trusting that the strength, discipline, and faith in Christ I’ve gained through years of riding will carry me forward. While the road ahead may be difficult, I remain hopeful. There are more memories to create, more milestones to celebrate, and more opportunities to grow—if God wills.

Life, like cycling, is a mist. It’s fleeting and fragile, but it’s also full of beauty and purpose when lived with an eternal perspective.

Here’s to the road ahead—every climb, every mile, every challenges in life and every blessing waiting on the journey.

“Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope.”

—Romans 5:3–4

"""-John Fong

Completing today’s Mad Dog ride is as follows:

John Dippold

Alan McCoy

Tony Konvalin

Larry Preble

Fritz Kopatz

Steven Sarson

Bob Garble

Harley Wise

Matt Mangun

Jerry D. Tally

David Frey

Dominic Wasserzug

View the October Newsletter HERE

"Memories are the treasures we keep locked

deep within the storehouse of our souls,

to keep our hearts warm when we 

are lonely."

Becky Aligada

It is finally here, the second Saturday of October.  This has come to mean, at least for me,  the  Medora Century, at least if the weather cooperates.  And today it does.  Sunshine and light winds.  A bit cool at the start though not as cool as it has been at times in the past, Warm enough for shorts without leg or knee warmers.  Later in the day it will be warm enough to discard arm warmers and vests and jackets and ride short sleeved.  Precious weather any time of year, but particularly with fickle October who often likes to tease us with a bit of warmth, then slap us with wind, cold, and rain.    

Medora is not the most scenic club century by far, but there is just something about it that I like.  Perhaps it is the countless memories I have made over the years, memories of those that still and those that don't still ride.  Or perhaps it is the ease of the course or perhaps it is just the time of year and the feeling of melancholy that stems from knowing the cycling season is, for many, coming to a close.  And I must not be alone because 35 people sign in  and I am unsure how many more from Ridenfaden and Southern Indiana Wheelmen are here.  The following people sign in on the pink sign in sheets:  Tom Askew, Larry Preble, John Killebrew,  Harley Wise, Paula Pierce, Glenn Smith, Dominic Wasserzug, Mark Rougeux, William Bicknell, Paul Battle, John Dippold, David King, Brooks Hellenbrand, Jackie Rountree, Fritz Kopatz, Steven Sarson, John Pelligrino, Amelia Dauer, Keith Baldwin, Steve Puckett, Sharon Jeter, Jon Wineland, Joe Bolan, Zeke Ledford, Mike Corus, Dan Barriere, Bob Grable, Jeff Schrode, Thomas Nance, John Mahorney, Andrew Degs, Brandon Havel, Mike Ngong, and myself.  (not sure of some of the spelling of last names).  

Most, though not all, are wearing pink of some type, honoring the town we are about to visit and the fight against cancer, a disease that affects so many of us.  This year I went with my pink witch hat at the start, pink socks, pink jersey and vest, and pink gloves.  I smile remembering how dismayed I was when Steve brought me back pink gloves when I asked him to pick up wool gloves for me.  I still see his smirking in my mind for nobody gets dirtier on a ride than I seem to do.  Who knew that they would come in so useful in the future;-)  Another memory. I also have bought myself pink handlebar streamers, something I desperately longed for as a child but never received (along with a banana seat bicycle that I never was lucky enough to receive and now, sadly, have outgrown). 

The TMD has had two pink reward jerseys though different shades of pink.  Some, like myself, have on the older jersey and some are wearing last years.  Others have jerseys that have pink in them.  Dave King is riding a bike that is partially painted pink.  Paula Pierce has her pink wig, though I think she gave it a trim from last year, and a tutu.  Amelia Dauer once again is clad in her tutu.  Paul Battle is wearing his 150,000 mile pink jersey, pink socks, and a helmet cover that has pink on it. (For this century, Paul will take the honors that have thus been accorded to Larry Preble this year as the oldest rider on the century).  Steven Sarson has on his pink panties over his riding shorts.  I hear one rider, I think I remember it was Harley Wise, saying how he priced a pink jersey but it was just too expensive.   And there are more riders wearing pink of some kind, getting into the spirit of the day.  Such a crowd that I have trouble taking it all in and certainly don't remember all of it.  Everyone seems to be in a good mood and the air seems to hum with anticipation.  It brings a smile to my face.  There is nothing like the feel of anticipation that seems to hover in the air before a ride and with not knowing what joys and challenges the day might bring. 

