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Pardon me, Conductor, does this train stop in Drop City?

by Chris Geiser

It was as beautiful a Festivus morn, as I can remember since Seinfeld brought everyone outside of the Costanza household the notion of Festivus back in the innocent days of 1998. Sunny, crisp, I was running late, an still only on my first cup of coffee. Let’s just set that as the theme. Being in a rush. Off the back from the very beginning. Not to be a spoiler, but to be a spoiler, and let you know how it ends. If you follow me on Strava, you already know that I didn’t hang on. But it was Festivus, and not even a trip to Drop City could run the perfect holiday!

Ready for A Train action

Finally arriving at Strictly with 10 minutes to spare, I made the mistake of ordering a cup of coffee. I didn’t even have time for it to cool down before the safety talk had begun, and I had a Facebook Live feed going of Frank’s safety speech. Before I realized how close to the edge that I was, Frank announced that the A group was ready to go:

Where are you heading Thomas?

Up 9W, State Line, Oak Tree, Rail Trail, Kings Highway, Clausland, Rockland Lake…

…and that’s all I got. It would have to do. They were pulling out. I shut down the camera, and threw out the coffee (this was a prize winning cup of coffee by the way — and it physically hurt me to throw it out), and jumped on the SK. I was on the chase already. WIth the group reeled in, by the first mini-hill, and with an unrelenting pace, I was in zone 3 by Pallisades Avenue. 2 kilometers in.

Warm up: Check.

First lifeline — Pallisades Avenue. This is not going well.

Out on to 9W I did my best to stay along. The pros were out today. I could hear the voices from the GFNY podcast echoing that the most experienced riders, don’t feel the need to go off the front and prove themselves. They just tempo out with the ride leader, calm, cool, like they have done this before. This was how it was working today. It was an organized and orderly paceline up 9W. I was yo-yo-ing already. Maybe it was my Saturday ride, maybe it was jet-lag, maybe it’s just that I am not that guy yet. I kept pressing but I could definitely feel it slipping away. After East Clinton, Thomas rode back. He had been turning to check that the group was complete all the way up, but he seemed concerned about me hanging on.

I don’t think I have it today Thomas — please go ahead — I have burned too many matches just holding on.

He advised me on the wind, the right positioning. This would have of course worked to bring along any cyclist who was capable of holding that speed that day. I was not that guy.
Too many matches. I said it again.

You are doing well, you have 100 matches! You can do it!

Great. That will be 2 matches per mile. I will need every one of them. I kept pressing but as the road ticked up slightly toward Kiku, I couldn’t hold the back. Stopped at a light at Pallisades, I could see, but I could not contact the group. As I hit Kiku, they disappeared over the edge, on their way to State Line. They were up and over out of my site. As I got to the bottom of State Line I thought I saw them but I could not be sure. The clock on solo miles was now running. I decided to take the B group route. As I turned left on Oak Tree I realized it was way to cold to wait for the B group. We had left a few minutes ahead, and it would likely be 10–15 minutes of freezing to wait for them, so I pressed on.

Identity — I am an A rider, I ride the A route. I may not hold the group, but I went out on the A route and will return on the A route.

Process — keep pedaling — keep going at the pace that you would hope that you could hold .

Outcome — we shall see.

Over State Line to Bradely. I was chasing back on.

As I hammered through the Rail Trail, I wondered if I was course cutting or if the group had stuck to the plan. Only one way to find out. I emerged from the trail and saw a bike turning on Kings Highway. Not with the group. As I overtook him he held my wheel and made a point of letting me know my chain needed to be oiled. Thanks for that. I took him to the foot of Bradley, and began to climb as he veered off to continue straight. I was winning. Whether I stayed with the group or not, this was the ass-kicking I wanted, the ass-kicking I needed. I started to find a rhythm on Bradley as I made the turn to keep going toward Tweed. As I passed Schuyler my legs hurt from the effort the day before. Glad I wasn’t going that way today. Hmmm…maybe don’t get too happy.

As I rolled up Bradley, halfway up — there they were coming down. A Festivus Miracle that I was able to catch them post climb. Do I keep going, or do I turn and go with them? To think it through, I remembered that I signed up for the group ride, not the ride alone with your principles ride. I turned, and chased on. Lifeline number 2 (although this was a climb cut). As we meandered toward Rockland Lake, and through Nyack, I thanked everyone for regrouping.

Dude you were suffering before the climb….

This was not untrue. I was. And I was continuing to pay the fiddler in trying to hang on. After making it over Toga and down to Rockland Lake with the group, Ari pointed out that I may have had a second wind. We shall see, Ari, we shall see.

Out Lake Road, and over to 303. A beautiful chase over the reservoir — and it was a chase — to Ridge Road. Lifeline number three as Thomas waited to recollect the group at the left turn after the reservoir. We made our way back into Old Tappan and I had to chase several times to keep up.

It was going to be a tough close to the day. But as Peter pointed out — it was an unbelievably beautiful day to be out on a bike. He was absolutely right.

The day itself was a Festivus miracle.

That didn’t mean my own bag of miracles would not run out. As we found our way back to Oak Tree, and climbed the steep kicker from Piermont Road, I struggled to maintain contact. As the group got to 9W a wave of relief came over me. I knew the route home. I would be dropped on the climb. But I knew my way home. But somehow, someway — they crossed 9W and kept going. I was stopped by the light. It was time to solo home.

The road back to Strictly

Too many lifelines. Too many chases. But somehow I was proud of the ride. I couldn’t figure out where and how they had gone. They were not there when I got back. Within 10 minutes or so they had arrived. I could barely move. I missed a few miles and had some catching up to do, and as this is Friday night, it’s almost time to try again on Sunday. Hoping for a New Year’s miracle!

The gang back at Strictly

by Chris Geiser

And so the A-Train beckoned in the first GFNY Group Ride of the GFNY training season. The Fall is mostly behind us, and Winter is upon us. If you had read the last bit about how you only get better when you do things like test yourself on the A-Train, you are probably wondering — did you do it? Did it happen?

 

The usual pre group ride hijinx, brought to you by your friendly neighborhood Gruppo Sportivo members, Erin one of our new riders, and your humble narrator.

December 2, 2018

It happened. Sort of. Ish. It’s complicated. Well, maybe not complicated, but it was wet. With the best of intentions, of putting in my 46 miles, 3 hours, and 2,402 feet required in the commitment I made to myself for the week, I set out to meet the gang at Strictly. I won’t sugar coat it, it was wet. But as my friend Doug told me over the summer, when I offered that we just get on the trainer to avoid the rain “what are you going to do at GFNY Deutschland? You gonna tell them that you don’t ride in the rain, and that if they could pull a trainer up for you, under a tent, you would be happy to complete a workout that merits a finisher medal?”. Maybe Doug wasn’t as verbose as all that. Probably he wasn’t. He wasn’t. But that was his point. And I could hear his point echoing in the hollow chamber underneath my helmet, as we prepared to get on the road.

With Frank Lee leading the A group from Gruppo Sportivo today, I sallied forth and reported for duty. “It will be a tight two-rider pace line once we pass state line. If we are up for it, we can continue to Clausland Mountain Road and do some climbing, and then make our way back. Let’s see how it goes.”

Waiver signed, safety talk attended, and plan in mind, we rolled up Hudson Terrace. Frank was kind enough to lead out, and so we had a nice group of Killer B’s all the way through to State Line. Along the way we splintered into two smaller groups, but I hung with the front until we hit the top of State Line. Along the way, my automated hydration station of the guy in front of me’s fenders spraying water in Ari, and my faces, we didn’t need to drink. Thinking we should bottle that moving forward and sell it as “Pure 9W” — the kids from those hoity-toity bike clubs in the city will pay top dollar for it! As I continued to hydrate, I decided to ease back a little so that I could check my brakes, and so I fell off the back of the group, ever so slightly.

The thing about carbon clinchers (especially the ones that you may be fooled into thinking are tubulars for 48 hours), is that they are a really fast and comfy ride, and wet conditions do not slow them down.

But — here’s the thing. If you want to stop them in the pouring rain — you’ll want to plan ahead.

Having rejoined the group, and phobias about stopping aside, I pulled into State Line with the front group, hoping that we would decide to call off descending, on account of something completely reasonable like “I have a flight later today, let’s just get back, so I can clean my bike before I go….yeah that’s it”… and so we agreed. Since everyone’s clothing items were all 10–20 pounds heavier, we would opt for a savage burn back toward Fort Lee, instead of a continued slog to Piermont and points North.

The two lead groups at the top of State Line. My wipers and defogger were out of commission.

The thing about being the guy who takes the photo, is that while everyone is pulling out, you are putting your phone back in its water-proof hermit cave. That’s a whole 30–60 seconds, depending on how wet your gloves are, how much you try to rush getting your gloves off, and how important it is to you that you have your shit together before you follow.

And so the chase was on! But stop! Let’s set some Metrics for how we will measure tales from the A Train each week:

Distance stayed with the group (prior to being dropped): The number of miles/kilometers I stayed with the group before being dropped and finishing on my own.

Distance ridden solo: How long was the “ride of shame” back to the barn after being dropped. Also expressed as the “A Train Completion Quotient (for instance a 70 mile ride that I was dropped in mile 50, would have an ATCQ of 71%)

Number of Lifelines Used: The number of times I would have been dropped but re-established contact with the group, as they regrouped at the top of a climb, or were stopped/slowed by some traffic condition.

Number of Chases: The number of times that I had to chase down the group, in motion, to maintain contact. This is what we would refer to as a lagging indicator — in more ways than one! This is a reflection of how many times I fell behind and had to spend energy chasing back on. The higher the number of chases, the lower the ATCQ — I guarantee it.

Editor’s note: I am a little bit of a data nut, but more than that, this gives the oddsmakers the KPI’s they need to make reading MacGeiser’s articles more interesting. If you know what I mean. Not that I encourage that kind of behavior.

