Once upon a Father`s Day Velvet ride: save the date!

Summer 2016 | Issue 3
Pedal Pusher
The
a publication of the Westerville Bicycle Club
Once upon a Father’s Day
President’s Pen | Rich Heitman
“On a bicycle you feel a different
person; you forget who you are.”
Dorothy Richardson
“It was like a new life starting up,
as if till then I’d been tied up by a
mile-long rope round the ankle to
home.” Alan Sillitoe
Fathers Days are always a bit
awkward for me. I’ve never
been a believer in greeting card
holidays. And I’ve never been
sure how to spend them with my
kids. Why is this day any different
than any other Sunday in June
spent with family?
My father died when I was in
my early 20’s. We never really
did anything special for father’s
Day that I can recall, other than
cook one of his favorite meals.
Inside this issue
COP Velvet Ride
3
STOPPING ON THE ROAD
4
Ride of Silence
5
Camaraderie
7
TOSRV memories
8
A trip back in time
9
More Ride of Silence Shots10
I think the closest we came to
father-and-son activity was when
I was marching in drum and
bugle corps. He was our corps
quartermaster and I was in the
drum line. We usually had a
competition and were out of town
on Father’s Day. So there was no
family cookout those years but we
did spend the weekend together,
sort of. He was always busy with
the equipment and I was focused
on the drum line, rehearsing for
the show and our performance in
the competition. The corps won a
local competition once on Father’s
Day and we celebrated on the
way home and that was cool.
I have a wonderful step-father
who is a great man and a
wonderful grandfather for my
children. I was already thirty
when he and my Mom married
and starting a family of my own.
We had the usual family cookouts
for a few years, and then I moved
my family to Ohio and we’re not
usually in N.J. over this weekend.
So it’s usually a card and a call,
or just a call. (Remember I don’t
believe in greeting card holidays)
I’ve always enjoyed spending
time with my daughters and
son. And I didn’t need a special
day. I coached some of their
teams, went to all of their games,
races, concerts and theatre
performances. One daughter
and I used to run and race
together. My other daughter
and I had season tickets for the
Blue Jackets. And my son and I
enjoy a steadfast love of the Mets
(Browns fans will understand).
Father’s Day was always pretty
simple for us but I always felt like
I should share the day more with
my son as he got older. Like there
should be some activity we do
every year. A father-son tradition
if you will. It never happened.
He’s a very good golfer as is
my stepfather. I am not. We’ve
Continued on next page
Velvet ride:
save the date!
Save Sunday, July 17, for
the TeamCOPC Velvet ride,
rolling from Gahanna. To get
you in the mood, dip into the
delicious story of how the ride
began, on page 3.
President’s Pen, continued
played together a few times but
I always knew I was holding
them up. Over time it became
an activity that they share and
enjoy. I’m okay with that.
I used to fish a lot. We only went
a few times and I stopped going
when we moved to Ohio. In my
running days we never ran much
together. So we used to have a
game of catch on Father’s Day.
I told him that would be his gift
to me. It worked out for a few
years. Then my glove got old and
fell apart and he moved and took
his with him. It’s tough to play
catch without a glove.
When I discovered cycling I tried
to get all of family interested. No
takers at first. So I bought my
son a bike when he graduated
from law school and slowly he
began to ride. We never rode
together often and when we
did it was usually short rides
around the neighborhood. He
started cycling for fitness. Now
he also rides because he works
for a large bank that sponsors
Pelotonia, and they encourage
their employees to participate.
And I hope at least some of it is
because we raised our kids to be
good community citizens.
We ride together on the
Wednesday night rides when we
can. We have different styles and
goals and sometimes it’s hard
to stay together. And it seemed
like we never talked much. We
might ride for miles absorbed in
our silence. It wasn’t dull – just
silent. But over the past few
years we’ve had some interesting
experiences, like this past
Wednesday when we got caught
out in the thunderstorm on the
WBC Wednesday night ride.