Paula comes up to me asking if Tom Askew and David Frey can get a helping point for helping her get to the ride.  Evidently her battery went dead along the way and she was on the verge of calling her husband to pick her up.  Teasingly, I tell her no:   the point is only for help on the ride, but I quickly tell her yes after seeing her disappointment.  I am just glad that she got here and a tad worried about how she will get home.  With the late start, she may be fighting darkness on her trip home. 

 Prior to the ride, Thomas Nance had texted me that if I see his car and not him, he is riding the Fire Tower to do the Fire Tower Challenge.  Amelia tells me she arrived before he left.  Only two riders have completed the challenge thus far:  Jon Wineland (who does it again today) and Samuel Bland.  I have done both climbs, but not on the same day.  Jon Wineland teased me with the idea during the pre-ride, but I declined.  Thomas is, by the way, successful but he brings back memories of my first, failed attempt to climb the one in Clark Forestry when he says his front wheel kept coming up off the road due to the steepness.  That was my issue the first time I attempted to climb the fire tower hill.  I failed that day but later was successful even making it up on my double as I got stronger.  It also brings back a memory of taking Grasshopper to climb and him looking at me and saying he didn't know you could go so slowly on a bike and still stay upright.  Amelia talks about how she quit climbing it because it caused her knees to hurt and they don't normally hurt and I agree.  It is one hard climb and helmets off to anyone who climbs it and then another challenging hill later the same day.  

Joe Bolan from SWI asks about dogs telling me that dogs had bothered him awhile back on a road that is part of the route.  I tell him they didn't bother me on the pre-ride, but we should let people know.  Dominic Wasserzug has brought a bar code people can scan if they want to participate in next years Bike to Beat Cancer and asks that I put it with my sign out sheet.  John Pelligrini has brought a photo of last year that shows John Fong and Tom Hurst and remarks how hard it is to believe that we have lost both of them.   Later, during the pre-ride speech, John Mahorney reminds us of their loss.  It makes me think about how fragile we are and how our days are, indeed, numbered.  I remember Tom telling me during his illness that it was so strange to him because he had never been in such good shape before in his life.  One thing age has taught me is that life is full of loss making it even more important to cherish these days when we feel happy, healthy, and strong and the friends and family that we have that our still with us.  

After a short speech urging everyone to have fun, the groups take off and that is the last I will see of most of them except for when I am nearing Medora and they are leaving it.  I am late leaving the parking lot as Dave King forgot gloves.  I loan him my short fingered gloves (not pink) and then Mike Ngong says he left his gloves in the car.  Finally we are off chasing the group.  Mike tells me it is his second century.  What he does not tell me is that he has not ridden a bicycle outside for six or eight weeks (I can't remember for sure which) but has been spinning at the Y.  I tell him that since I don't know how he rides,  he has to tell me if I am going to quickly or slowly for him.   While it is hard to imagine anyone being slower than me anymore, it does occasionally happen, and with centuries, one must absolutely do two things:  pace oneself and eat.  Meanwhile he is trying to find the route on his phone.   Eventually he does and this enables him to move ahead. 

We are not too far into the ride when I come upon a group at the side of the road:  Steve Sarson, Brooke Hillenbrand, Larry Preble, and Bob Grable.  Brooke has broken his rear derailleur cable.  Fortunately, Steve Sarson has one; however, as they try to put it on they discover it is too short.  I carry one on the Lysnkey, but not on my Calfee since it has electronic shifting.  Nobody else has one. Much discussion ensues about whether to tie the cable off so he has a couple of gears or to try to tie the old and new cable together.  Bob is carrying wire cutters.  Just as they are trying to tie it off, Jon Wineland arrives saving the day with a cable that is long enough to reach the rear.  Frankly, prior to this I did not know there were different length cables.  Brooke seems to feel badly about holding everyone up, but I am so glad he came out to play.  As Jon Wineland has been known to say, "We have all day."