And so, with the group off and running, it was time to chase back on. But what I didn’t realize was that I was now chasing over the 3 remaining horseman of the fabled Four Horsemen of 9W (with the first being State Line). Our Second Horseman is a real beast, and for my money the worst of the four. Your elation from climbing State Line, which I did not have, combined with the little downhill that leads into it, which I was chasing on, mislead you to thinking it is just a gentle undulation. But I knew the secret, of how to get past this, and started to dip into my toolbox to start catching back on. And it was on.

By Kiku, and the end of the Horsemen, we had just the downhill, full gas, stretches of 9W back to Fort Lee, and so the speed was starting to pour on. I had reconnected with the group, and Ari and I were now working together to maintain. Until of course, Ari took his usual turn and E. Clinton. Wallace and Eddy started to move out ahead, and so it was real work to catch back on to Frank and maintain the pace. With a little pressing I was able to hang in, but as I looked at my Garmin, I realized that my heart rate was bouncing all over the place. Or was it. I slowed to watch it realizing, that, I felt fine. I had slowed just enough to realize that not only was I not watching my heart rate, (was watching my wattage), but that I had lost contact again, and was now chasing again.

With a lifeline at Hillside, I was able to make it back with the group. Success, I guess, except I am not sure we are counting that as an official A Group ride — but in the end it sure felt like one. Scorecard:

December 2, 2018 A Train Scorecard

Distance Stayed with the Group: 21 Miles

Distance Ridden Solo: 0 Miles

Number of Chases: 3

Lifelines Used: 1

ATCQ: 100%

This was a relatively small test, but it was able to shine a light on where I was. The next week would be harder. And through the miracle of the wayback machine — here we are!

December 9, 2018

The rain gone, the road clear, and the sun out — this was a day to ride! It was cold, but not unbearable. With the right layers/preparation, it was downright pleasant. We had a bigger A Train today with some return players from the previous week, in Wallace, Eddy, Ari, and we would go farther and do a little more climbing. Thomas Han was back on board, and he and Frank would alternate as pilot and co-pilot of the group to take us out at a steady pace. It would be 9W, State Line, Oak Tree, Rail Trail, Convent, and climb.

Preparing for the cold! Photo Credit: Frank Lee

There would be no stops, with the exception of the regroup, and we would go back via Nyack, Piermont, and finally 9W past the market and up State Line. We kept a brisk but moderate pace through the State Line descent, and got caught at the light on Oak Tree. There would be two red lights, this one and the one at Piermont Road that split the group, but we regrouped each time, and headed through the rail trail.

Hanging in, but yo-yo’ing ever so slightly, through the convent area, we made the turn toward Greenbush and I was preparing myself for the steep start up Clausland. As we approached the right turn, I geared down to get ready and began to spin a too high cadence in a too easy gear. As we slowed for the stop sign, we got waved straight through by Thomas, and my first chase was on.
Bugger! We were heading for Bradley/Tweed and so I was geared down and needed to chase to the foot of the climb. Heading up Bradley the group strung out. As I kept pace with Ari, I saw Eddy disappearing. “Eddy is either one hell of a climber, or he doesn’t know about Tweed yet”. As it turns out it was a little of both. But now Ari was away, and I was bringing up the rear. By Tweed I should have been officially dropped. Staring an almost exactly 50% ATCQ right in the face. But as I got over the top of Tweed, they were waiting. A regroup at the top had provided me my first lifeline, and the climb would be my first chase.

As we descended into Nyack, past the college we were all congnizant of the 14% grade and the icy runoff that was coating the road. Carefully down, and then up the slight drag to the college, I was off the back again, and chasing. Saved at the red light near 287. Chase 2. Lifeline 2. I was dreading the humiliation of being dropped on State Line and doing the ride of shame across the Four Horsemen. We TT’d through Piermont, through the slalom, up Valentine and back on to 9W. Suddenly, I was not off the back but keeping better pace.

Certainly not with the climbers, but I was holding my own with the group, and up I went. I had decided that 70RPM was my magic number for today. As State Line started to ramp, I had it over 70 and it started to slow. My right hand began clicking. Up and to the left. Up and to the left. Up and to the left, up and to the left. Until I was finally out of gears, but luckily almost out of State Line. Then using the same method on the Second Horseman I was able to maintain my cadence all the way through without giving up every gear and staying relatively mid cassette. My legs howled a bit. But it was short-lived, and I was soon back to giving what I had on three and four, I was over, and heading for the Kiku mile marker. Today would not be a Four Horsemen PR day, but it was enough. I was mid-pack as the front riders were waiting at Kiku, and so I rolled on, knowing it would be an every rider for themselves TT back to Strictly.

Wallace and Eddy were gone. You know the thing with hanging in a group, is that your focus needs to be lazer sharp. Snooz even a little, and you start to lose the wheel. Lose the wheel you lose a few feet at a time. You need to know pickup and make moves, to chase, to yo-yo. Focus is a thing. The group’s apparent lack of sympathy for your lack of focus, is actually only your lack of focus. They don’t have any sympathy because they don’t realize you’re not focused. Mostly because they are focused on the wheel in front of them, and worrying about whether you are focused on them falls to the way side.

I was yo-yo’ing again, and was officially off the back again, when Lifeline 3 kicked in. I caught the group at East Clinton, and hung in the rest of the way. As we pulled away from the light at Hillside, Thomas thought I was bucking to lead. He pushed me out in front, and gave me my 45 seconds of glory on the front of the pack. We passed the C Group on their return, but somehow I hardly noticed as I was trying to keep pace with Frank and Thomas. They were moderately pacing back trying to bring the group back together.

#theseguys — Don Vito with Thomas on the return leg! PHOTO CREDIT: FRANK LEE

Pulling into Strictly with Thomas and Frank sealed the deal. Even though it was later officially termed a “moderate pace” I hung in with the A Train for one more week.

December 2, 2018 A Train Scorecard

Distance Stayed with the Group: 39.73Miles

Distance Ridden Solo: 0 Miles

Number of Chases: 3

Lifelines Used: 3

ATCQ: 100%

The A Train (Left), and the GFNY Post Ride Hijinx (PHOTO CREDITS: FRANK LEE)

by Chris Geiser

TIPS AND TRICKS FOR TRAVEL, AND TACKLING STRADE BIANCHE

The hilled cities of Toscana — we are expecting a lot of ups and downs through the course, and an authentic Italian experience both off and on the bike.

Needless to say my last trip to Toscana was a little different than what I am expecting this coming March. While I was a cycling hobbyist, once, twice a month, and a century or two per year, my pea-brain had not yet managed to connect my growing appreciation for cycling, with my journey to the Italian countryside.

Just months before, as I had been sidelined with a double-achilles injury (it’s always injuries with me isn’t it), I spent my time on the couch watching the Cervelo Test Team bring Carlos Sastre to the podium in the 100 year celebration of the Giro d’Italia. It’s notable, not for what those guys achieved, not because it was the Giro in its 100th year, but because here I was in Italy, without making the connection for a single moment. Lost on me. Oh the humanity!

It was a wonderful trip, in spite of my mental gaffe in not connecting the dots. But it was limited. Limited by where we could go in a car. Where we could find parking. What monumental (not that kind), thing were we seeing today. What “must see” thing was happening, what were we doing to make sure that we saw the right postcard locations, found a place to eat, rushed through a meal, and got out to see the next thing before it closed or got dark. Limited by a perception of what an authentic Italian experience would, should, or could be.

We just don’t roll like that anymore. It’s not that I would turn down an opportunity to revisit Galleria degli Uffizi again, or see any of the wonderful things that we saw, but further travel, and combining that further travel with cycling have “woke” (did I say it right, kids?) me to what an authentic experience is. To meet the people, enjoy local food, to stop for an amazing coffee in the middle of a race, and ride the roads that professionals, amateurs, novices, farmers, and local citizens ride. To see a place as the locals see it. To ride the roads, instead of watching them from the couch.

Man — what a self-infatuated smarty pants! What do I know anyway — but don’t take my word for it! Let’s ask a Pro!

If you don’t trust my opinion, would you trust the opinion of the overall winner of the 2018 Ovo Energy Women’s Tour? Does the number 72 mean anything to you — as in 72 U.S. National titles? The winner of the 2017 Trofeo Alfredo Binda-Comune di Cittiglio? The winner of the 2017 Women’s Tour of Flanders? The current women’s USA National Road Racing champion? You would right?

Well, you’re in luck, because I was in luck, and had the unbelievable opportunity to speak with the champion Coryn Rivera about her experiences in Italy, at the Strade Bianche, and about her overall feelings about Toscana.

72 National Titles — Coryn Rivera lends us her expertise on race preparation, racing in Italy, and her love of travel.

Coryn Rivera is an accomplished professional cyclist that has been racing since her first kids race growing up in California. After growing into being able to ride the tandem with her father in century rides (her father was once a downhill mountain bike racer — for your cool Dad file), she entered a kids race and won. With a year between events, after the second one, she yearned to feel the joy of competing more than once per year, and so her career began. Learning to race, and trying just about everything on two wheels — cross, road, MTB, everything but BMX, if it was competitive cycling, she was up for it, and was able to turn it into what is a stellar career in progress. With more to do, Coryn enjoys seeing new places, and being able to race in those places. With a gratitude for what she is able to do, she approaches each race with recon, technical planning, and knowing where and when to use her energy. It was a pleasure to learn about how Coryn’s experiences relate to those of a traveling cyclist, that loves to see and experience new places, compete, and enjoy the process. Coryn is currently ranked the number 5 woman cyclist in the World, by the UCI.

So much of what we publish here — is about combining cycling with travel. Seeing new places, meeting new people, riding/racing, understanding new cultures. How has this changed your cycling perspective? Is it something that drives you and your goals?

Absolutely, it’s cool to have this great opportunity, and I am thankful to be able to do what I do. Most of the time it’s busy and, all business, but when I get the chance to take things in, I grab it with both hands. The world is a cool place, and I love to see new things. When there are some races that I haven’t done, I like to get to those. For instance, I have never been to Australia or New Zealand, that could be a cool race — the Tour Down Under. I would love to do that. I did the tour of Norway this year, and that was cool. I know there are some races in Luxembourg that I have never done, but I am lucky to have experienced most of Europe, that I have been to and raced in.

Hitting the climbs in full stride!