Then this past Saturday, my son
Kyle and I went on a fifty mile
ride. We didn’t try to break any
records or set a personal best.
We shared the work and the hills
and talked some about work, the
Mets and the Cavs. We shared
our snacks. We took a break at
Bevelheimer Park to rest and
cool off. And best of all, we spent
three and a half hours together,
just two guys enjoying a ride on
Saturday morning.
The girls have moved out-of-state
and I miss them. They called
and we had a nice chat but I
wish I could see them and my
grandchildren more. Thanks to
Skype I am able to say hi to my
grandchildren and watch them
grow. It will always be fun to
talk to them on Father’s Day and
sometimes visit them.
But this past Saturday, I had one
of the best (early) Father’s Day’s
ever.
Westerville Bike Path
We recently accepted an offer
from the Westerville Parks
Foundation to sponsor a section
of the Westerville Bike Path. The
Westerville Bicycle Club will be
a bronze sponsor of the Huber
Village Bike Path. We will have a
sign(s) along the path announcing
our sponsorship and we will be
included in the list of sponsors on
all Westerville Parks’ publications
related to the bike path. We will
discuss this at our Sept. meeting.
There will be a dedication soon.
I’ll provide details when I know.
Personal Cycling
Reevaluation
As many of you know, it’s not
always easy for me to ride in a
group (both socially and from a
skills perspective). I’m used to
the solitary way of a runner. I
don’t talk much usually. It’s been
a slow change.
Beginning last August, I started
to assess what I really want out
of cycling. It was getting more
like my running and masters
racing and less-and-less fun.
Then my cycling partner died. It
made me take a look at myself.
Over the past months I’ve
slowly changed my approach
and attitude towards riding my
bike. I’m trying to ride more with
groups and trying to stay with the
group and enjoy the camaraderie.
I’m no longer chasing total annual
mileage. I’m not chasing average
MPH, though I do try to break off
a fast one every now and again
and I still love pushing it up the
hills. I began to take my bike with
me when I travel out of state. I’ve
come to realize cycling is a great
way to meet new friends and
share new adventures. It has a
spiritual pureness that I find each
time I ride simply by pushing the
pedals and sharing the road.
Have a safe summer, and I’ll see
you on the roads.
Save the Date: Dry Run, 9/11
Sunday, September 11th, is the WBC’s annual Dry Run. Be ready
for the call for volunteers, from marking the route, performing
“Dry Run” dry runs, driving SAG, assisting at registration or rest
stops, you name it. And, of course, the hallmark of our ride:
cookies. We need lots of members baking their favorite cookies.
Sue Olander on April’s “Pancake
Extravaganza” Ride
The Pedal Pusher | 2
COPC Velvet Ride, churned up 2010… and 2016
Mike Perry
It was midsummer, 2010, and
we were a whole year into our
cycling careers. Sure, we had
ridden as kids, and around the
neighborhood, but we hadn’t done
significant road riding until the
first Pelotonia in 2009. We had
formed a new team (teamCOPC)
for the 2010 ride, and one in the
group joked that we should ride
to Utica for ice cream. Now, I had
never heard of Utica or Velvet
Ice Cream, but it sounded like a
fun idea for a destination ride. It
would be a longer ride than most
of us had ever done, but we had
made it 43 miles for Pelotonia,
so we “knew” we had it under
control. We looked at some online
maps, plotted a course, and set
the date.
We really didn’t know yet what
we were in for. You see, we had
been told that the terrain out that
way was a little hilly, but that
really didn’t register. On the map,
the roads all looked just fine.
When the date came, 23 of us set
out from New Albany on the first
Velvet Ice Cream Ride. We felt
so confident as we took the now
familiar path toward Alexandria,
enjoying the slight downhill with
blind confidence. And then, reality
settled in. Northridge, Marion,
Reynolds, Weaver! What were we
doing? We wearily got to Utica,
greeted by family to share lunch
and some ice cream. Oh yeah, the
ice cream. Bad idea on a hot day
with 32 miles to go! Then,
we met Homer Road. Right
after lunch. Not a good
scene. We got through it
though, mostly without
tears, and found our way
to Bennington Chapel, a
long, hot rolling asphalt
sweatshop. From there, the
achievement was within
reach, as we just had 18
downhill miles to go. Hours
after we embarked, we
were home.
