2013 Tour de Cure is History - So are Chainrings

My Jersey Number

Back from the 2013 American Diabetes Association Spokane Tour de Cure, and it was fun again this year. But, not without hiccups, all of my own doing.

Me! Wearing the 2013 TdC Jersey

Props to Ted Duncan and his volunteers for organizing a good event. Plenty of parking at the Dwight Merkel Sports Complex - part of Spokane Parks and Recreation (pay attention Ms. Knope!), pre-ride snacks, a special tent for Red Riders (those of us with diabetes), and the promise of a post-ride lunch. Didn't get in enough miles this cold and rainy spring to do the 50-mile route, so settled for the 20 (more on that later). The hilly ride, with about 600 feet of climbing, ran mostly along the Spokane River, partly on the Centennial Trail, partly along good paved roads.

On the second climb, I dropped my chain and had to stop. First hiccup. I'd had some signs of wear on my old Campagnolo 9-speed chainrings, and they're just about impossible to replace with original equipment. So, I bought some French TA rings sized for Campy. However, unlike Campy rings, the TAs don't have a forged pin to prevent chain drop; instead, they have a screw-on pin using a torx bolt. One one of my rides, apparently, the pin fell out and was missing when I shifted down to the small chainring on that second climb. While I put the chain back on the ring, I was passed by about five riders. I caught two on later climbs, and had a third in my sights on a flat stretch, in the big chainring, down in the drops, when he just disappeared.

Everyone Got a Public Address Greeting

When I came to a familiar on-ramp, I realized I'd missed a route sign for a turn. I doubled back and - since it was a ride, not a race - took my time riding back to Dwight Merkel. Added about five miles to my ride, but that's OK. I crossed the finish line to applause and cow bells, and the announcement of my name by the public address gal (OK, everyone got the same enthusiastic greeting).







Since my blood sugar was in my zone, I treated myself to lunch (pulled pork and cole slaw on a bun, with Diet Coke, courtesy of American Deli), a session in the portable photo booth (my new Facebook profile shot), and a neck and shoulders massage, courtesy of Inland Massage Institute; I think I proposed to the masseuse.

Don't Try This at Home

Lots of riders, some seasoned veterans, some young and just starting out. This guy was my favorite, and not just because I looked like him at his age. This is the second year this young Red Rider piloted his unicycle along the 2.5 mile loop. Looking forward to the day he rides with us geezers on two wheels.

Flying the Flag

2012 Tour de Cure Finish Line

I'm something of a serial donor. When I had cancer, I donated primarily to cancer research. When I developed kidney disease, I donated primarily to kidney disease research. Those are both in deep remission, but I'm always going to be diabetic. So, since 2010 I've donated primarily to diabetes research and education. This year, I've also started to do volunteer work for the American Diabetes Association, marrying  it with my love of cycling by supporting the ADA's Tour de Cure.

Last year, I rode in the Tour and was fortunate that quite a few friends donated to the ADA in support of my ride. I'm riding again this year but I've also canvassed local bike shops and fitness centers to encourage their support of the Tour. This morning, I staffed the Tour information booth at Spokane's Bike Swap.

Flying the flag, wearing my 2012 Red Rider (cyclist with diabetes) Tour jersey.

Flying the Flag at Spokane Bike Swap

The tour was one of several charity rides, all of which competed for attention with area bike shops, cycling-related small businesses, and folk who were selling old bikes and parts. Quite a few folk of all ages were interested in the Tour, and several took entry forms and brochures they could use to enter via the Internet. The Tour has three routes this year, one of 20 miles, one of 50, and one of 100. By the time my shift was over, all the 50-mile route maps had been taken - as had a couple of dozen TdC water bottles. It was good visiting with fellow cyclists and encouraging them to ride the Tour de Cure.

Beautiful Steel Pinarello

I also managed to find a great cycling jacket for my     stepson's 42nd birthday. There were a slew of nice   bikes, but the real beauty was an 1990s steel Pinarello with a gorgeous pearlescent fade paint job. If only it had been in my size.

The Days of Real Head-tube Badges

Winter Training - Yuck!

After a week of setting fence posts and braces and cleaning up deadfall and slash, I'm going to get back on the bike this week. We're due for some nice weather after an early cold and rainy spring. I've got to get a lot of miles back into my legs before the 2013 Tour de Cure.

Helping to find a cure for diabetes is motivation enough for me, but I'd sure appreciate your support for my ride, the Tour de Cure, and the American Diabetes Association. If you can, please make a donation to the ADA at my Tour de Cure Web page

Thanks for reading, and thanks in advance for your help and friendship.