You have spent some time in Italy, and in Toscana, and had success there. How do you feel about the area, and cycling in the area? What stands out for you?

I really love it, that’s probably one of the first places I visited as a junior, we stayed in a house in Lucca. We rode to Pisa, Monte Serra — the riding there is really beautiful, and it’s funny how the cars and the bikes know each other. It’s a kind of organized chaos, how the cars and bikes get along. I am a huge fan of the local food and wine there. The gelato, the coffee, the food, and some of my favorite wine is from Toscana. And I know I am not the only one, there are a few other pros that live there, and I am lucky to have experienced it.

The strade bianche — or white roads — of Tuscany, these sectors, will be featured on GFNY Italia.

The GFNY Italia, in 2019 will cover some of the same types of “white roads” as ridden in the Monument Strade Bianche. Needless to say, there is a lot of excitement around it. You have been doing Monuments as they have come available to the Women’s Peloton. With your huge win in Flanders, how do you develop a strategy for the types of challenges you see in Europe?

Growing up I raced all the disciplines except bmx. I raced, road, cyclocross, track, and MTB. Looking back it plays a huge role in how I read a race and the road in front of me. I have been mountain biking this off season, and some track as well. All of them make me a better rider and are tools that I use to make myself better. To prepare for Monuments, it’s really specific, you really have to study the course. Cycling isn’t mainstream for Americans, but in Europe, it’s like American football, and they know all the roads. Recon is the most important thing you can do for big races and classics.

How are they different from what you have seen here in the USA, and in Canada? Will you continue to focus on the Monuments?

Absolutely — those races really suit me. I have an eye for detail, whether it be cobbles or gravel, and I kind of thrive on those kind of challenges, and the team and i know how to position ourselves for those types of challenges. Those are definitely the things that I really like .

Preparation and recon are key, according to Coryn, “I am really aware of the details”

With particular attention to Strade Bianche, how do you prepare for the “white roads”? From a technical perspective, how is your preparation different than say, cobbles (as in Flanders), or high climbs, like you would see in the USA Pro Challenge on more “standard roads”? Does your cross background play a role in how you prepare, mentally, physically, technically?

Again, recon is definitely important. Knowing which sections are which, and being mentally prepared to be in the front of the group at the right times. Some you come into straight and they are short and flat. Then you get to hard left turns and climbs, and you have to invest some energy to get to the front, if you get there in the back, there is less opportunity to get around and out in front. If you are further back it has an accordion effect. So invest some energy to be in the right position. It’s hard to prepare for racing the gravel because it constantly changes. After 100 people, cobbles are the same, with gravel, there are usually one or two good lines, and you can only see those lines from the front. So if you are 100 people back maybe those lines are gone. If you put in that energy in you can stay relaxed and have less stress.

So many cyclists are tech/gear nerds (myself included), are you a gear nerd? Tell us about how you like to setup?

I am a little, I am pretty in tune with my machine. I check everything before I start a race, I know what tire pressure, I can tell when something is different, like a longer stem. I am really aware of those details. I run a 36 all year, and like the lighter gears for options, like an 11/30 and 11/32 for some of the steeper races. I definitely love my sprint shifters. I use those more than the shifters itself, because i can reach those from the tops and from the drops. Those are my key tech nerdy things.

Technically speaking for strade bianche — what is your setup like?

It’s funny, riding on strade bianche is different, with cobbles you can go lower pressure, but with gravel you can’t do that because you want it to bite a little bit. I keep the pressure in between what you would run for cobbles and the regular road. Less bumps more loose pavement, and not too much washboard. Not too low tire pressure. For me the weather was a big deal. And gearing wise, some of those climbs on the pro race course are crazy steep, and there is no turning back if you don’t have the right gears. 36 inner chainring and a 32 on the cassette. I like to spin, so I use that ratio a lot in the Classics. For me, having a bit extra helps me save my legs for later. I run a 36 all year. With Sunweb electronic, when I was with United Healthcare it was mechanical. I have never had a problem with electronic. Once I had the rear mech lock up on a weird shift, but it was a one-time thing.

The pro race has a much higher ratio of strade bianche to paved road than the GFNY Italia course, so my plan will be to run at normal tire pressure between 105 PSI and 115 PSI. As Coryn says, we are looking for that “bite” into the strade bianche, while also looking to make sure we have little rolling resistance on the paved roads that make up the majority of the course.

Continental Granx Prix 4 Season — while not a GFNY sponsor — it is in my personal opinion the best all around tire out there.

What will be key here for GFNY riders, I think, is having the right tires. If you have been listening to the GFNY podcasts, you have heard about the success on any surface using Continental Grand Prix 4 Season. This is the tire that I have chosen for quite some time, and have ridden in every race except for one. I have had only two flat tires in all the GFNY races and other races that I have done, and one of those two was the time I raced without the Contientals. Lesson learned. My De Rosa SK Pininfarina will be setup with the Continental Grand Prix 4 Season, at a 25 width. That is the standard tire I use for all occasions. However, I will likely leave my Campagnolo Bora Ultra 50 wheels at home in favor of something lower profile, without a carbon braking surface (likely Campagnolo Scirocco). As we continue to train, and think about the race ahead, I will provide more details right here about how folks are setting up and what everyone’s expectations are.

The white roads (strade bianche) and rolling hills of Tuscany — if you are not excited about this — please check your pulse.

Hey — this is pretty exciting. To get a pro scouting report, to hear a little more about the joy of Toscana from a pro. With March fast approaching, and the #GFNYFallSeason behind us for 2018, it’s time to start planning for the camp and race in Toscana. Houses are being rented, and rooms already filled. Airline tickets, van rentals, are complete. While we train we plan, and we have the advice of a pro on our side as we get ready. To say that this trip to Toscana will be different than 2009 would be an understatement. Prepare for authentic Italy, authentic Toscana, authentic white roads, Vino Nobile, and the call of Montepulciano.

Stay tuned for the next Sector! Ciao!

With gratitude to Ms. Coryn Rivera, for her generosity, time, and great insights. To Lidia and Uli Fluhme for their vision, as well as their insight and guidance in preparing Sector 1, and to Mirko DP for answering my ridiculous questions at all hours of the evening!

by Chris Geiser

So you get home from the West Coast, and you are still up. And why not?! It’s not even 10PM your time and you are raring to go. There is a nice post-plane dinner in the fridge (thanks Chaz!), and the Hulu Seinfeld loop is going. You start backing through this weeks email and you find this one:

“The Group Rides Are On!”

Oh right! It’s December on Saturday and so it is now on. #GFNY2019TrainingSeason #BeReady2019. Be ready meaning two things

1. Be ready for GFNY Italia in March
2. Be ready for GFNY NYC Championship in May

And now for the sudden recall. Before everything went black in April, you vowed on your last group ride that “next week I am out with the damn A’s! If I get dropped, I get dropped! That’s how you learn to get faster!”So you reach out on the airplane wifi, to a friendly voice on the other end that knows of such things as riding A Trains, and yay, even driving A Trains, and you repeat those magic words!

The friendly voice of the A Train!

And the good advice is returned almost immediately. Positivity, encouragement, tactical intuition. “Hey buddy, this is how you do it! Welcome aboard”

And so on Sunday we will know — how long can I hold the A Train! Tune in Sunday night to find out how it went!

by Chris Geiser

So now it’s after the race, and as I said — more after the race. So where to start, where to start. Let’s start with Thursday. It was a Wednesday flight back from Boise, a fairly full work day, pack the bikes, pick up #Toto, fast pizza, Christine’s play at Stevens, wash the clothes, re-pack the sled and then the 3AM wake up call to catch the 6AM flight to Atlanta. I would say it was a full 24 hours. Making the 7AM group ride on Saturday morning would be a challenge.

#Totos bike is ready to go, both bikes make a sweet perch for Midnight as he contemplates what it means to “Be a Pro for a Day!”

The alarm went off, and the both the drip coffee maker and espresso pot were in motion. I had summoned #Toto to the rock, where he stayed with us for a fast out to Newark in the wee hours of the morning. It would be Newark to Atlanta, Atlanta to Cozumel. The 6AM flight from Newark to Atlanta, was by design to make sure there was enough time at Hartsfield, for the bikes and our baggage to make it from one side of that gigundo airport to the other. If you haven’t traveled through Atlanta, Chicago, Minneapolis, Dallas, or Houston, know before you go — that you want to make sure that you allow enough connection time for both you and the baggage handlers to make it to your next flight. Especially if there is only one flight to your final destination per day. If your bag or bike miss a connection, it will likely be on the next flight, but that may mean the next day.

I dropped #Toto and our stuff, and moved on to the short-term lot to leave the whale behind with the cold. Within about 7 minutes, #Toto and I were approaching the Delta counter as educated travelers that knew what was next.

We knew and understood what Delta would want in exchange for transporting our bikes and we were ready for it. That didn’t mean we wouldn’t try to sweet talk our way out of it, but what the hell, can’t blame us for trying.

Nice try #Toto “I think I read on the Delta website that if I am a kind-hearted Canadian, that my bike goes free? I bet you can’t see that bit from our computer there eh?”

And we are off!

We can save a bit of time with the understanding that the flight from Newark to Atlanta was uneventful. We landed at Hartsfield, found a breakfast burrito, and some *ahem* coffee *ahem* and got on to the gate. Via the airline app we followed our bags from the plane to actually watching them being loaded onto the plane for Cozumel. In the boarding area we were lucky enough to meet 4 or 5 other GFNY races, and talk about their expecations for Sunday, tell them about the GFNY race in NYC, and have a few laughs. And we were off again, and this time on our way to Mexico for real. #Toto has been going to Mexico annualy for the last 30 years, so, as we traveled, he regailed me with tales of great food, and friendly people, where and how to find the Oxxo in every neighborhood. He was teeming with excitement to get back to one of his favorite places, and I was excited to be seeing someplace I had never been. We were both excited to know we would be meeting Tom on the other side when he arrived later that afternoon.

A pleasant surprise as I scanned my boarding pass. Starting off on the right foot. Our bikes being loaded for Cozumel, and the shoreline as we landed. A Led Zeppelin style arival on a rockstar plane, as #Toto disembarks. It was here that we realized, we were both a little overdressed for the sun and sand!

