BicycleWORKS Unravels on Gravel

'Start slow, then taper off' - Walt Stack, on how to win endurance races.

On July 25th, five bike riders left Creve Coeur Park on the first fundraising ride for Bicycle Works. The goal: Get to Sedalia, 225 miles away, on the Katy Trail without sleeping for more than 29 minutes at a time. Four didn't make it and as of this writing, Tommy is still out there. The ride doesn't have a name, but it might become known as, 'The One Night Stand.' Or maybe, 'Unravel on Gravel 2008'. Anyway, it attracted a lot of notoriety, and put the five riders, Patrick Van der Tuin, Joe Pierce, Tom Hill, Eric DiFate and Bob Foster, in touch with their inadequacies. Here's what happened:

At three in the morning, soaked to the skin with sweat and rain, cloaked in spider webs and a thick layer of gravel paste, it was really hard to remember a time when this bike ride had been a good idea. The Katy Trail was the same it had been for the last 18 hours: Ten feet wide, flat as day-old soda and covered in gravel 'pug' that tossed off chalky dust, or gritty slurry, or both, whenever aggravated by our bike wheels. Most of the group had never ridden on a surface like this - it siphoned momentum from our bikes and made every pedal stroke an effort.

But, it was three in the morning, our thereabouts, where they hit the 100-mile mark. For four of the riders, it was the farthest they'd ever ridden without stopping. The fifth rider was pulling a trailer that kept tipping backward and digging its heels into the trail. It was a personal triumph shared by the five guys. To get that far, they'd had to dig deep. They'd ridden through severe thunderstorms, temperatures and humidity in the high 90s, leg cramps, empty stomachs, flat tires and other mechanical problems. Tommy would randomly just sail off the trail into the woods.

All agreed: Getting chased by a giant turtle was kind of messed up, you know?

'Just think, if we do this ride 100 more times, we could buy the building for Bike Works,' somebody said. 'Go @#$%^ yourself,' everybody else said. As a fundraiser, it had been very successful. Lots of people seemed to grasp the sheer audacity and difficulty of going LONG on the Katy Trail without the sweet relief of sleep, showers or even reclining comfortably. They'd recognized the effort with generous pledges.

So the guys kept going, fueled by coffee and fritos and peanut butter and bananas and Scotch, until about 4:30 as the sun was starting to show. They reached a trailhead near Jefferson City, with water, restrooms and the most uncomfortable narrow wooden benches on the whole planet. Patrick used a blue vinyl tarp as a blanket, Bob wore a raincoat. Joe was barefoot and Eric had carpal tunnel from changing flats all day. Just a few minutes rest... less than half an hour... like it said in the press release... well, maybe a little longer...

SLAM! Car doors are slamming. It's five a.m. and the Jefferson City Jogging and Loud Talking Club is on the site. 'Um, yeah, thanks for the wake-up call.'

You gotta think the joggers were a little alarmed by five soaking wet, filthy guys who were staring blankly and unable to finish whole sentences. By 7 a.m., the riding resumed, and the trail was the same, with a thick cloud of Missouri River fog shrouding the distance. Two hours later, the fog was turning to steam in the lowland sun, and the heat was taking its toll. Tommy had sailed off again, this time west toward Clinton, but the other riders were suffering. Two had severe stomach cramps and the others were riding slow. It was going to be a long, hot, humid day, and eventually all agreed, it was too much to expect to get to Sedalia, another 70 miles away.

They made the call at Dottie's Diner in Hartsburg. 'Please come and get us.'

So after 120 miles, for four of them, the ride ended. They'd watched lightning rip the night sky over the Missouri River, and ridden with tongues out catching the rain. There'd been sweet potato fries, all you can eat catfish, and not enough water. Butterflies, frogs, bluebirds and goldfinches kept them company, along with the sound of gravel under the wheels, lots of laughter and more than a little cussing. It had been a piss-poor idea, but what the hell, they tried.

As for the last rider, Tommy would not stop. Knowing the pledge ride was over something still burning inside him, for the pride and glory he knew he must continue. Tommy made it to Sedalia with minimal sleep by 5pm Saturday afternoon. But that wasn't enough, after a good rest he turned around and rode home, he did a total of 4XX miles over four days. The pledge stands as agreed, 120 miles for the team, but those donors with deep pockets are certainly welcome to supports Tommy's efforts for the whole 225.

Check out all the photos on the ride's Flickr page.

Thanks again for all your support!

Patrick, Bob, Eric, Joe and Tom