Extreme Closeup

I mentioned in my last post that we bought and positioned a trail camera to see if we could catch a photo of the bear that left the scat Pepper rolled in last week. On Saturday, we captured 24 pictures - of me setting up the camera. Yesterday, I moved the camera to where Karen said Pepper had rolled, down by a big baking apple tree. This morning, on my way down to the old house to feed Pete, the stray black cat who'd adopted us a couple of years ago, I pulled the SD card and brought it back to download the 89 images the camera had recorded.

Many were of Karen picking apples, but then, there were some night shots. A deer, literally caught in the lights. And, a bear, in extreme closeup. Too close for details, but that's a serious bear silhouette. I think we'll re-position the camera again today, moving it back some. Still, this was a nice 62nd birthday present.

Deer in the flash

Da bear

Today, Karen and I are going to an Ethiopian restaurant for lunch, and then to Trader Joe's in Spokane (there are rumors that one might be coming to Coeur d'Alene, but I don't think there's enough population in the Post Falls/CDA "metroplex." And, I'll continue my long-term music project.







I used to house my many CDs in an antique armoire in our living room. Now, Karen's using the armoire in her study, and I re-installed a CD player and receiver in the furniture for her.

My CDs are homeless. Rather than buy new media storage for the CDs, I decided to transfer them all to MP3. There's a 160 GB iPod on the way from Amazon.com, but I've started ripping them to my computer hard drive for transfer to the iPod. Later this week, I'll see about getting an iPod jack installed in my 1999 VW.

Fourth of July, Liberty Lake

Karen's friends, Cam and Marcia (her college roommate) left in their Airstream trailer yesterday morning after a fun three-day visit. This was the first time I'd gotten to spend any significant time with them, and a long time since Karen had.

For much of the 4th, we spent time straightening up the house and clearing the DVR of episodes of The Colbert Report we weren't going to watch (Nikki Haley) and those we wanted to (Bonnie Raitt), watching new telecasts of Olympics trials and deleting "encore presentations," and cleaning up some pretty good leftovers.

Me, Cheryl, Pat, Theresa, Dave above Liberty Lake

Later in the afternoon, our neighbors Pat and Cheryl came by on their ATV and invited us to go with them and Dave and Theresa up to the state lands overlooking Liberty Lake to watch the city fireworks. We had a great time, riding up rutted logging roads, taking with food and libations, collapsible chairs and barbecue forks, paper plates and plastic forks. Dave also drove up some dry firewood, and before we got there he and Theresa built a small fire pit on a patch of level ground backed by rocks on a tall ridge.



After an hour-and-a-half of good conversation, fire-roasted hot dogs, mustard potato salad, quality beer, and S'mores (meh), the fireworks began, first at the Spokane Fairgrounds, then at Riverfront Park, and finally  over Liberty Lake.

Kerry and me

Karen, Cheryl, Pat, Theresa, Dave roasting hot dogs

 It was a grand vantage point, looking down on the lake and the exploding multicolored shells, as well as the lights of Liberty Lake, Spokane Valley, and Spokane itself. When the show was over, we doused the fire, cleaned up everything we'd packed in, and descended through the dark, retracing our tracks by the light of the full moon and the ATV headlights. Theresa, bless her heart, insisted I borrow an extra Carhartt jacket of Dave's that she'd brought along. Toasty. I've got to get one before I have to plow the half-mile driveway to our new house this winter.

Liberty Lake at night, with Spokane in background

Before we left for the hills, I put our Brittany, Pepper, in the back yard with a bowl of food and a bowl of water. When we got back, Pepper was loose, in front of the house, wet, dirty and smelly. It was too late to bathe him, so we dragged his dog bed into the living room and made him sleep there. He was so exhausted, he did. Shortly after we got home, Pat called to say his big old dog, Harley, was in his swimming pool when he got home. I think the two dogs were in serious cahoots last night.

Fireworks and city lights of Spokane Valley and Spokane

This morning, I let Pepper into the back yard, washed and dried his bed, and then gave him his first bath. Shower, actually, lathering him down with my shampoo (should get some dog shampoo, I guess), hosing him off and drying him off with a big thirsty towel. He loved it. I got wet. Now, smelling lightly of moist dog and shampoo, he's lying in his fresh dog bed as we watch President Obama speak at Maumee, Ohio. The sun is bright and the sky is clear. It's looking like a good day.