Meanwhile, the jokes fly and the laughter fills the air becoming somewhat bawdy but eliciting loud guffaws from all.  I hate to think what would have happened had I, a woman, not been there with my gentle, restraining presence to tone it down a bit because of course I would never engage in or condone such ribaldry (Okay, I admit I participated a bit. Too many of you know me to lie so blatantly;-)  Anyway, the details of what happens or is said  in Vienna stays in Vienna.   

As we leave, Larry asks us to follow his slowly as he wants to use his drone to take some footage.  Unfortunately, the drone ends up crashing into a tree.  He finds it more quickly than I would expect for him to and we are back on the road.   

When we arrive at the store stop, everyone is gone.  This doesn't surprise me because our repair stop took awhile.  But what happens next does surprise me because after a quick bite and drink, we begin to head out only to find that Brooke has a flat tire.  It takes little time to fix it, however, and we are on our way. It interests me that he has one of the new, brightly colored tubes.  I am beginning to see them more and more often on rides.  I ask about them and am told they are very light. 

By now the dew has worn off the Fox Tail and other weeds which glimmered and beguiled earlier in the ride as if there were a field of diamonds sparkling brightly in the sun.  The slight fog that hugged the earth has lifted.  Most of the trees are still green, but there are hints that fall has arrived and their days are coming to a close.  We pass fields of soy beans and corn some of which have been harvested and many of which have not.  A few fields are being worked, but less than I would expect on such a fine week-end day for many of the farmers here work second jobs as well as farming.    

As we near Medora, we see two large groups of riders heading back.  We stop for a photo at the covered bridge and Larry sets his drone to fly through in front of us as we ride through.  Bob mentions getting a tire stuck in one of the cracks in the past and I remember that I normally caution people to walk rather than ride through, but none of us has an issue, maybe as most of us no longer ride on tires only 23 or 25 wide.  

There are still oodles of riders at the festival despite the two groups that have eaten and left.  The car show is still there and a few of the cars have been decorated for Halloween.  I chuckle at the car with the huge skeleton climbing on top.  I am surprised at the small crowd at the festival.  Normally there are more people.  Is it because we have arrived a bit later?  I am glad I didn't wear another cape to give away as I did last year because I am not sure who I would have given it to though I did see children pass in the barrel ride.  

We eat and prepare to head out when Mike walks up only having just gotten himself a piece of fish to eat.  He seems surprised to see the group ready to leave and refuses our offer to wait.  He puts it in his pack and we take off though I caution him about the need to eat on a century.  

When we get to the bridge that I had cautioned the group about because it has a large lip to it that could easily pop a tire, we find the group waiting.  A photo is taken and then Larry again sets his drone to fly ahead of us.  At some point, however, the drone hits the ground due to an accident and I later learn that the photos taken throughout the ride are probably lost as it won't restart. If it does not restart, the photos will be lost as the drone has an internal SIM card.  

The group again splits and Mike and I finish together at the back.  He says he is very proud of himself and I feel proud for him and his accomplishment and wonder if he will attempt to complete the TMD next year.  One never knows who will and who will not fall in love with century riding. Centuries are, indeed, an accomplishment.  And those first few centuries where one learns pacing, eating, etc. more so.  Some of the group is still at the end and I grin seeing how many have adopted Dave King's after ride Moomoo dress.  It is then that I learn that Steve Puckett took a tumble, clipping Jon's back wheel.  I am so relieved to find he was not injured. As I dress under a towel for pizza, I think maybe I should join in and purchase a Moomoo.  It would be easier.  A group of seven or eight go out for pizza and  then Medora is officially finished for this year.  And there are new memories to keep me warm when I am lonely or when my century days are complete.  Like fall, they give me mixed feelings: happiness intertwined with melancholy.  Thanks, everyone, for coming out to play.  I hope you formed some memories that you can remember with a smile on your face during the cold winter months and in the future.  Just know that you are treasured and that though I didn't ride with many or even most of you, I am SO glad you were there.  

