Yesterday, in Dallas, Texas, I did my 17th bike rally of the year and my 463d overall. This is the 11th year of the Red Hot Chili Pepper Rally. I've done all 11. You might wonder how I could do a 64-mile bike rally in Dallas. Isn't that a city? Yes, but it's a large one, geographically, and we started the rally on its southwestern edge (in Cockrell Hill). The course took the riders past Mountain Creek Lake and over Joe Pool Lake. All of the dangerous intersections were controlled by police officers, so nobody had to stop riding because of a traffic light or stop sign. I love the course. It has a little of everything: flat stretches, rolling hills, steep hills, country lanes, parkways, and frontage roads. Some of my friends have never done this rally. They don't know what they're missing. Perhaps the best part is that it's only 21.9 miles from my house. I listened to Ronnie Montrose's album Mutatis Mutandis (1991) on the way there and back.
Three of my home boys showed up: Phil, Julius, and Marc. I also saw (and spoke to) Don and Donna, a married couple who recently completed RAGBRAI. It was warm and humid at the start, with clear skies. At 7:30, the assembled riders were sent off. After negotiating a few turns, we were on a main road heading west. We flew down a steep hill, turned left at a McDonald's restaurant, and headed into the countryside. Phil and I stayed together the whole way (with the exception of a few miles at the end). Julius and Marc were with us in a pack for several miles, but eventually they dropped us and we never saw them again. My goal for the day was to stay safe and have fun. In other words, I had no intention of hammering.
The course was shaped like a spoon. The handle of the spoon was out and back. At the southernmost end of the course, there was a loop. When Phil and I reached the rest stop at the top of Dead Possum Hill (officially "Texas Plume"), we saw a pack of riders coming in the opposite direction. They were flying. This was the lead pack. The riders had completed the loop that Phil and I were about to begin. Impressive. One of the nice things about this course is that we ride over the dam at Joe Pool Lake, in both directions. It's about five miles long. There's almost always a crosswind, and since the dam is elevated, there is nothing to block the wind. I've done several 10K footraces on the dam. The wind doesn't bother you as much while running as it does while riding, probably because of the difference in speed.
I covered 18.4 miles the first hour, even though Phil and I weren't trying to go fast. We were riding into the southerly wind during this time, but much of it was in a pack, which shielded us. Later, we fought the wind on our own. It was good to talk to Phil again after a couple of weeks. We talked baseball, music, and politics. Phil and his wife, Jean, are going to see Paul McCartney next week at the new stadium of the Dallas Cowboys. It should be quite a show. Imagine seeing a concert in a $1.3 billion facility! About the only band that could get me to a concert is Van Halen, with David Lee Roth on vocals. (I don't much care for Van Halen with Sammy Hagar.)
Once Phil and I reached the southernmost point of the course, we got the wind at our backs. We knew this would happen and saved some energy for it. The riding was pretty much effortless for 25 miles. We got over the hills with no trouble and flew back to the start. I began feeling good at two hours and was feeling as strong as a bull after three hours in the saddle. I love the final stretch of road, so I put the hammer down and left Phil behind. When I reached the end of this road, I had an average speed for the day of 17.0 miles per hour. It would have been nice to keep it, but I knew I wouldn't. I had a quartering headwind and several steep hills to climb. Sure enough, I ended up with 16.88 miles per hour for 64.1 miles. (Elapsed time = 3:47:49.) A year ago, on the same course, I averaged 17.62 miles per hour. I may have ridden a little harder that day, but mostly it was because of better weather conditions. Yesterday, the official high temperature was 98º Fahrenheit. A year ago, it was only 87º. Yesterday, the average wind speed was 12.7 miles per hour. It was less than 10 a year ago.
My maximum heart rate for the ride was 160, which I achieved on the final climb, a mile or so from the finish. (Supposedly, the physiological maximum for my age [52] is 168, calculated by subtracting one's age from 220.) My average was 122. That shows you that I didn't work very hard. A week ago, my average heart rate was 132, which is the highest I've ever recorded. I burned 2,193 calories and reached a speed of 39.7 miles per hour on one of the hills (in my tuck position). After the first hour of riding, in which I pedaled 18.4 miles, my average speed was only 16.33 miles per hour. Phil and I had a great time. Afterward, we drove to a nearby Taco Bell for bean burritos. I can't imagine a better way to spend a Saturday morning than riding my bike with a friend.
Keith Burgess-Jackson, J.D., Ph.D. 