The airport was all GFNY! Cyclists from all over coming into this beautiful island to be part of the #GFNYFallSeason. #Toto and Jouqin our guide and van concierge. #PoolGFNY our backyard for the next three days!

We quickly settled into our Villa, right on the race course I might add, and got busy setting up rooms, and figuring out where the Oxxo was. For anyone that saw our silly Facebook “Live from the Oxxo” you know that it’s the staple convenience store on the Island. They were everywhere, and there was one close by. #Toto had promised me that Mexica Fritos were better than American Fritos, and I was determined to make him prove it. So we set off to get provisions prior to Tom’s arrival. Tom had a slightly more complicated set of logistics coming from the desert of California, but about 2 hours after our arrival, there he was, and we were celebrating as if we were back at Villa Lina in Terracina, or back at Gavia in Englewood Cliffs, or out on 9W, or whereever it was that the three of us had spent so much time, cycling, chatting, enjoying all the good fortune that cycling had brought us in our lives. We got our collective act together and made our way through town to find a great food joint, a local place just outside of the more touristy areas, we tried the local specials, and really started to get a feel for how special Cozumel was. It was time to walk it off through the main town square and down to the water. This was part of the miracle of Cozumel — everything was close to us, we walked pretty much everywhere that we didn’t bike. And all throughout spotted other racers soaking in the atmosphere.

It didn’t take long for us to meet other racers, that were in from all over Mexico, parts of the states, you name it. They were there in the center of town posing with the giant GFNY letters, and basking in the glory of the race atmosphere, with the knowledge that the work would soon be upon them, and us. To reach the finish line, would not be trivial, and it was the only thing that would make the trip complete.

A fantastic local meal. We stopped for a nightcap. When I asked for an orange soda, the bartender replied, “yes, I will get you one, I am sorry, are you sick?”

With dinner and the evening’s entertainment in the bag, we rallied back to the Villa and got our bikes assembled. The boys could see the wear and tear of the late nights, early mornings, and multiple flights that week catching up with me.

Group ride at 7AM tomorrow. Starts at the Interncontinental. Guess we need to leave a 6ish?

Dude — you aren’t making that group ride — there’s no way! You’re a mess!

This circular argument went on for a bit as I was nodding off in the middle of pleading my case. Finally it was up to bed. Little known — or in some circles widely known — fact about your humble narrator, is that I am terrified of living things that are smaller than me. With the exception of rodents, which I don’t seem to have a problem with, anything else sends me into a psychological tailspin. I had asked #Toto if he would be kind enough to do a Secret Service type sweep of my room to make sure there were no scorpions. I kid you not — I am absolutely, positively that unhinged. #Toto reassured me — he was correct of course — that this was not my weekend to encounter a scorpion. I am not sure seeing one would have stopped me from sleeping anyway.

It’s ALIVE!

The cry echoed from the bottome of the stairs as I descended them at the crack of 9:30. Most of the roosters in the neighborhood had moved on from crowing to their lunch, and the group ride — over. Missed it! In review with several people at the expo, it was great ride with huge turnout, but I have failed you in that I can tell you absolutely bugger all about it as I wasn’t there. And so we chowed a little on the local groceries, got ready, and got out for a ride. We found our way past the expo, and went in short search for #thehardestworkingmaninshowbiz — Maciej! He was out on the route, so we wouldn’t see him until the next day at the finish. The hash tag says it all. We headed out on the route, and worked on developing our rhythm through the first part of the course, and out to where the turn for the King of the Headwinds sector of the race was, where we found a place called Rasta’s. It looked like a great place to have a coke, and maybe lunch. And so food was on. Shrimp tacos, a coke, some fritas and we were back on the road. Feeling the heat, and knowing what it would feel like during the race. We headed back toward the expo and packet pickup.

Lunch at Rasta’s. Erik our host let us know that his whole family would be racing tomorrow. He was at the turn on Sunday cheering — like everyone else in Cozumel it seemed.

After touring the expo, packet pickup and a brief meet and greet with Shaun, we were back to the Villa. Ari Dee was going to meet us for a pre-race dinner. Pacho’s backyard. From what we could tell, the Cracker Barrel of Mexico on the outside, we entered through a gift-shop, and were lead into a grand room with an indoor/outdoor grotto. Iguana’s making their way through the palms just outside, we were seated and ready to eat. With contemplation of the race, there were mulitple cries for “aroz” (rice) — the carb in the mythical carb loading. And if it didn’t work so what — it tasted good and we were on vacation. But the meal was unbelievable. Time for the walk back, last prep, write the Lessons of the Fall, and then off to bed. We had a race in the morning.

Me, Tom, Ari, #Toto — the pre-race training table. Notice the bring your own GFNY bottle policy in effect to stay hydrated. Some of us still had scars and burnmarks from the California desert just two weeks before.

Race Day!

We were ready for our last race of 2018. The GFNY 3x. Finishing tomorrow would be the capper on an unbelievable fall. Finishing well would be almost too much to ask. We had discussed over and over the strategy of the negative split. The atmosphere in the starting corrals was electric. Drones overhead photographing the racers, bike envy left and right, people from all over the world gathered to race. We were numbered in the 1300’s so it would take a few minutes for us to roll. With the long route being in with the medio route, it became evident quickly that we could use the size of the field to create our speed without redlining our efforts. We were determined to be disciplined. 5–7 minute pulls. No one pull-hogging, lest we have to drag the hog to the finish line with his tail between his legs, hearing the oft uttered “aww crap, I went out way too hard”. There would be none of that today. We would need every ounce in the noon-day sun to finish strong.

And so we rode. And we stuck to the plan. We used the force of the field to help us through, while watching elites roll past us on the left, we navigated from group to group, minding our own pulls and staying a tight band of three making our own way when we had to. We had a strategy, and we were staying disciplined. In the wind we were careful to make sure that the random movement of the field didn’t disrupt our echelon. Tom and #Toto figured out a perfect formation, but as the wind started to shift, we had to shift back into a straight pace line. We rolled right through all the aid stations without stopping and headed straight back to the mid point of the course. We continued to use every group we could to ensure that we were working at the right level. As we hit the start line/mid point we were all out of water, and so after the line we would hit the first aid station, as there would be no water or aid until after the KOW.

Our stop was fast and efficient. Choking down a little bit of food, and hitting the WC as quickly as possible, we were on our way. Discipline. It was a thing today. I heard #Toto on my wheel — three minutes Chris, and I will pull on — I acknowledged with a thumbs up on my right hand and we made the big right turn onto the road that would take us back to the KOW. There was no car traffic here, and the traffic throughout the race, was under strict control. It hits me now, that I didn’t think about a car, pretty much the whole day while we were racing. We were just racing. With the medio folks now left behind at the finish line, the spaces had opened up, and we were now completely under our own power. Discipline. Shifts. Surf the draft.

At the time that I drifted back, and looked to take the third spot in our line. There was a group of “blind dates”, 6 long, now benefiting from the Gavia power that was moving us at a nice clip. They wouldn’t let me back in, and so I drifted to the back of the line, with the intention that — if they work, they can stay, if they don’t we are going to have to get rid of them. They were too big a group to have freeloading, especially with the wind coming up. As I drifted back, I looked at the last in line and said with a circling motion of my finger “trabajo junta”. This was my Google translate version of “everybody works”. He nodded as if to say I got it! The group was now having issues keeping consistent pace behind Tom and #Toto. There was a lot of coasing, and a lot of quick pedaling to get back on. With the road clear, I rode up the left side, and tried to cut back in. They weren’t having it. Meanwhile, #Toto was complete on his pull, and as the big diesel engine that is Tom, started to turn on the front, #Toto started to slip off the back. I dropped back and #Toto and I reconnected with the group.

It was time to put a stop to this. BASTA! I rode up to Tom and gave him the news on how things were shaking out behind him. He slowed, and we pulled off to regroup.

Let’s get our group back together and finish with these guys.

I made the motion with my finger again.

Trabajo junta! Trabajo junta! Everybody works, LET’S GO! You work, or you’re gone!

The ringleader of the group looked at me and laughed.

So, you’re the boss eh? I can’t chase? I can’t chase.

I think he meant he couldn’t pull. Either way, he was telling us that he wasn’t going to be doing any work, and that we should do what we wanted.

Ciao, ciao, ragazzi — we will see you later.

We slowed, and dropped back, and regrouped with #Toto. We were under our own power again and pulling back along the right of the group we just dropped. They were starting to struggle, and we motored by them quickly. They naturally, saw the new opportunity and jumped back on. As #Toto went forward for his pull, I went with him on the opposite side.

I got it Mac, it’s ok!

I was just holding Tom’s spot so that these guys wouldn’t shut us out again. #Toto understood, and quickly set in to pulling us up, toward the KOW sector, shortly before I took over, and we kept motoring through the wind. We were now headlong into the late morning headwind, and we had dropped our new friends for good.

The tactics were frenetic in trying to keep things together through the KOW. With fits and starts, we got the group to the next aid station intact. We broke for water and tried to get back out quickly. Now moving quickly not only meant the pace of the race, but also meant not boiling in the heat. The longer we stood still, the hotter it got. By the time we left the aid station, I was 80% through the bottle I had just refilled. We had 40KM to go.

It was now down to Tom and I doing a hard push to the finish line. We took shifts of two to three minutes each, and kept passing racers as we made a determined push to get to the line. We were worried about #Toto, but somehow knew he had waived us on. He was not far behind as we found out, and did a solid race! Through the streets of Cozumel, with kids and families on every corner, cowbells, noisemakers, jumping up and down waving yelling. It was unbelievable.

As my heart rate went to the limit, the last 30KM would now be a test of how hard could I push. How much would I allow myself to suffer. When would I fade. HEY STOP THAT — YOU WILL ONLY FADE IF YOU THINK YOU WILL FADE — SO KNOCK IT OFF!