Finishers who signed in are as follows:

Joe Bolan        3:33   group of 1 

John Dippold    4:03   group of 9

Harley Wise       4:03    group of 9

Sharon Jeter   4:03   group of 9

Fritz Kopatz  4:03 group of 9

John Killenbrew   4:03  group of 9

Keith Baldwin    4:03  group of 9

Glenn Smith  4:03  group of 9

Dan Barriere    4:03  group of 9

Andrew Dean    4:03   group of 9

Tom Askew     4:06  group of 1

Jeff Schrode       4:30  group of 1

Thomas Nance     4:45    group of 1

John Pelligrini    5:30    group of 1

Mark Rougeux    4:45  group of 1

Larry Preble    5:37     group of 11

Steven Sarson    5:37 group of 11

Jackie Rountree    5:37 group of 11

Zeke Ledford        5:37  group of 11

Brooke Hillenbrand    5:37  group of 11

Bob Grable        5:37 group of 11

Dominic  Wasserzug    5:37 group of 11

Amelia Dauer    5:37 group of 11

Steve Puckett    5:37 group of 11

Paul Battle     5:37 group of 11

Jon Wineland  5:37  group of 11

David Fry    5:37 group of 11

Paula Pierce   5:37  group of 11

David King   5:37   group of 11

Melissa Hall  5:44  group of 2

Mike Ngong   5:44 group of 2    

See the September 2025 Newsletter HERE

By: Melissa Hall

"Alas, the summer sun can't last 

forever.  The days will grow cooler and

shorter and our skin will once again pale."

Sarah McLean

With the promise of ninety degrees or more later in the day, I walk out my door to head for the ride clad only in riding shorts and a short sleeved jersey.  "Will this," I wonder, "be the last ninety degree day?"  There is the mere hint of fall's coolness in the morning air, but it is just that:  a hint and promise of what is not yet here but inevitably will become reality.  Leaving for a ride scantily clad will become less and less likely to be a reality.  And it is dark.  Even for a ride starting at 8:00 a.m. there is a bit of driving in the dark to reach the starting point.  "Where," I ask  myself as I drive, "did the summer run off to?" for it does not seem that enough time has passed for it to end.  I have always read that as you age, time passes more quickly.  Sometimes it does and at other times it drags, but the seasons certainly fly.  Well, all except winter which can seem like it is eternal when it clutches the world with arthritic ridden fingers that will not seem to unclasp and will not allow themselves to be pried apart. 

While I leave plenty of time and arrive forty five minutes prior to the ride start, there are others there before me.  Car after car pulls in.  Because there are two rides today, a shorter ride and a TMD century, it is hard to tell  which distance people are riding.   There are smiles on faces and a swirling quilt of brightly colored jerseys weaving in and out as people go about their business of getting ready.  There is the soft, somehow comforting,  murmur of talking and occasional peals of laughter or chortling that bring a smile to my face.  There are the sounds of wheels turning and gears shifting as people make sure everything on their bike is in order and working.   I hear Mike Kamenish tease Jon Wineland who is returning a cooler to me about whether he had brought body parts to the ride for disposal (yes, only Mike) and I think how much I cherish the anticipation that fills the air for it is summer and we are about to explore the world on bicycles.  The day shines with promise. 

As it turns out, Paula and Dee have 24 riders show up for their century, a century that was designed by Jon Fong who is not longer with us and is much missed.  I suspect he touches many riders hearts today in thought and prayer and a reminder of how, despite our apparent health and strength,  fragile we are.  Riders are as follows:  Paula Pierce, Steven Sarson, Larry Preble, Tom Askew, David Frey, Bob Evancho, Dee Schreur, Fritz Kopatz, Dominic Wasserzug, Vince Livingston, Jon Wineland, Harley Wise, Bob Grable, David King, Keith Baldwin, Michael Kamenish, Jerry Talley, Glenn Smith, Brad Conrad, Brian Corbett, Todd King, Terrell Brown, and myself. Jackie Roundtree also rode the century, but did not sign in on the century sheet, so I don't know if it was unplanned or what.   I email her and find it was a miscommunication between her and another rider.

Paula gives her pre-ride speech.  When she is done,  we dribble out of the parking lot, heading through the busier parts of town to the country where traffic will be much less frequent or heavy.  We pass a park where young people are having football practice and it is nice to see so many families.  I miss those days when my husband was alive and the children were involved in activities that required our attendance.  Glenn Smith and Jon Wineland realize within a mile that they each have forgotten something and turn back.  Glenn had forgotten his backpack and Jon his food that he carries with him.  It is a good thing  Jon remembered as I understand every last bit was consumed prior to the end of the ride.  

