Yesterday, in Wichita Falls, Texas, I did my 18th bike rally of the year and my 464th overall. This is the mother of all rallies: the Hotter 'n Hell Hundred. I've been doing this rally for 20 years. My friend Joe has done 25. I know you will laugh when I tell you this, but I'm dead serious. The temperature was in the mid-60s (degrees Fahrenheit) at the start. (We rolled at 6:44.) I shivered for the first hour. My body is not used to anything below 70º! The official high temperature for the day in Wichita Falls was 89.2º. The lowest we've had for this rally (in 20 years) is 84º. The highest is 105º. I guess you could call yesterday's rally the Warmer 'n Heck Hundred.
I rose at 3:30 at my house in Fort Worth to make the long (121.6-mile) drive to Wichita Falls. I arrived shortly after six and met my friends in the dark at the designated spot. Joe had picked up my packet the night before, so he handed me my ride number, which I quickly pinned to my jersey. Joe said that some 13,000 people had signed up to ride. We threaded our way through the crowd and got onto the course ahead of the racers. This isn't cheating, because we're not racers. Nor are we alone. Quite a few people left early. It makes for safer riding during the first hour—until the waves of racers and rally riders reach us.
During the rally, we came upon several accidents. In every case, there were emergency vehicles already on the scene, with police officers and race volunteers channeling riders through small gaps. I saw several riders lying in the middle of the pavement, unconscious. Some had neck braces on and some had been placed on stretchers for transport to hospitals. It was a sobering experience, seeing these crash victims. You might wonder why I or anyone else would risk such injury. What can I say? It's fun. You can't get the fun without the risk. Why do you drive your car? You know you could be killed on the way to the grocery store, but you still do it. I hope the injured riders recover from their injuries and get back on the bike soon.
I stayed with my friend Joe and his 14-year-old son Jason the entire way (101.9 miles). Bryce dropped us in the first few miles and we never saw him again. He was doing the 100-kilometer course. Mike, who was also doing the 100k course, rode with us for about 20 miles. Randy rode with us to Burkburnett, where he veered off for Wichita Falls. I've done that shortened course five times. It comes to 74 miles. The other 15 times, I rode 100 miles. We also rode with Harold for a while, a man we met earlier this year in Italy. He was doing his first century. Unfortunately, we got separated in the pack and never saw him again. I hope Harold accomplished his goal and stayed safe. We found Don at the rest stop in Burkburnett. For a 63-year-old man, he can hammer! His wife Donna was to meet him at the rest stop and complete the century with him. (The couple that rides together stays together.) We also saw Julius and Troy at the rest stop. Marc was at the rally, but I never saw him. My friend Phil trained for this rally, but had to pull out with tendinitis (in his knee) at the last minute. We missed you, Phil! Get well soon and do the century with us next year. It wasn't the same without your whining, although Randy did his noble best to pick up the slack.
My little camera (Nikon Coolpix S220) worked splendidly. I carried it in my middle jersey pocket. I snapped pictures at rest stops and even snapped some while riding, dangerous though that was. I'll post images in days to come, perhaps explaining each scene as I do so. If you can believe it, I never tired. Even at 80 miles, I felt strong as a bull. We fell in with a big pack near the town of Charlie. Many of the riders wore the same jersey (Texas Irish). I'm no parasite, so, after enjoying the bus ride for a while, I rolled to the front to do some work. The two men at the front didn't seem to want me there. This made me mad, so I rode away from them. There was another pack a couple of hundred yards ahead, so I bridged across at over 25 miles per hour. My heart rate soared to 166, which is close to my physiological maximum of 168 (the formula is 220 minus one's age). Once I reached this pack, I went immediately to the front, where three people were doing the work. I waited momentarily for the lead rider to catch up to me, then increased the pace, hoping that the four of us could get away. The rider couldn't stay on my wheel. That meant I was alone, with two huge packs behind me. Needless to say, one person can't hold off dozens, for the dozens are taking turns. The original pack with all the Texas Irish eventually absorbed me. Hey, it happens even to the best of riders, as you know if you watched this year's Tour de France.
We stopped four times for water, fruit, and rest. I always have a triumphant feeling when I roll into downtown Wichita Falls, with spectators cheering. Someone handed me a finisher's pin. I took a couple of pictures, shook hands with Joe and Jason, and rolled to my car for the long drive home. I was away from home for almost 12 hours, during which time I drove 245 miles and rode 102.9 (counting warm-up and cool-down riding). When you think of all the things that could have gone wrong on a day such as this, that nothing went wrong is miraculous. I had a great time.
Statistically, I averaged 18.76 miles per hour for 101.9 miles. (Elapsed time = 5:25:50.) That makes it my fourth-fastest rally of 2009. A year ago, on the same course, I averaged 19.56 miles per hour. The difference is that I hammered into Burkburnett a year ago. This year, I stayed in the pack with Joe and Jason. I mentioned that my maximum heart rate was 166. My average for the day was 119, which is well below my record of 132. My maximum speed on the flat course (the profile is misleading) was 31.4 miles per hour. I burned 3,011 calories (but probably ingested 1,500 along the way, in the form of cookies, PowerBars, PowerBar Gels, sport drinks, bananas, and spicy peanuts). I stopped in Decatur on the way home for Taco Bell bean burritos, which hit the spot. I bought five tacos for Shelbie.
If you own a bike and want a challenge, do next year's Hotter 'n Hell Hundred. People come from all over the country (and probably many other countries) for this event. I spoke with riders from California and Tennessee yesterday and saw a thousand or more different jerseys. You should not be deterred by the numbers. There may have been 13,000 riders in town, but I didn't have to wait for anything. The rally is beautifully organized.
Addendum: Here is a story about yesterday's rally, from a Wichita Falls newspaper. I read it after I wrote this post.
Keith Burgess-Jackson, J.D., Ph.D. 