We kept hammering. With 10KM to go, Tom put hand on my back, as if to tell me, how well I was doing, how great it was to be out here together. Without a word, I understood. Wee were careful not to overcook the turns as we wound though the city, past the Villa, around past the airport and the bigger hotels, and back toward the finish line. With the 5KM markers in site, I heard from Tom that he was getting some cramping. This was the last race of 2018. I took off. I pushed as hard as I could, as hard as I had left into the final five kilometers. I kept thinking that this was the kind of suffering that defines the race. It defines your character in the race. It’s what you will think about when you decide if you have let yourself down, or if you have left it all out there. I went into the final turn like a man posessed. Determined to cross the finish with the same vitality as I had in the first lap. I stood up as I made the final left, and drove my power through the roof as I did a sprint for the finish, as if Sagan or Cavendish was right beside me with their elbows out, I pushed hard and screamed as I crossed the people-lined finishing area and stopped my computer. 4:59 moving. I had beaten five hours moving. I didn’t think this was possible.

As I crossed, I drifted and spun my legs, and then looped back to try to find the finish area. It was obvious when you were soft pedaling, but I couldn’t see it as I was going however fast I was going as I finished. There was Tom. He was right behind me. We went and got our finisher medals and a coke, parked our bikes and waited for #Toto. He was not long after and the gang was all together. There were more cokes, tacos, and a trip to Oxxo before we went #PoolGFNY before dinner.

If you read the Lessons of the Fall, you know that we have been building up to this. The #GFNYFallSeason, #PoolGFNY, #SurfGFNY, #ridingintoform, the three timer, the double — double — it’s been an amazing progression of training, racing, and always having a reason to keep going. Keep training, keep building, and being in love with the process. Looking forward to 2019, I go into the “base miles season” with more strength and confidence than I have ever had. Like a snowball effect, building into the next race, the next travel adventure, the next medal, the next finish, and in between, the training that makes all of it worth while. The process and planning that provides for a finish line smile. The difference in a finish, and a great finish!

And speaking of great finishes. I was guaranteed and end-to-end, show. #Spettacolo from touch-down to take off. With the 3x medals and all of the finish line ceremonies, we were unable to connect with the right people at the finish area for our 3x medals, and the #PoolGFNY was waiting. When we saw Shaun at Senor Frog’s for the recovery party that night — he told us — you are not leaving this Island without those medals — text me when you are on the way to the airport.

The Airport 3x medal ceremony! The finishing touch on an awesome weekend of racing and race festivities!

The unbelievable, unsinkable, confident steps of a person that set out to do something, paid the price along the way, and had two cups of coffee and a three timer medal to show for it.

With our sights now turned on GFNY Italia and Toscana in 2019, those basemiles will be more meaningful, the goal will no longer be focused on a finishing time. No longer focused on the result itself. The goal will be putting in the preparation required to be pleased with the result no matter where and how it is. To continue to to be in love with the process.

With Gratitude! Grazie a tutti — 2018! #GFNYFallSeason #PoolGFNY #SurfGFNY #GFNYDoubleDouble #GFNYEuropeanDouble #LetsKeepRacing #GFNY2019Season #BeReady #BeAProForADay

Next Up: The Second Italian Job Begins — Special interviews, strade bianche and more!

The 2018 Cast — Gratitude

Alicia, Christine, and Ginny Geiser, (as well as Marvin, Midsy, and Moonie)

Mom, Dad, Trish, Fran, Paul, Joe, Tom, Tat, et al

Vito Valentini

Tim and Rebecca

Uli, Lidia, Mirko, Shaun, Ana, Kenny, and Maciej the hardest working man in show biz

Tom, Nancy, #Toto, Aleksandra, Adrienne, Mike C., Jack Foster, Frank, Nairo, Paul, Benny, David Henick, Michael Lyach, Michael B, Ari, Clarence

The Broleurs, Andy, Steve #ParisRoubaix

Noel, Luis from Puerto Rico #PiriPiri

Lisa, Bob, Bill

The Lewis’ at Fusion

Mechanic Matthieu in Malaucene

David H. in Melbourne

Cicli De Rosa

If I have forgotten anyone, I am very sorry, but rather than accepting my apology, please accept my gratitude!

Breaking the mold

By Emma Bishop

From a small mountainside town in Ecuador to Connecticut, entrepreneur and single mom of three Paola Ortega is all about setting the bar high and then soaring above it.

Paola Ortega, 40, has been a resident in the USA for 18 years. Cycling was never part of life in the USA, it came to her two years ago in the form of therapy when her marriage ended and she started the transition from married life to life as a single mom with three girls.

“I always used to cycle back home in Ecuador, back then it was my only transport. Rekindling my love for cycling after my divorce helped me overcome the hard times that I was going through.”

Those hard times include discovering she had breast cancer following a fall while out cycling. Ortega shrugs off the discovery as just, one of those things.

“How we overcome problems, is how we succeed. That (breast cancer) was not going to stop me. I tell my girls, you live by example – it’s in your hands.”  

Through her cycling group, Cycling Connection CT she learnt of GFNY NYC and decided to sign up in order to prove that she can ultimately do anything if she puts her mind to it. She also had the full support from her three girls. Sunday will be Ortega’s first century ride.

“It’s my first and I’m really excited and also very nervous. I’m sure I will be in pain but enjoying it at the same time!”

Training for a Century ride is no small thing. It takes planning, preparation and dedication. If you are a single mom it also takes heaps of organization and the ability to prioritize that only a single mom would know how. When Ortega is not making ice cream at Tropiglace, a family business from Ecuador she brought to the USA, she may be ferrying her girls, Emilly 19, Natalie 14 and Isabella 10 years old around. 

“I take literally any opportunity to ride, in cycling classes, on the trainer and on the road. Actually my bike and cycling kit are in the car with me all the time, just in case,” she laughs.

Ortega likens riding to complete freedom. She has also discovered and recommends it as a great stress reliever.

“When I am going downhill I usually scream. My friends know that this is not a cry for help but just my stress reliever. It’s also a plus to be able to lose a pound and makes it all a perfect combination!”

Understanding there are limits but never afraid to push them, Ortega believes people get distracted in life and this prevents us from dedicating time to things that really matter. 

In a world where men dominate the sport of cycling, Ortega is all about encouraging more women on bikes and has inspired her girls with her determination and training.

“Emilly and Natalie are so excited. Yesterday was their first time riding with me, it was awesome to do that and I look forward to more rides as a family in the future.

Completing the Journey

By Emma Bishop

Three years ago, Scott Johnson received a call that every parent lives in fear of.

A road cyclist for the past three years, Johnson of Columbus, Ohio was going about his day when he received a phone call from his daughter. Her words, “Did you see the email?” was all Johnson needed to know something was very wrong.

“Our son, Ben was living in Bogota, Colombia at the time with his wife Alejandra,” recalls Johnson. “That morning Alejandra had sent a family addressed email.”

‘Ben had an accident on his bike. They have taken him to the hospital. We hope he wakes up.’

As an experienced internist/hospitalist, Johnson had extensive experience with trauma patients. 

“I found her simple words terrifying.” He confides.

Johnson immediately booked a flight down to Bogota not knowing what he would find. 

“On arriving at the hospital I learnt that Ben went out of sight on a descent during a routine training ride to the mountains and was discovered lying unresponsive on the roadside.

He had suffered a brain injury called diffuse axonal injury. A common result of helmeted high velocity trauma and occurs when there is a twisting of the brain inside the skull at impact.”

Arriving at the hospital 15 hours after Ben had been found, Johnson drew hope that during that time, his son had begun to “wake up” and had started withdrawing from stimuli, murmuring words and following simple commands.  

“I knew that this kind of rapid progression was the most reliable sign of a good prognosis, and I suppose, typical of any parent, I had high hopes.” Johnson says.

Less than a week later, as soon as he could move and swallow, Johnson and Alejandro took Ben home. 

“All the rehab was done at home. I am amazed by Alejandro’s strength during his rehab. There was never any question of what they had or may lose. Her focus was all about here is Ben and he is going to get better.” 

Due to relocate from Bogota to NYC last year in May, following the accident in April relocation was postponed to August when Ben was strong enough to make the move.

“It was six months before Ben became Ben again. Day by day and week by week he returned to the Ben we all knew.” 

Twelve months after the accident Ben secured a new job at Staten Island City College, where he has been working for the past semester. Knowing the outcome could have been so much different makes it hard to recall those months of not knowing what the future may hold for his son. 

“To see him where he is now is so gratifying,” Johnson proudly says.

As for getting back on the bike that was definitely not something anyone was expecting him to do anytime soon.

“He just went and did it, and only then told me about it,” recalls Johnson. 

Dad feels he has to ‘a certain degree’, let go of the competitiveness and perhaps as a testament to his renewed passion, Ben posed the idea to ride GFNY NYC together, as in really together.

“He will be my domestique! I am looking at Sunday as a celebration of his life and mine. He has ridden the course a couple of times recently and tells me it is beautiful, so whatever the weather Gods throw at us we are looking forward to completing this journey together.”

by Chris Geiser

It was back in June when I had first started to use and abuse the phrase “Double-Double” in reference to doubling our GFNY adventures in Europe in September, that I realized that I would not be a GFNY 3x finisher. Oh wait — Cozumel, I was initially dismissive. “I will never get away with it”, I thought. A double-double adventure in Europe, followed by a Veteran’s Day long weekend in tropical Mexico to celebrate GFNY with a final race for 2018. But here we are. In that article in June, I closed with the “I reserve the right to change my mind about Cozumel, btw”.

We are on for GFNY Cozumel, which has led me to unveil a few new and fun hashtags. #screwbasemiles #letskeepracing #GFNYFallSeason — are the battle cries that will take us into Thanksgiving. As everyone is starting to trade the bike for the weight room, and for Zwift, and saying things like “we are just trying to get base miles going before the season starts, I am getting to Great Kills beach as often as possible to ride in headwinds that I hope simulate the legendary headwinds of the GFNY Cozumel race. Screw base miles — let’s race! #GFNYFallSeason — my accident in April made 2018 all about the Fall. Or rather, the fall made it all about the Fall. I am digging being “a fall racing dude”. Almost like that surfer you see on the beach in January.