The pace is quick and I decide that I need to pace myself better and fall back.  Dee falls back shortly afterward and she, Ann Stainback, and I ride together for a short bit.  Ann is quite strong but states that she lags on hills.  I suggest that she work on using her breath as one does in Pilates.  Hills are hard for most of us, though there are some that seem to be built to climb. I giggle to myself when she, after telling me what an inspiration Bernice was to her when she first started riding,  says I am the new Bernice.  I giggle because I remember Claudia telling me, after we climbed Oregon Road on a brevet, that I was amazing because I was her mother's age and her mother could not climb that hill. I giggle also remembering how when I first started riding, Bernice once said something about people "our" age despite the fact  I was around twenty years younger than she.  I know Ann  means it as a compliment and wonders if she realizes how big of a compliment it is.  Bernice was one spectacular woman, riding until she was ninety or so and still riding two days before her death. There will never be anyone like her.  

Dee and I talk briefly. Dee is one of the heroines of this ride having had knee surgery and having only completed two fifty mile rides yet honoring the commitment she made to co-captain the century with Paula.  I later learn that she also had to contend with a worn out cleat that kept coming undone from time to time.  Some people are just built tough.  Dee is one of them.   In fact, both of Dee and  Paula are Mad Dog heroes as are some others agreeing to captain a stage despite the fact they have no intention of completing the Mad Dog Challenge this year thus giving back.  It strikes me that there are more females on this stage than on any of the others that I attended:  Paula, Dee, Jackie, and me.  It is something that has grieved me over the years, the lack of females in distance riding, but I have come to accept that it is what it is. 

Forgetting my resolve to slow my pace, Glenn and I head out toward Boston. While I keep in mind that this is a difficult course to pace oneself on because of the initial flats, I think I can maintain this pace.  In the end, I decide I may have been better riding in the draft of the group I had been with rather than facing the wind with no pull all those miles, but who knows? I arrive at Boston with an average of over sixteen and later learn the group I had been with was averaging over eighteen. 

When we arrive, there is quite a group there and it is difficult to know who is only doing the short ride and who is going long.  I nudge myself to remember to look at the GPS until the route splits so as not to head in the wrong direction.  I stay at the market on a short time, long enough to consume my home-made energy bar and milk, and head out.  Later I learn that Jerry Talley arrived at the market with a broken cable.  (Jerry is another hero from the ride as he completed the century with the cable tied off for his rear derailleur and only two gears and finishes with one of the faster groups). Jon Wineland helps him with the issue and Bob Grable lends a tool.  When I later told Jerry I thought he might turn around, he tells me he wanted to but did not feel he could after Jon had worked so hard fixing his bike.  I also learn that Jerry has only been riding for three years though he is remarkably strong on the bike. Well, Jerry,  had I not heard what happened, I would never have known you completed the course with only two gears.  Well, done, you.

Those of you who know Jon Wineland know that  he always appreciates a good road treasure find.  He has hauled tools and objects that have been the subject of jokes and admiration.  Today he happens upon a large brick sized piece of metal in the road.   He does not, however, haul it with him to find a use for later, but is courteous enough to move it out of the road so it does not cause an accident or a flat tire.  He estimated the weight at 10 to 15 pounds.  Shortly after I understand he caught up with Dee, Paula, and Terrell and would end up spending the day with them.  Everyone teased Dee about sandbagging her physical condition as I understand that she consistently surged to the front.  

Shortly after Boston, Bob and Larry catch up with me.  I tell them to go ahead, but they insist on staying with me and we ride together until lunch.  We are now on roads I am not very familiar with which is always nice.  But I know that while I am riding okay, I am not feeling great today.  Maybe it is the speed I went out at or maybe the heat or maybe it just is how I feel today. I am not feeling bad, but not my usual self either.  Somehow the topic of age comes up for Larry and I, as usual, are the oldest of our gender on the ride.  Larry jokes that if we were younger, we would have to dance with each other at the prom.  I tell him he is lucky this isn't the case as I am not a good dancer and would likely step on his toes.