Pepper resting after his morning shower

Things We Do for Dogs

I'm fighting my way through the first cold in a year. A nose-dripping, throat-scratching, eye-aching, muscle-fatiguing cold. Third day. Yesterday morning, I took Pepper for a half hour walk. Yesterday evening, I just couldn't get off the sofa, so I put on Peppers harness and Karen took him for a walk up to our home site and back. Tea, chicken soup and Sudafed got me through the night, and after breakfast today I was able to take Pepper for an hour walk up to the top of our property and down. Today, he was in better shape than I was, and I really looked forward to coming back down.

After a nap and lunch, Karen went to Post Falls to visit our mothers in the Guardian Angel Homes assisted living facility. I took Pepper into the back yard to continue his obedience training. It's going to be a long process.

Pepper really can sit. Sometimes.

Last Friday, we had our first session with our obedience trainer, Lori McCallister, who operates SmartDog Training in Spokane. It was really a getting-to-know-you session, the you being Pepper. Based on his responses, Lori's pretty sure Pepper's got some gun dog training; for example, when he goes down, he goes down flat rather than lolling around on his hip. He also responds better to hand signals than voice signals.

Today, I worked with him on "Come," "Sit," and "Down." Pepper's not bad on "Come" (though he'll also come to his name), and he doesn't differentiate well between "Sit" and "Down." To him, right now, both mean down. I'll keep working with him, and I'll have Lori come out again next week.

Geordie, the world's handsomest cat.

After about 15 minutes of training, I threw him a tennis ball within the back yard, and watched him race around with it (while I cleaned up his food residue). Now he's sleeping in the living room while Karen and I watch an old episode of Antiques Roadshow. Both indoor/outdoor cats are in the room with us, Harry tucked in with Karen, Geordie sleeping on a wing-back chair. They're all getting along much better now.

Harry, the cuddle cat.

Still some chicken soup left, but really looking forward to the leg of lamb roasting in the oven. Perhaps a salad, Indian lentils, and terrific COSTCO strawberries.

Surviving the Tour

I was looking forward to and dreading today for about two months.When I'd signed up for the Tour de Cure, Spokane, sponsored by the American Diabetes Association, I'd promised myself that I'd hit the bike hard, racking up the miles and fitness. Didn't happen. The rainy spring and process of building a house prevented me from hitting my 500-mile target. So, I started the tour with fewer than 200 miles in my legs. If I'd been smarter, I'd have looked at the route map and ramped up the mileage no matter what. But, I was smart enough to dial back my intention to ride the 50-mile route in favor of the 25-mile route.

25 miles? No sweat. Normally. But the folk who laid out the Tour de Cure routes built in some brutal climbs that slowed me down to 4 mph and some sweet descents that, at 41 mph, nearly made up for the climbs.

Nearly 200 riders took part in today's Tour de Cure. Those of us with diabetes are known as "Red Riders" and were given special jerseys to wear during the ride. Every time I was passed (which was pretty often), the overtaking rider called out "Go Red Rider," and at the finish, the small crowd of greeters welcomed me with "Good ride, Red Rider"!

A few thoughts:

• The event was really well organized
• The route was well planned and signed
• The route marshals were attentive
• The Red Rider jerseys by Primal Wear fit well and looked good
• The after-ride chow was tasty and thoughtful
• The band at the after-ride party rocked
• Everyone was really nice
• I was inspired by the 7-year-old diabetes patient who started the race in the front row on his unicycle
• I was able to encourage the mother of an 8-year-old daughter with diabetes that cycling will make her stronger (her dad was in the ride, and next year they're going to do the short family ride together).
• I'm looking forward to next year's Tour de Cure
• Thanks to everyone who sponsored my ride, to Dr. Ed Detar who saved my life by removing my pancreas, to the staff at Kootenai Medical Center during my stays, to Krista and the gang at the Kootenai Diabetes and Endocrinology Center in Coeur d'Alene, and to my wonderful wife, Karen, who kept me alive and motivated during my recoveries. Love you. 

Re-learning to Ride

The old saying goes, you never forget how to ride a bike. Not entirely true. With March bringing the most rain for the month in recorded history, and with the earlier winter being nearly as wet, I'd only been out for one ride this calendar year. That's a far cry from the cold, dry, sunny winters I'd been used to in Laramie.

Yesterday was partly sunny for a change (at least when I started my ride), but cold at 37 degrees, and breezy. I was riding with a new training partner to whom I'd been introduced by someone I met at last week's Tour de Cure reception in Spokane. We rode 35-miles round trip from Spokane Bridge on the state line to downtown Coeur d'Alene. In accordance with my diabetes exercise plan, I turned down the basal rate on my insulin pump to 50 percent, and ate about 20 grams of carbohydrates every 30 minutes, supplemented by half-strength Gatorade. My blood glucose level was fine at the end of my ride, and I was surprised how good my legs felt so early in the season. But I was disconcerted by my bike handling - until I remembered it was like that at the beginning of every new season.