Tom and I in Portugal, Toto and I in Italy in 2017. We’re getting the band back together in Cozumel! Ari Dee will be there, and we are waiting on a few others to confirm.

But enough about me….(I know right, insufferable, it’s brutal, I can’t even stand listening to me talk about me anymore). Let’s talk about someone of substance.

Meet Shaun Gad

I recently had the opportunity to spend some time on the phone with Shaun Gad. Shaun is not only the organizer of GFNY Cozumel, now in its fifth year, but also one of the organizers of GFNY Jerusalem, running its second edition this coming May! In setting up the interview I sent some questions ahead of time, and offered “feel free to fill in by email if you prefer” — I figured he was as slammed as a 120mm stem at this point in the season with the race coming up. He shot back immediately, “let’s get on the phone, I think you will really find my answers to these questions very interesting.” Spoiler alert! I did!

Shaun Gad from the unauthorized theft of his Facebook profile picture. Not surprisingly, it was the only photo I could find of him alone. And that’s what GFNY is all about!

The Cycling Life

Tell us about your cycling life? How did you end up here?

“I grew up in NYC and used to travel to Mt. Snow for mountain biking events, these were NORBA (National Off Road Bicycle Association) sanctioned races. I have always been on the bike. Whether BMX or free style. If it had wheels on it I was passionate about it since I was born. I love it and it’s close to my heart. I have never let go of that sense of Freedom that the bicycle gives you.

I grew up in Queens and then moved to Long Island, and started doing group rides along the LIE and a few small races, crits in Harlem, nothing fancy. I had an opportunity after I was finished with school, to go to Mexico, and had the opportunity to work in our family business here, and I ended up choosing Cozumel. This was 20 years ago. I wasn’t so big into cycling for five or six years, but once I was back into it, I was traveling and getting into being a big fan of cycling again. The Tour, the Giro, the USA Pro Challenge.

I then started a team here in Mexico. Old riders, new riders…

I was working for a big company with a lot of resources, and used that to help to build cycling here in Mexico. Helping organizers, organizing races myself. Mexico was just starting to build a cycling scene. You would get to a race and there would be the fancy bikes, and the cool gear, and then the local racers, that just had a bike, and no fancy gear. And when the race started, the local guys on the basic bikes were the ones that had the legs. Never ever underestimate anyone, especially here.

Please tell us about how you got involved with GFNY? There is always a great story here, what is yours?

Cozumel first started with my partner Miguel Gonzales and I helped the government facilitate IronMan events and it was doing very well on the Island, but there were no pure cycling events. The secretary of tourism, had asked the question, “do you think we can bring any other events here?” I knew there was GFNY, and several others, I emailed them all, and Uli and Lidia responded within three seconds. I was the first one to ask if they would like to bring the franchise out of the U.S. The Mexico and Italy races happened around the same time.

We met in person, went over my background, how we can build the event, the logistics we would need for the event, and it didn’t take long for us to all agree. The funny thing was that after all that I went to the same school as Lidia. Miguel and I wanted to bring it in for fun. We didn’t see ourselves as an event company. We thought, “we’ve been putting local races together, like helping make the IronMan happen on the Island but lets focus on cycling”. I have a degree in marketing, so I did everything I knew how to combine that with what I knew about cycling and promote the heck out of the race. We had 1100 riders the first year, and we thought “wow -this is the right recipe”.

Looking at how people are marketing and promoting events, and the bike stores, the ones that have the right lingo, and the ones that are just doing what they can to market their company, we realized that we needed to do things a little differently.

It was more, for us, saying the right thing the right way to connect with the riders. It’s one cyclist talking to another, and sharing a passion. My goal is to not only get people into it, but how to evolve as a rider once you get started. How to get to the top of the climb, and how to survive the heat of the race. You have the hunger to get better, how much further can I take my body next week and the week after. People like the challenge and seeing what they can put their body through.

For example when you are here in Cozumel, when you get to the other side of the Island, it’s windy, one of the things in the race tips — stay to the right and stay in the drops — BUT — only when you see the bushes. When you are near the bushes, it’s usually a cross wind, those bushes will block the crosswind. Get into an echelon when there are no bushes. When there are bushes, get in a pace-line get in your drops, and move through.

Our teammate Hector “Nairo” Viscano above left with Luis Lemus, signing in, and starting the race at GFNY Cozumel.

Some people beg me not to give that away. A lot of riders figure this out by the second lap. And they may see other people doing that as well. This can take you from a 36 km per hour to a 44. The winner last year did 42 km per hour for the entire race. You’re going to get some fast speeds here. The first 20 minutes are uncomfortable. Scale of 1–10 it will be an 8 or a 9. Then you will get into your pace and you will carry that to the KOW and then you will be uncomfortable again. Then you will find your rhythm again. Some people get excited going through downtown and waste a lot of energy. You need to be smart about how you spend your power.

Editor’s note — uncomfortable sounds about right for keeping up with a fast group off the front. At GFNY Deutschland, my heart rate was 170 beats per minute in the neutral start. In Portugal, Tom and I decided to negative split the course, and our plan worked pretty well. But the course in Cozumel is a different kind of challenging. Fast racers, strong winds, and flat out, balls out, get the lead out, till you zonk out, full gas until you are under the kite. Trying to hold the wheels of the fast groups will be a challenge, but will make for a better overall effort. My fastest forty kilometers ever, at GFNY Italia in 2017, came as a result of one of these types of courses.

And on the Other Side of the World….

Once complete with the race in November, Shaun will likely turn his attention back to the GFNY Jerusalem, coming up on May 3, 2019. The first GFNY Jerusalem was held this past Spring, right before the Giro came to town. When the news broke here in NYC about the Jerusalem race, the Giro, and just the entire scope of the evolution of cycling in Jerusalem, the excitement about all of it started to swell. Several of our Gavia Cycling teammates were signed up and ready to go. GFNY was touching down in the Middle East -how did this come about?

As I understand, you are the organizer for both Cozumel and Jerusalem. What are the challenges that come with organizing two races, in these very diverse parts of the world?

Having the right team. Everything is about your team. Teamwork. If there are things I am not capable of doing, then I rely on my teammates. They are all my friends. The pillar is that one of my teammates ilan Zaviv, is over there, in Jerusalem.

When the Israeli government contacted us, they wanted to get us there before the Giro. ilan lives in Jerusalem, and has tour companies, understands logistics, and said “let me put together a team over here”. He collaborated with the largest event company in Jerusalem, (organizers of the Tel Aviv marathon for instance), and in putting that team together, told the government — we are ready, let’s talk. We went over everything, and spoke to the Mayor of Jerusalem. He had the route planned for us. We had never seen that before. I wanted to get on the bike with him!

For me, that we were going past where my father is buried, I felt like my father was bringing me to Jerusalem. It was a big deal. We shook hands, and did the paperwork. Jerusalem is completely different than any other GFNY. The route, the logistics, the people, it is completely different. I was super impressed with all the support we received for the race.

   

The Jerusalem jersey and medal, start line, and Gavia teammates, Mark, Karen, and Benny.

I have heard 5+ Stars from everyone that has raced in Cozumel. Please tell us your secret for putting on such a great race? 

I always want to make the races better, and more entertaining. Here in Cozumel, it’s like a Broadway production. We are entertaining you from the minute you get off the plane, and leaving you hungry for more when you get on the plane for home.

The truth is, it takes time to put these things together and do it the right way. I would never want to limit my ability to put together a great event. But I love to ride, and if I don’t ride three times a week I go cuckoo. So you have to have a balance, and in mixing the two.

I don’t look at myself as a pioneer. It’s a big passion, and it has been for a very long time. We were fortunate enough to build a fashionable race, with a quality brand, and that’s what I am trying to represent what people see as what cycling is. There are so many more ways to explain it than “I went out to ride my bike”. Social media has brought so many people that share that pleasure of cycling, and turned it into something more pleasurable in building these types of events. There were Gran Fondo’s before us obviously, but there is something to be said for how GFNY operates vs other events. Like I said before, it’s the recipe. To build a community of like minded riders, or those that aspire to be part of this type of challenge and race against others. You can do whatever you want with GFNY, race against the clock, yourself, the podium, others in your age group, the wind here in Cozumel. There are so many things that make us interesting. We are a pioneer in that category because no one has done that before. Cycling is a sport for everyone! That’s the foundation of cycling! Bringing community together and not separating it.

Next Stop Borrego, then Cozumel

Before we are off Cozumel in November, Tom and I have some business with a 6 hour ITT in Borrego Springs, California. It should be an excellent preparation for the fast course, and windy conditions, and allow us to test our mettle without riding in a pack. The fall season has been something to behold. To have the motivation to keep training hard, keep riding, and keep bringing it every day, has put a Spring in my step that has almost made me forget that it was Fall. #GFNYFallSeason #ScrewBaseMiles #LetsKeepRacing

With sincere gratitude to Shaun Gad for spending the time with me. We are so looking forward to racing at GFNY Cozumel. This will be my 3x medal achievement for 2018, and my 9th GFNY overall. Stay tuned to find out where number 10 will happen!

by Chris Geiser

Gonzo journalism in the heart of Europe! Cutting straight to the heart of the cycling dream! Fear and loathing on the TGV! Eight legged freaks in double occupancy! Smashing the would-be PRs of Horatio Alger on the Giant of Provence!

All respect to Hunter S. Thompson, a master, and an inspiration, in bringing humor, drama, and extremism to every story he pursued. He coined the phrase “Gonzo Journalism”, trying to cut straight to the heart of every issue he investigated, every journey he took, every assignment he had. While we had forgone the cigarette holders, fast convertibles, and mass quantities of drugs and alcohol, we made sure to find plenty of excitement through travel, exploration, making new friends, and of course, cycling.

We have talked about the races, but, to be fair to the journey, getting there was half the fun. Over twelve days we met cyclists from all over the world, ate schitzel, bretzel, bratwurst, duck, tapenade, piri-piri chicken, and butata frita. We drank gallons of Pellegrino, Perrier, and whatever sparkling water we could get. Usually ordered in 5 bottle quantities before we opened the menu.
We used every available means of transportation with the exceptions of horse-drawn carriage, hot air balloon, and boat. We traveled to the heart of Europe, down to the Mediterranean, and back to the Western most point on the Continent. We faced climbs, headwinds, cross-winds, twisting and turning descents, and the occasional straight, flat road, with a tail wind (snoozers). To be honest, after GFNY Italia in 2017, I secretly worried that we could never put another experience of a lifetime trip together. I should not have worried.