The next year, 60 riders
Refueling
went, with one particular
minor challenge. Lesson
learned – drive the entire route
to avoid 1.5 miles of gravel with
60 bicycles. In 2012, 100 riders
came along, and Ye Olde Mill at
Velvet opened their doors early
just for us. They prepared a
menu for us, and switched to ice
cream vouchers (no more riding
up Homer Road with
“ice cream belly”).
We added a century
option up to Gambier
along the new
Pelotonia routes. We
had volunteers and
fantastic rest stops,
road markings,
printed maps and
SAG. Riders could
choose to ride up
the famed Reynolds
Road hill, or bypass
it via less drastic
terrain. The next
year we had 150
riders. Our little trip
for ice cream had blossomed into
an event, attracting riders from
the entire cycling community.
at Ye Olde Mill in Utica.
confidently increase their chosen
Pelotonia distance. It wasn’t a
side effect we planned on, but
how great it was nonetheless!
In 2014, we added a picnic after
the ride, and for the first time
charged a fee for the event, and
over the last 2 years, we have
raised over $9000 for Pelotonia
from our little ride for ice cream.
If the Velvet Ice Cream Ride
and Picnic sounds like something
you’d like to experience yourself,
the 2016 event will be on July 17.
You can get more information and
register at https://icecreamride.
ticketbud.com/2016-velvet-icecream-ride-ee59b58812b3. It
will me the most delicious and
rewarding $50 you’ve ever spent.
The Velvet Ice Cream Ride had
another unexpected consequence.
While we had become seasoned
cyclists, for many, it would be
their first long ride, just as it had
been for us. Scheduled just a few
weeks before Pelotonia, it gave
folks a benchmark of sorts to
gauge their training. The fantastic
result was that quite a few, after
completing Velvet, were able to
The Pedal Pusher | 3
STOPPING ON THE ROAD... or...
Pulling over, and off, the road
Mike Perakis
It’s inevitable, you get a flat, something needs to be adjusted, or you just need a break. The next time you stop
on the side of the road, there’s a right way, and many wrong ways, to pull over. Here are a few staged photos
(based on real riders, seen stopped on the road in the last few months) showing BAD, BETTER and BEST ways to
take a break.
BAD - THIS IS NOT THE WAY TO STOP
This rider is in the middle of the road, not paying
attention to traffic, and did not move out of the
lane when traffic approached. Please don’t set
this bad example to motorists.
BETTER – BUT, THIS STILL GETS A FROWNY FACE
This rider moved to the side of the road, but is
still blocking the lane. Cars will have an easier
time passing, but will still think of the bikes as a
nuisance.
BEST – THESE RIDERS GET A THUMBS-UP
The riders pulled into a convenient driveway, completely off the road. They’re thinking
about getting out of the way of traffic. As an extra bonus, they’re safer over there,
too. When we ask cars to swerve around bikes, they sometimes don’t do it safely,
putting us, them, and other cars in danger.
The Pedal Pusher | 4
Ride of Silence
Diane Lemay
Silence. A period of “empty.”
Sounds. Bagpipes. Amazing
Grace. Shoes clipping pedals.
Chains. Squeaky brakes. Sirens.
Spectators asking “why”, “how far
‘ya riding?” “Whatcha riding for?”
“Dad, what’s the bikathon for?”
Silence. Empty. No response from
the riders. No “on your left” or
“right turn.”
Sights. Stream of moving color.
Helmets, or none. Police from all
districts on bikes. Lights. Flashing
lights. Children in pajamas.
Waiters. Couples in love dining
outside. Riders focused ahead.
Not turning toward spectators.
Lining of streets. All hand signals.
