Forty Years Ago This Weekend
I was golfing with Steve last Thursday when I got a text from Keith: "Deborah passed away last night". I was shocked. Deborah is our cousin and was only in her early 60s. I knew her health wasn't good and that she had been admitted to the hospital but I had no idea she was gravely ill. I last spoke with her this past winter when I gave her a call to chat. I had no idea it would be our last conversation. Deborah was one of just a few people who were invited to attend Tammy's and my wedding 22 years ago at our home. She sang a beautiful song she'd written for us. She was a talented musician with perfect pitch and an angelic voice. She was also a very giving and forgiving person who looked for the best in others. My heart especially goes out to her husband Mark and her brother Bern. She will be missed.
Our reunion brought in relatives from across the country and took months of planning. Most of my aunts and uncles would've been in their 40s and 50s in 1981. My mother would've been 53 and my father 55 — a decade younger than I am today. How did the years get away so quickly?
I was a 23-year-old in the summer of 1981 and just beginning to find my way in the world. I had finished my 4-year enlistment in the Navy 19 months earlier and was anxiously looking forward to beginning college classes at Inver Hills Community College in the fall. What I wouldn't give to go back and relive the past 40 years.
Our reunion gave me an opportunity to take an extended trip on my bike — something I'd never done nor have I done since. I spent the months leading up to the ride training for the distance to Michigan's U.P. which would have me riding 110+ miles (177+ km) for 3 consecutive days. A century ride was very doable for me then but riding 3 of them, one after the other was uncharted water for me.
On the first day of the trip, I rode from my parent's home in Farmington, MN to Cameron, WI — a distance of 114 miles (183 km). I remember riding along with another cyclist as I approached Cameron and chatting with him for a few miles. He was riding across the country and I had lots of questions for him. It's always been a dream of mine to do something like that but I'm quite certain it's going to have to wait until my next life. I'd been riding into an easterly wind all day but it wasn't until I sat down at a local restaurant to eat a steak dinner that night that I realized how sore my throat had become from the wind. It was difficult to swallow. I'd never experienced that before.
The 2nd day of the trip was to take me to Rhinelander, WI — a distance of 120 miles (193 km). The easterly wind from the previous day had continued through the night and as an easterly wind often does, it ushered in rainy weather. I had no choice but to venture out into the rain if I was to make it to the reunion on time. I remember following a large Caterpillar earth-moving truck and tucking into its draft for several miles, just out of the fishtail coming from its rear wheels and somewhat sheltered from the rain. The driver wasn't at all pleased with me being back there. He pulled over and admonished me for taking such a risk (as he saw it). No worries. I continued on without his aid.
Fifty-some miles east of Cameron where I'd begun my day, the rim cement on my tubular tires (the tires were glued to the rims and were a terrible choice for this sort of trip) had begun to break down in the heavy rain and the rear tire eventually flatted. I hadn't used enough glue is all I could figure. I'd spend the next several hours on the side of the road in Hawkins, WI thumbing for a ride to Rhinelander, content to just put this day behind me. It was at least 6 hours before a guy in a Volkswagon pulled over to see what was up. He was heading west (the opposite direction of where I needed to go) to Ladysmith and offered to give me a lift there, where as luck would have it, there was a bike shop in town. I broke my bike down and loaded it into his Beatle. He got me to the shop just a few minutes before they closed and I was able to get what I needed to press on the next day.
I phoned home to let my parents know how my day went and that I'd probably look to meet them in Rhinelander the next day as they drove through on their way to the reunion. I didn't think it was possible for me to make it to my destination in one day leaving from Ladysmith — a distance of 196 miles (315 km). This was long before the days of cellphones.
That was a good thing or perhaps it was a God thing.
I stopped to refuel at the Dairy Queen in Rhinelander and it must have been then that my parents drove past me. I continued north out of Rhinelander hoping that I was still ahead of them but after a few hours, it became apparent that there would be no rendezvous. They were long gone up the road. At some point, I realized that I was going to have to ride more miles in one day than I imagined possible for me. I pressed on and hoped my body was up for the task. And it was.
I made it to Twin Lakes (my destination) a little after the sun had set. My mother met me out on the road and drove behind me to light the way the last few miles. That day still ranks as one of the best days of my life. I have such good memories from the entire trip — a trip I'd someday like to repeat.
The photo of me was taken by my aunt Maria at her home in Twin Lakes after I arrived, exhausted and famished but so happy to have done the distance.
Forty years ago this weekend was also the anniversary of Harry Chapin's death in a car crash on Long Island in New York. Such a sad loss. I love his music.
I have a few ride videos below from the past few weeks. The first one was from yesterday and has a Harry Chapin song backing it. I love that song and the story he tells in it.
That's all I've got.
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