Time Between Races

With our GFNY Deutschland experience in the books, we got things in order, straight away when we got back to the hotel from the finish line. Aleksandra had family visiting her in Hameln, and watching her wave the flag of Poland as she crossed the finish line. For Jack and myself, it was a short order of bike packing, showers, and dinner, so that we would be ready to hit it bright and early in the morning. Or, maybe just early, as it wasn’t very bright out yet. We had the following itinerary for the day tomorrow

05:00 — wake up and get bags and bikes into the truck

05:30 — get to Aleksandra’s hotel, and get her stuff in the truck

06:00 — get on the road to Frankfurt

Wake up man it’s late but not too late,
It’s six o’clock like everyday!

Get your things run and forget the rain,
Take power pills don’t miss your train!

09:30 — arrive Frankfurt train station (aaaaand music)

13:58 — catch the TGV to Avignon (this one sounds simple)

21:20 — arrive Avignon — rent car and drive to Vaison la Romaine

23:00(ish) — arrive Vaison la Romaine

You maybe asking — Hey, Geiser, this sounds like an awful lot of trouble to go through to get to Lisbon, when you could have just driven to Hamburg or Hannover and caught a plane and maybe waited for a reasonable hour to do so? WTF Man? What’s this all about anyway?

I am SO glad you asked! With a week to kill between GFNY Deutschland, and the inaugural GFNY Portugal, we decided that this was ample time to get to the South of France, and climb Mont Ventoux. I had wrestled with the great Giant of Provence twice in 2015 (a Friday on my own, and the following Sunday as part of GFNY Mont Ventoux), and I had a score to settle. While I may have been lighter then, I had the feeling that I was a better cyclist now. And I wanted to see what that looked like. It also allowed Aleksandra to live her dream of climbing the mountain. With Tom already planning to spend some time in that neck of the woods, we coordinated months in advance to create a plan to meet in Vaison la Romaine, spend a couple of days, climb the mountain, drive to Marseille, and fly to Lisbon with enough time to shakeout for GFNY Portugal. Just another week in September for intrepid GFNY travelers. Nothing to it. The only hard part should be the mountain…right?

Final check on the room in Hameln, and the truck is mostly loaded for our drive to Frankfurt.

So you got on the road?

Oh right, yes, thanks — aaand, we are back in — yes, we got on the road. Stopped two times for gas station coffee, and made pretty screaming time down to Frankfurt. We were actually on schedule. But here is where it gets complicated. Let’s drop Jack and Aleksandra, at Frankfurt Main, take the truck to a gas station, fill it up, drive it back to the airport, return it, and get on a quick train back to Frankfurt main.

Unloaded and ready at the train station. A Hammering Man replica, just like the one we have in Seattle. Except I am guessing this one didn’t get dropped.

After unloading I can say it went mostly to plan. With the exception of sorting out which train, which direction, how much to pay, and then getting back up to the station. We got our tickets printed, and we had time to spare, enough for a respectable, sit down lunch, and the purchase of some on-board snacks.

With the handy-dandy, Rick Steves website loaded on my phone, we established our strategy for boarding the TGV with 3 bicycles, 3 large roller bags, and 3 backpacks. While we had assigned seats for the first class section of the train, luggage on the TGV follows more of the “festival seating” model. With our train in the station, Rick told us that we could approach the train 20 minutes beforehand. I spoke to the conductor in French, and got his permission for us to board.

Deliver us from evil — I couldn’t believe that another country had been duped into drinking Dunkin’ Donuts coffee. Iggy on the cover of the DB magazine has to be a good sign. Oh wait, we are not riding DB.

This would make it a cake walk. But here is where it gets messy. As we had booked all three tickets in two goes, I had car 11 seat 82 for Aleksandra, and car 13 seats 105/106 for Jack and myself. You would think I could remember this. We knew it would be a heave-ho to get the bikes off the train in Avignon, so we developed a strategy ahead of time to plan for it, and it would work. Especially if Jack and I hadn’t sat (at my direction), in seats 105/106 in car 11, and if I hadn’t helped situate Aleksandra and her stuff in car 13. As the train continued to board, my mistake was exposed. We would change places with Aleksandra, but moving the bikes and bags was out of the question. We would have to get up at Lyon, and change places, to handle this effectively — No problem. We got this.

HA!

Now situated, seemingly from Frankfurt to Lyon, the train started to roll. An announcement in German that I half-caught. Followed by an announcement in French that made may say “MERDE!”, and followed by the dreaded confirmation in English.

Ladies and gentlemen, we are sorry for this inconvenience but this train will need to change equipment at Strasbourg, we will give you ample time to change trains, and will provide up to the moment track information.

This was bad. We would have to get everything down into the lower decks and get ready to move in the next two or three stops, and, be ready as we crossed the border into France, to dosi-d’oh the equipment to another train, while trying to stay ahead of a train full of passengers, and a platform full of new passengers all struggling to make their luggage fit on the train. MERDE!

By 4PM we were over the border. This text came in welcoming me as we were humping the bikes to the lower deck.

At Strasbourg it was a complete goat-rodeo. The trains had been lined up across the platform from each other, but in reverse car order. We now had to swim up stream, yelling “Regardez!” (Watch out) as we went to get the bikes through. Aleksandra was able to get onto the new car 13 without much issue and get everything stowed. As I got stuck behind another passenger, Jack was able to stand the bikes on end behind the last seat. It was sight to behold, and I thought we were home free. I settled in, to our seats, and the train started to roll. Within seconds of closing my eyes I heard the muted cry of “bicyclist!”. Fear and loathing took over as I opened my eyes. Both bikes had tipped and had the last single side seat occupant trapped under their collective weight. I moved back to the luggage area and began hoisting the bikes onto a luggage rack, on an angle, and warning the nice passengers in the seat in front of the rack to watch out.

Our arrival in Avignon was relatively on time.

We were ready to exit the train with all haste in Avignon. The lower deck became crowded with travelers eager to exit after a long afternoon’s journey from Frankfurt and points south. We were no exception to this, knowing we still had a car rental and a drive to Vaison ahead. But we were confident that the Marx Brothers portion of our program was over. Jack watched with amazement as the French Casey Jones cranked the train up to 318 kilometers per hour. Finally we slowed, and could see the platform materialize.

We exited to the platform, and found our way to the car rental counter. The transaction was quick and efficient and we even got an automatic transmission at no extra charge. (not that I object to a stick shift, but for as many roundabouts as we would see, and automatic was a nice bonus). We engaged the maps, and started to make our way.

Google Maps — and yay, all mapping programs on your phone, absolutely suck in the South of France. Let’s just own this. Do you own it? Good. There is no getting around that the roads ebb, and flow in all directions, and that route names and numbers are really guidelines. They work EXTREMELY WELL when you are following them exclusively, but combine that with a mapping program and it is a holy terror. Knowing the area as I did, I thought we could maybe follow the signs, but the map seemed to be doing ok at first. Until we ended up in a shopping mall parking lot, being told “proceed to the route”. Finally, we got some guidance that took us to the A7. Aleksandra was prepared and threw us a 3kg ziplock bag of Euro coins. We would need it. As we proceeded onto the A7, instead of following my instincts, I followed the GPS which told me to take the exit toward Nimes/Montpelier. I did it. I knew it was wrong and I did it anyway. Why not light a cigarette, put me in a 73 Ford Pinto, and back me into a brick wall. That’s how wrong it was. But according to Google, salvation was at the first rest stop. There at the rest stop, instead of asking (as Jack suggested), we zigged and zagged and hit three different dead ends. We gave up and went to the next exit. Uzes. We were really in the wrong direction now. But we were able to jump off, and back on, and get going toward Vaison again, and finally it was going our way. Once off the A7 we were all road signs and roundabouts. I recognized the area from my last visit and we were able to use the “trust but verify” system of Google maps now that we had an idea where we were and what to do next. Finally in Vaison, we were able to find Tom and Nancy’s place and get Aleksandra dropped off for some much needed rest.

Fawlty Towers

I won’t name our hotel in Vaison la Romain. Except to say that it was once the top cycling and tourist resort in town, it seemed to have fallen, literally on darker days. We pulled into the circular drive and were directed around the back by signage to the garage. We were traveling the garage in reverse of how it was laid out, and Jack and I were hysterical that our comedy of errors continued. With the car parked, we went inside to find the front desk actually still open. He provided us keys, and we assessed the elevator. We unloaded. Jack stacked the bikes in the elevator, pressed “2” and we both ran up the three flights of stairs to the elevator area to unload them, as we couldn’t fit ourselves and the bikes. No matter. But it was dark. We used flash lights to navigate to our rooms, and finally got our stuff put away. We would meet in the morning. After getting undressed, tucked in, turning the air conditioning up, and getting my phone plugged in, I noticed my new roomate.

The hotel tennis court — we are a long way from Roland Garris!

OK In all fairness, the place was really ok! It had just seen better days. It had a garage with a bike area, and a bike stand for putting our stuff together, and so it was really quite friendly. In meeting our gracious host the next morning, I casually asked about the lighting.

Excuse me, Mr. Fawlty, but might we actually be able to have lights on on the second floor?

There are no lights?

Well inside the room, yes, but in the hallways, no.

Oh, right that happened on the first floor last week, mate. We will get that fixed.

He then looked at his footman, across the counter who answered him in another language. Not English, not French.

You’ll have to excuse him. He’s from Barcelona. In Spain.

Our assault on Mont Ventoux would be on Wednesday, so we got ourselves down to Place Montforte, the main square of Vaison, and found some coffee. Tom, Nancy, and Aleksandra made their way up to meet us. We were S.O.L. for a full breakfast as it was Tuesday, and Tuesday is Market Day in Vaison. We had a cup of coffee, hit the market, and then hit the super market to get our own breakfast together before we got bikes back together and got out for a shakeout ride.