Silence. That empty.
To remember those who have
been hit on our roads while
riding. Some survivors, like Steve
Wartenberg. Some not, like Steve
Barbour.
Silence. The
empty ghost
bike. The empty
family left
behind. The
empty chair at
the table. The
child without a
parent. Empty.
Next time you
have silence,
stop and think.
Fill the empty.
Because you can.
Think of those
who went out for
a Sunday ride.
To do something
they enjoyed.
Harming no one.
Some hit-skipped.
Left to die
alongside the road. Alone.
Riding up High Street. Photo by Sue Olander
They are not “mailboxes,” or
“deer”. They are mothers, fathers,
daughters, sons. Loved by
someone. Worthy.
My first Ride of Silence will be the
most memorable 8 miles in an
hour that I ride in my life.
Empty. Silent. Moving.
Police Captain Kim Jacobs speaks before the ride. Standing with her are the officers who will be on bicycle, riding with us, and
blocking intersections. They are from Columbus, Grove City, Hilliard, Reynoldsburg, and Upper Arlington. Photo by Shari Heinrich
Shari Heinrich
“In silence, the word.” I’ve long
held this quote in my mind as
poignant because of how author
Ursula LeGuin used it A Wizard of
Earthsea.
The National Ride of Silence
speaks the same volumes in the
silence of bicyclists riding down
the city streets where riders are
harassed, hit, killed, even though
state laws permit us to share the
roads with other vehicles and
other vulnerable users.
I may be a bicyclist, but that’s the
least of who I am. In the silence
of the ride, I look around. I see
fathers and mothers; sons and
daughters; brothers and sisters;
men and women; Caucasian,
African-American, Asian, and
more; road-riders, hipsters,
racers, messengers, every-day
riders. We are all people who
matter.
In this ride, I am alone in my
thoughts of remembrance even as
I am surrounded by the hundreds
of others doing the same, all
of us more than bicyclists. My
friend Steve Barbour is forever
The Pedal Pusher | 5
silent when he should have
had wonderful years of bicycle
adventures in his retirement,
touching so many other bicyclists.
This year, 26 more voices were
silenced forever in Ohio alone.
Hundreds more have endured
rehab after motorists made
decisions and choices that
resulted in a collision. A thousand
pounds of metal against a person
on a bicycle because of those
choices.
In the 1970s, my own teenage
brother Steve might have died
before my eyes—my sister’s
eyes—and my mother’s eyes.
A motorist failed to stop at the
intersection where my brother
had the right-of-way as he cycled
downhill, a hundred yards from
meeting us for lunch at the mall.
That’s when the car turned in
front of him. My brother flew
across the hood. Hit the ground.
Through some unexplainable twist
of fate, he walked away from that
collision. Today, in silence, I say
my thanks.
No matter how many miles I ride
in a year, or how few, I make
the time to do this ride. I need
to be part of the event where we
remember lives; where our silent
presence draws attention.
Maybe one more person will make
a different decision while driving;
will see me not as a bicyclist, not
as the obstacle between them and
a destination, but as a person.
They will decide bicyclists are
more important than the voice or
image on the phone.
This ghost bike will ride with us, representing
those we have lost. Other ghost bikes were
placed along the route to help educate residents
why we rode. Photo by Shari Heinrich
Until then, in silence, my tears.
Officers
President
Rich Heitman
org
Social Chairperson
president@westervillebicycleclub.
Vice President
Andrew Grandjean
Jeff Pierron
[email protected]
[email protected]
[email protected]
Membership
Janet Hayes
org
membership@westervillebicycleclub.
Ride Director
Jon Hayes
[email protected]
Adopt-A-Highway
Amy Rees
org
adoptahighway@westervillebicycleclub.
Bike Box Coordinator
Secretary
Stacy Dilts
[email protected]
Dry Run Director
Treasurer
Amy Rees
Kathy Petrucci
Mike Perakis
[email protected]
Clothing Coordinator
Ann Morahan
[email protected]
WebCrank
Chuck Perry
[email protected]
[email protected]
Wednesday Night Ride Coord.
