Yesterday, in Springtown, Texas, I did my 24th bike rally of the year and my 470th overall. Springtown is 37.9 miles northwest of my Fort Worth house. I've never been there. For some reason, I thought the rally course would be flat. Boy, was I mistaken! It was as hilly as any rally course I do, including Muenster. Up and down, up and down, up and down. Some of the hills were quite steep. Near the end, when I was tired, I cursed the hills. I would no sooner crest one than I would see another ahead of me. "You've got to be kidding!" I said to myself. At least next year, I'll know what's in store for me.
None of my friends showed up, though I saw a few acquaintances, including DeeAnn. In 1995, nine of us (two from Colorado, two from California, five from Texas) did a weeklong bike tour of Colorado. We called it the Bike Binge, though it was more like a planned ordeal. DeeAnn and I were two of the nine. It's hard to believe that this tour was 14 years ago. I had a great time and have many fond memories. DeeAnn is as tough a rider as anyone I've ever known. We call her, affectionately, "The Turtle," because, while she doesn't go fast, she has tremendous endurance. I wasn't surprised to hear her say that she was doing the 100-mile course. It made me feel wimpy for doing only 60 miles. It was great to see DeeAnn again after nearly a year.
The weather was beautiful. It was 46º Fahrenheit when I woke up at 6:25 and about 50º and sunny when we started riding at 9:00. It warmed up during the ride and topped out at 74º for the day. The only difference between this week and the week before (in Mineral Wells) is that it was windy this week. The average wind speed for the day at Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport was 10.1 miles per hour, with gusts to 24. I rode the course alone (with music), so I had no protection from the wind when it was in my face. As I look over my cycling log, I see that most of my rides this year were on days when there was little wind. I've been lucky. In some years, every ride is in the wind.
Although the hills made the riding difficult, they also provided spectacular scenery. I rode along plateaus, over mesas, through river bottoms, and on winding country roads. I had a few encounters with dogs, but managed to avoid collisions. I've perfected the art of stopping dogs in their tracks by yelling, "Go home!" Dogs don't know what I'm saying, but my tone of voice indicates to them that I mean business. Another way to keep dogs from getting to you is by spraying them with water from your bottle. By the time they realize that it's only water coming at them, you're gone.
Statistically, I averaged 16.80 miles per hour for 60.2 miles. (Elapsed time = 3:34:57.) My maximum speed for the day (I know not where) was 42.1 miles per hour. My heart-rate monitor worked for a few minutes, then conked out, so I have no heart-rate or caloric data to record or convey. My hourly splits were 16.1, 17.4, and 16.9 miles. I averaged 16.82 miles per hour for the final 34:57. I could have ridden 100 miles, but it would have taken an additional two and a half hours and cost me a football game. I hope DeeAnn had a safe and enjoyable ride.
Keith Burgess-Jackson, J.D., Ph.D. 