After breakfast Jack and I got back over to the hotel and got our bikes together. We would want to get out on the road, Tom would be picking up his bike (shipped to Malaucene by Mirko), and I wanted to get my bottom bracket checked out. It was a 10km ride to Malaucene, so the sooner we got started the better.

The bike garage included holdovers from GFNY Ventoux 2016. On the way back to the hotel, Jack and I got a look at Ventoux from a distance.

We had an easy spin over to Malaucene, where we stopped in at Ventoux Bikes. Tom had to straighten out some issues with his bike as it was shipped in, and I started to talk to a mechanic about my bottom bracket issues. The plan — a civilized lunch, Tom would ride back with Aleksandra and Jack, I would leave my bike, and drive back to Vaison with Nancy. My bike would be ready at 6.

To cut to the chase, it was a full bottom bracket replacement. “I think you live near the sea. The salt from the sea, it steals your grease!” 90 Euros later, it was replaced, and I was ready to go. (Merci Matthieu). The noises and clicking I had during GFNY Deutschland were getting disconcerting, so I was happy to have it fixed.

We had a fabulous dinner at Restaurant L’ Epicurien — this was a place that Tom and Nancy had found and was an undisputed 5 star experience. They had a unique menu, exquisite food, and amazing desert. We could not have asked for better. But we still had a mountain to climb.

Mont Ventoux

I won’t beat around the bush, or sugar coat the fact that I was out to prove something on this day. It had nothing to do with competition, with the exception of competing with myself. I won’t say that I was dissatisfied with how I performed in 2015, but I was uninitiated. I was not strategic. I had no idea how to go about managing my effort. I was also a little freaked out about my current gearing. Rocking the 53/39 with a 29 on the back turned the heads of more than a few people that I told about this trip. It would have to do. This was after all, an HC climb. This ain’t no party, this ain’t no time trial, this ain’t no foolin’ around.

I chose the same route I used on the Friday before GFNY Mont Ventoux in 2015. It went out through Malaucene, followed along the same roadway, and then turned in over Col de Madeleine (not that one), and then down into the town of Bedoin. The Bedoin approach is the one that is used by the pros in the Tour De France, and in the Dauphine. It is reputed to be the most difficult of the three. When I saw Uli a few days later in Portugal, he asked “You went up Bedoin of course?” It was the presumptive pro approach.

I led out, knowing the route by memory. I enjoyed every second of it and pondered the concept of having a French soul. I feel completely at ease in France for some reason, I am not sure why. It makes me happy to be there. To be there on a bicycle, even more so. I grew to feel the same ease, and at home feeling in Italy during GFNY Italia last year.

At KM 0 — the start of a 22 KM route to the top, we checked in at a local bike shop to get Tom a new power meter battery. This would be an essential effort measurement tool. I was myself, going to keep a close eye on power along with my heart rate to make sure I was spreading myself evenly over the 22KM to the top.

Finally we were rolling.

Kilometer 0, and the bike shop. The initial kick starting about 2KM in from the bike shop.

I was quickly off the back of our foursome, but it was admittedly without despair. My day today would not be about keeping up with the group. It would be about making sure that I was ahead of the 2:13 mark that I had in my mind as what needed to be done to ensure that I was improving as a cyclist, a climber, and a person. I could not have a bad day. I needed to protect my frail ego from failure, and I was ready to do anything I could to make that happen.

As the pavement started to kick up to the requisite 8% + I knew that I was beyond all respite until the “softening” at Chalet Reynard, with about 7KM to go. I was already 39/29, and there I would stay, trying my best to manage a fast cadence for as long as I could. As we meandered through the woods, I saw parts of the group, specifically Tom, and Aleksandra get further away. I had Jack in sight, but I couldn’t catch him. I was unwilling to burn a match on such a frivolity as catch up. I would either catch him with my strategy, or I wouldn’t. Spoiler alert — I wouldn’t. But I could see him all the way to the top.

About 10KM a French rider came up along side me and put his hand on my back. Concentrating, and not being able to see, I freaked out a little. Quel suprise?! What the hell is happening? He apologized and explained he was trying to help me. I mean, I get it, but if you don’t know a fella, you don’t put your hands on a fella on an HC climb while he has blood pouring out of his eye balls from his effort.

“I don’t need any, I don’t want any, Merci!”

He moved on. I kept pedaling, through the doldrums of the Ventoux forest where the mile marker stones are few and far between, and where the KM numbers don’t count down as fast as the grade numbers kick up. This was the thick of it, the toughest part. Where it continually kicks up over 9, 10, 12% without relenting. A long road ahead that you can see the torture laid out in front of you as you continue to climb. Finally, I came into the sunlight and turned. I could see the top again, and the road turned to the left and twisted around to the approach to Chalet Reynard. I could see the green and black GFNY colors on Aleksandra as she continued up from the Chalet. The signs for big horn sheep gave me a boost of confidence, as I could now get into countdown mode.

I started to mark the KM in my head as I went. I should see the photographers soon. I should see Tom Simpson soon. Maybe not, maybe I was still at the bottom of the approach to the top — I was. It started to get difficult again, as I knew it would. The thing about this part of Mont Ventoux is, for some reason, even as you get closer, it doesn’t feel like you are getting closer. Despair starts to set in. As I got to the final turn, before I knew the top was coming, it kicked up again. I was now shouting fucking 53/39/29 — gear numbers randomly, like I was having a stroke. Frustrated at how hard it was to push, I was thinking:

This has to be going on three fucking hours. There is no way I am under 2:45. Fuck it, I will be happy to be at the fucking top, and be done with this sick fucking fantasy.

It kicked again, and I kept pedaling. My head was down, and I heard my name.

GEISER!

Tom, what the hell are you doing here?

Cramped up, rode it out, here I am.

We both kept pressing. We were close. Just the 20% kicker at the very top. We were up. I hit the lap timer. when I got to the flat. I screamed! YEAAAAAAH! Like Roger Daltrey getting ready to tell me who the new boss is! People around me laughed.

TWO FUCKING ELEVEN!

Are you kidding me? 2:11. I was thinking it was three hours. I hit the lap timer at KM 0. 2:11. I was 2 minutes ahead of the 2:13 I was thinking. But that wasn’t the real story of my comparison to 2015. I had hit an almost 10:00 difference (in a good way), in the Strava Segment. (Obviously not measured from KM 0, but it was how I was tracking my time).

Almost 10 minutes difference in the Strava Segment from Bedoin.

We called Ventoux a success and reveled for a while before getting ready for the descent. I had brought my 2015 GFNY Mont Ventoux gillet, for just this occasion.

For the last laugh at Fawlty Towers, Jack and I got ready to pack the bikes. We would be out to Marseilles in the morning, and wanted to make sure we could eat dinner with a clear head. But first I needed a cup of coffee. Throughout our stay, I was walking into the grand cafe of the hotel, and availing myself of the coffee machine. Thinking, it’s there, it has cups, and it’s not coin operated. Well — to the chagrin of the aforementioned footman, when he finally caught me inflagrante cafe, so to speak.

Hey — that is not free — just for breakfast.

Uh oh! I made quick with the Humble Pie face, to protest my innocence and ignorance, while offering to pay for the coffee. We shook hands, and Jack and I enjoyed our last cup at the hotel before we would depart in the morning. In 24 hours we would have a different stunning view in Portugal. But we had work to do and bikes to pack before dinner and rest.

On to Portugal

The race in Portugal, already documented, was an amazing experience. With time after the race, we were able to create an amazing addition to the whole GFNY Double-Double experience and see some of the countryside, beaches, and history that makes travel so fascinating.

Editors note: Portugal — is amazing!

While Tom and Nancy, needed to get back to France to fulfill the remainder of their plans in Cognac, we decided to take a day trip to Sintra, and see the Castle of the Moors, as well as the colorful palace that sat atop the beautiful Portuguese seashore.

We split into groups with some taking the Tuk-Tuk (small motor carriage), up the hill, and the rest of us taking the climb on foot. With almost 300 meters in climbing done, we were at the Castle of the Moors, and walking the battlements. A mix up on the Tuk-Tuk took the remainder of the group to the palace. Either way, we were able to see some amazing history, and beautiful scenery, before taking the Tuk-Tuk down. Then recovery ride, beach, and dinner.

For our last dinner together in Cascais, we chose a local pub-fare type place. Easy in, easy out, nobody gets hurt.

How’s the fish and chips?

Oh wonderful, prepared in the English way, but with beautiful hake fish, meaning no bones.

We ordered.

Oh by the way, we were out of hake fish — this is sole — you have heard of sole maybe? This sole has bones but it is a better fish. Just be careful of the bones.

The next morning, we were on our way. Back to reality, back to the states, and back with the perspectives that only travel can bring. After 12 days of traveling I was tired and a little ready for my own bed. But not so tired, that I am not already looking forward to what lies ahead. With the podcasts teasing out things that may happen in March and June, I am already planning how I will divide up my time off. This trip was special in that my better half was able to make it to Portugal. To be able to share it with Chaz, was an amazing thing. Not only to see her waiting for me at the finish line, but to share all of the other experiences with her. To have a friendship of 27 years, with Jack, rekindled — how else could you do that? We bonded with travel, and racing, and it was like we hadn’t lived 3000 miles away from each other these past 20 years. We picked up right where we left off. And the Gavia team, to have so many there, from all over, Tom and Nancy from California. Aleksandra, Adrienne, Ari, Mike, BTG Greg, Alicia and myself, all there from NYC. Jack from Seattle. Clarence and his wife from Germany. Noel, and Luis from Puerto Rico. The shouts of “hey Mister Double Double” from people I didn’t know. More friends, in at least four more countries. More Strava profiles to follow, to see where everyone is riding, or traveling to.

More GFNY races ahead, more travel. More! More!

I feel the hot wind on my shoulder
I dial in, south of the border
Hear the talking of the DJ –
Can’t understand, what’s he say?

I’m on the Mexican radio
I’m on the Mexican radio
I’m on the Mexican radio
I’m on the Mexican radio