Tim Crandall
[email protected]
Newsletter Editor/Publisher
Shari Heinrich
org
newsletter@westervillebicycleclub.
PO Box 356
Westerville OH 43086-0356
www.westervillebicycleclub.org
Education & Adocacy Director
Alan Martin
[email protected]
The Pedal Pusher | 6
Camaraderie heading to the Ride of Silence
Shari Heinrich
Every year, save the third Wednesday of May for the
National Ride of Silence. This year was the thirteenth
annual Ride of Silence.
WBC rolls from the the second meet point, Park of
Roses. Our numbers keep growing.
The event began as founder Chris Phelan’s way to
honor Larry Schwartz, killed in 2003 when a bus driver
hit Larry with the
side-view mirror.
Based on the efforts
of Larry Graham
and Jeff Stephens,
bicyclists who also
knew Mr. Schwartz,
the ride came to
Columbus the next
year.
From their efforts, to
COBAC’s, to Consider
Biking’s, and now
to Yay Bikes!, the
ride continues in
Columbus.
Barry Schumann after the ride.
It’s good to have a group for the
return, as we decompress from
the solemnity of the ride.
Before and after
the silence, we are
joyful—riding with
our friends. Riding
because we love it.
Annette Bartz and the rest of the WBCers wait
for the program to begin.
Nikki Heath tries on her new helmet after Mike
Perakis assists her with adjustments for a better fit.
Pat and Dennis Reader, with Pat in the famous
Honey Badger jersey.
The Pedal Pusher is a publication of the Westerville Bicycle Club, Central Ohio’s premier cycling organization.
Questions or comments should be directed to Shari Heinrich, editor/publisher.
All articles and photos for submission into the Fall issue of the Pedal Pusher need to be in by August 15, 2016.
Articles and photos can be sent to [email protected].
The Pedal Pusher | 7
TOSRV memories
Chuck Perry
I first heard about TOSRV from
a work mate in the fall of 1980,
shortly after moving to Ohio.
Up to that point, the longest
ride I had ever done was 45
miles, which seemed like a huge
accomplishment for me. As I
listened to him describe the
TOSRV experience, I thought he
was pulling my leg—after all, no
one could possibly ride a bicycle
100 miles, let alone turn around
the following day to do it again.
I found out it was real, and the
more I thought about it, the more
the challenge appealed to me.
When applications came out on
February 1st, I filled it out the
same day, enclosed my check
for $20 (that included dinner
Saturday night by the way), then
drove to the main post office
downtown that night. That was in
1981, which was the 20th annual
running of the event and only
about 6000 riders were accepted
while another 1500 or 2000 were
rejected due to the limitation
on how many people could find
space to put a sleeping bag on
the gym floors. You could still be
accepted if you made your own
accommodations, but there was
really only 1 hotel in Portsmouth,
which repeat riders reserved a
year in advance and put 6 or 8
people in the room. Some could
arrange to stay in a home where
someone knew someone who
knew someone but the Tour
always filled up with rejection
letters being sent out sometime
mid February.
I got my acceptance letter and
was rider number 1310 that year.
This was the first bike ride of its
kind in the world, so it attracted
riders from all over the US and
even some from other countries
to participate in this event. The
city and bike shops were abuzz
with bicyclists during the week
before TOSRV.
I started my “training.” That was
before the Westerville Bicycle
Club had been formed and I
didn’t have others to ride with, no
maps, no computer or odometer,
and no idea what I should be
doing. I would ride across Hoover
Dam and explore the back roads,
never sure if I could find my way
back home. I felt like a pioneer,
discovering roads that no one else
knew about but was probably only
riding a 10 or 15 mile loop each
time. That was back in the days
when we didn’t wear helmets and
our clothing was jeans, a cotton
t-shirt or sweatshirt, with tennis
shoes, and we were riding heavy
steel 5-speed or 10-speed bikes.
