This particular memory is dim as a bully, yet I’ll try to make it out.
One morning in the hallway at high school, I sat leaning against my locker with the periodic table spread on my lap. A mere seven minutes separated me from a chemistry midterm, and I wasted half that time pondering the limits of futility.
By now you’re either ready or not.
With that thought, there was nothing left to do in the way of book learning. So, I made a paper airplane out of the elements, sassed the early bloomer with what I considered a grain of NaCl as he pinched freshmen for Milk Duds money, then promptly found myself on the inside looking out of said locker.
Today, shortly after my penultimate week of training for the , the same thought occurred to me.
No, wiseacre, not the good-thing-lockers-come-with-vents-that-allow-one-to-breathe thought. Rather, the by-now-you’re-either-ready-or-not thought.
I’ve chosen to train over 1,000 miles in the bicycle saddle without an expert opinion, much less a support team. I’ve elected a mountain bike over an exponentially more efficient road bike in an all too transparent effort to inject drama into an obscure blog series. And I’ve intended to ride, camp and fret throughout the weeklong bike tour all by my lonesome.
For comfort, I turn to those before me who have braved the unknown.
One-armed John Wesley Powell managed to explore the Grand Canyon by navigating the tumultuous Colorado River, which I will twice cross by bike on the Day 1 route through Colorado National Monument near Grand Junction. “The Pathfinder” John Fremont explored parts of the American West, including Fremont Pass, which I will reach while crossing the Continental Divide on the Day 7 route from Leadville to Breckenridge.
For his efforts, Powell got a lake named after him. Fremont not only got his own pass, but also his own county in Colorado. I can’t help but wonder: What’s in it for me?
Sir Ernest Shackleton got his title and by coming within 100 miles of the South Pole. Columbus sailed the ocean blue in 1492, and he got his own holiday. And for pedaling my way from Grand Junction to Breckenridge, without any clue of the perils, pitfalls and potholes that await, I got this here blog.
In addition, I hope to acquire a store of memories — dim and otherwise — that I can one day treat with a blogger’s license.
The mind follows the body
Over 16 weeks of training, I have learned a thing or two about preparing for the Ride The Rockies annual bicycle tour:
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HACK’S BACK OUT OF WHACK
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* Cherry Creek Trail follows, as you might suspect, Cherry Creek — not the South Platte River, as I once enlightened friends visiting Denver for the first time.
* Tires and tubes are not the same thing.
* Compact bags for toiletries, such as sunscreen and , are “dopp kits” — not “doc kits.”
* Chamois, which you can find lining the seat of any good pair of cycling shorts, does not rhyme with the last name of renowned scholar and NAACP co-founder WEB DuBois.
* Bar-ends are where you find alternative handlebar positions — not Norm Peterson.
Ready or not, here I come.
DenverPost.com sports producer Bryan Boyle is training for the — his first bike ride of any kind beyond the occasional wee-hour visit to a convenience market. His series runs each Tuesday on DenverPost.com until Saturday, when he will begin filing daily reports along the route from Grand Junction to Breckenridge.
To share any RTR-related experiences, fears, advice or yarns, send an e-mail to Bryan at bboyle@denverpost.com.