We talk about lunch and where to eat and end up pulling into McDonald's only to find a large group gathered there. I suppose many of us opted for fast and cheap. Bob says lunch will be cheaper than his store stops.  I sit at the same table as Harley who talks about his weight loss and think how proud  he should be of himself.  I have always thought weight loss is so much harder than giving up smoking.  You can quit and never have another cigarette again.  You can't stop eating.  He and a few others relate the dietary changes they have made not only because of weight but because of health issues and we take a moment to realize how lucky we are, at our ages, to have the health to be here today. Bob Evancho tells of some friends of his who are now having health problems as we talk about how lucky we are to have the health to be here.  Keith talks, though it may have been at a stop rather than lunch, about a 91 year old who is in excellent health but is having cognitive issues and how health can be a blessing and a curse. 

The group finishes  and leaves together, but I know I will not be staying with them.   It always amazes me how quickly the group decides to leave and gets ready to do so, as if there were a hive mind. During lunch, we had joked a bit about being Upsalled.  Most of the riders needed an explanation as they never met Mike.  Once on a century long ago, the group gathered up quickly and departed while Mike Upsall was in the bathroom.  For some reason,  he thought the group knew he was in there and still left, so being Upsalled became a term for being left behind.  I still remain in touch with Mike who rides the roads of the west coast now and is happy to be ride of hot weather. A loss for the club but a gain for him. 

The group stays together for awhile, but on the first slight climb I drop back. I have ridden enough centuries to have a sense of my pace, particularly with this heat, for the day is getting hotter and the promised clouds have not appeared in sufficient number or strength to offer a cooling shield.  While in Alaska, I lost some of the acclimation to the hot weather, and I find myself draining water bottles more quickly than anticipated.  When we reach the turn for the store stop, I debate just going to the Dollar General that is right there rather than backtracking, but Bob wants to go to the store and so I do.  While there, we pick up Dave King who has dropped back to ride with us.  

Not long afterward, we pick up Jackie and Glenn and finish together as a group.  I am looking forward to finishing.  My right thigh is flirting with cramping and will later cramp on the drive home (thank goodness for cruise control).  I am thirsty and about out of water and my feet are longing for regular shoes.  And we arrive.  

While some have finished and left, a few are waiting there.  Tom is handing out drinks to people with his normal, friendly smile upon his face as if life is an endless source of amusement.  Steve, who seemed very strong today, explains that an unknown infection that his dentist found and treated, had impeded his riding this summer.  Obviously true as he hammered the course today. 

The conversation moves on to Dave King's after ride mu-mu.  And sure enough, once Jackie and he have circled the parking lot a few times, he comes out in his brightly colored mu-mu talking about the breeze he is able to experience in this rather odd article of clothing.  It makes me grin, something Dave often does and for which I have a huge appreciation.   I stay for a short bit, but then head home to shower and collapse on the couch, glad I have ridden but spent.  Surprised and satisfied with my 15.5 average for the day.  Thankful to God for the day and people and the memories I have made.  For our tans will fade and many of these friends I will only see a few more times before the season is over, but I will have the memory of the day, the laughter, the camaraderie of the dogs, the shared toil and sweat and the shared glee of speed and finishing, conquering the course, the heat, and the day.   Shakespeare is right, "Summer doth have too short a lease" despite the heat.  Most of you will never know how I will miss you despite the fact many of  us are not close.  During the cold winter I will long for the sight of your faces and the sound of your voices, for your stories and your laughter.  Come spring, these things will serve as a tonic.  But there are still a few more century rides to go in the tour, including Medora. Well done, Dogs, well done!  

Finishers:

Todd King         2:05        group of 1

Vince Livingston        2:41        group of 1?

Brad Conrad                2:41       group of 1?

Fritz Kopatz                2:41        group of 1?

Larry Preble                3:07        group of 10

Steven Sarson              3:07        group of 10

Harley Wise                3:07         group of 10

Dominic Wasserzug    3:07         group of 10

 Keith Baldwin            3:07        group of 10

David Frey                   3:07        group of 10

 Jerry Talley                3:07        group of 10

Bob Evancho               3:07         group of 10

Mike Kamenish            3:07        group of 10

Tom Askew                    3:07        group of 10

Glenn Smith                3:20           group of 5

Melissa Hall                3:20            group of 5

David King                   3:20         group of 5

Bob Grable                    3:20     group of 5

Jon Wineland                  4:38        group of 4

Dee Scheur                     4:38        group of 4

Terrell Brown                  4:38     group of 4

Paula Pierce                    4:38 group of 4