My dad, who was an avid cyclist,
came from Syracuse, NY, to do
the ride with me and we thought
we could probably tough it out
for the first day, but weren’t sure
we’d be able to do the 100 miles
again on Sunday, so I arranged
for my wife to drive down to
Portsmouth to bring us back
Saturday evening. Dorothy was so
supportive and I still think about
what an act of love that was for
her to drive all the way down
there and then turn right around
and drive back while my dad and
I immediately fell asleep.
I was hooked and knew I had
to do the 200-mile ride again.
In 1982 my dad again returned
to ride TOSRV with me and the
weather was about perfect. We
completed both days and got our
certificates of completion with the
coveted Gold seal, it was so much
fun to ride with that many cyclists
on the road. We had this TOSRV
thing figured out!
Then came TOSRV 83. Saturday
gave us a high of 94 degrees
with winds out of the South at
20-35 mph. Sunday morning
we packed any warm clothing in
our bags for the truck. Then the
temperature dropped into the low
40’s; headwinds gusted to 15-20
mph. In Chillicothe, lines of riders
waited at phone booths to call for
a ride home.
I ended up riding TOSRV for 32
years, although haven’t for the
past 3, and it’s all about the
weather. I experienced every
combination of temperatures,
rain, flooded roads, and wind,
some good and some bad. I even
remember a couple of years when
the temperature was in the mid
70s with a gentle tailwind both
days. We experienced marriage
proposals, a wedding when the
bride (in her wedding dress) and
groom rode from Columbus to
Chillicothe on individual bikes,
got married in Mead Park, then
continued to Portsmouth on a
tandem. Many people would do
weird things to attract attention,
a couple of guys rode in rented
tuxedos, there were live animals
riding in trailers, crazy helmet
decorations, a life-size mannequin
pedaling on the back of a tandem.
At the very beginning of “car
phones” members of WBC bought
fake curly antennas like you
used to see on the back windows
of cars and stuck them to our
helmets. Many people didn’t get
the joke and criticized us for
not being able to go anywhere
without our stupid phones.
One of the most memorable
years was 1987 when three of
my friends and I decided to build
a 5-person bike. We went to the
Columbus police auction and
bought 5 bikes then proceeded
to cut them apart and weld them
back together into two tandems
that we joined side by side with
the intent to add another rider in
recumbent position out front. We
had enough problems engineering
the 4-person component so
abandoned the 5th position.
We knew nothing of front-end
steering or wheel alignment.
This contraption wanted to follow
the crown of the road so we
constantly struggled to keep it
out of the ditch. This was the year
the TOSRV lore claimed would be
the sighting of the “Great Scioto
River Chicken” which hadn’t made
an appearance since 1887, so
we named our bike the “Chicken
Ship.” We had a lot of fun creating
it and even more fun riding it
to Portsmouth. The Dispatch
featured us on the front page,
and TV news covered us, we were
such a spectacle on the road.
TOSRV is not the spectacle it once
was, but I have some wonderful
memories.
The Pedal Pusher | 8
A trip back in time: TOSRV 87
Submitted by Chuck Perry
Riders will try to handle bicycle built-for-four
Among the 5,000 cyclists expected for the 26th Annual Tour of the
Scioto River Valley this weekend will be the four men who made four
two-wheelers into one four-wheeler. Riding together are, from left front,
Roger Lewis and Chuck Perry, and, from left rear, Al Smith and Ray
Yorizzo. Dispatch photo by Ken Chamberlain
WBC supports the Ride of Silence yearly,
whether it’s our substantial donation to
help underwrite some of the cost, paying
for and cutting the arm bands, or riding.
Photo by Shari Heinrich
The Pedal Pusher | 9
Westerville Bicycle Club
PO Box 356
Westerville OH 43086-0356
More shots from the Ride of Silence
Photos by Shari Heinrich
unless attributed otherwise.
Photo by Sue Olander
The Pedal Pusher | 10