Riding a bike is easy. You get on, you pedal. Gyroscopic forces keep you upright. But a big part of efficient, safe cycling is muscle memory, and this winter my muscles again forgot the easy spin of the pedals that keep the bike moving in a straight line; the small, gradual leans that handle the curves smoothly; the tiny counter-pressures that keep you from lurching out of control when turning to talk with a training partner or looking behind. During most of the ride, it seemed as if my muscles had developed Alzheimer's during the winter. I'm going to have to get in more miles and smooth out my riding style, rebuilding my muscle memory before riding the May 20 Tour de Cure, which already has registered nearly 100 riders. The last thing I want to do is bring down half the peloton.

Gathering for a Diabetes Cure

Last night I went to a reception for the Spokane-area American Diabetes Association "Tour de Cure," the aim of which is to raise money for diabetes research and awareness of diabetes awareness, prevention, and management.

As a Type 1 diabetic for the past two years, I decided to ride in this inaugural Spokane tour. The constant rain we've been experiencing this winter and spring (the front yard is currently flooded from the high, fast-running Cable Creek) have kept me from training much, but last night's reception has renewed my motivation.

According to tour organizer Todd Duncan, nearly 100 individuals and 23 teams have registered for the May 20 tour. He's hoping for as many as 500 by the time the tour begins.

About 30 people attended last night's reception. Many were organizers, but there were some riders, one of whom was Dave Holden, a University of Washington student from Spokane who rode domestically for the Team Type 1 professional squad. A Type 1 diabetic for the past two years, Holden spoke about how diabetes didn't hold him back from training and racing as a pro. Holden's a lot younger, leaner, and stronger than I am, but we both gave metered our blood glucose and took the appropriate glucose before dinner.

Dave will be among the more than 100 cyclists riding the tour on May 20. I'm sure he'll be both kicking butt and dispensing encouragement to the rest of us "Red Riders," diabetics who use cycling to stay fit and beat back diabetes.

Some of us will never recover from diabetes - until or unless biotechnologists create the first transplantable pancreas. But others will eventually benefit from the diabetes research funded by the Tour de Cure, and I'm riding for them. I hope you'll join us, wherever you live.

Tour de Cure

This has been a tough winter for cycling. Rain, snow, slush, and yesterday more snow. That's the way it's been here in northern Idaho the past couple of winters. Just a day on the bike now and then - with enough layers and winter gear to still feel my fingers and toes by the end of the ride. My motivation is, to put it mildly, low.

But a couple of weeks ago, while visiting my diabetes counselor, I saw a poster for the Tour de Cure, scheduled for May 20. According to the American Diabetes Association, more than 50,000 riders will be on their bikes to raise money and awareness for research toward a cure for diabetes. Now I had my motivation.

I became a Type 1 diabetic in summer 2010 after two years of trying to figure out what was going wrong with my pancreas. A pancreatic pseudocyst in 2008 that burst while being drained (followed by sepsis); a diagnosis of organized pancreatic necrosis from Virginia Mason Clinic in Seattle, accompanied by three drains and stents; and finally a full Whipple procedure in July 2010 after a series of blackouts from severe anemia and blood loss. Every now and then I run into someone who knows what a Whipple is, and congratulates me on being alive. During 8 hours on the operating table, my surgeon, Ed Detar, removed my spleen, pancreas and 2/3 of my stomach, and rerouted various vital organs. Instant diabetic. Fortunately, my years of cycling had given my heart and lungs the strength to survive the surgery, though Dr. Detar said he nearly lost me four times during the procedure.

I got back to cycling as soon as I could, riding the Centennial Trail east to Coeur d'Alene, Idaho and west toward Spokane, Washington, and hitting the winding, undulating back roads behind Liberty Lake, Washington. Though with a break to have a couple of bile duct stents removed to treat jaundice and early sepsis from bacterial backup into my blood system.

So, I now have a goal - the Tour de Cure. Part of the deal is helping to raise funds in support of the ADA. I've never liked asking people for money, but now I'm invested in diabetes. I posted information about the TdC on my Facebook page and e-mailed some folk in my contact list. To my surprise and delight, more than $850 has been contributed by my friends from New Jersey, Wyoming, Idaho, and Washington. Thanks, guys. As soon as this current snowfall clears, I'll be on the road training for the 2012 Spokane Tour de Cure.