Suzanne Schlosberg, often seen on the CVC advanced rec. and racer rides, has twice done what most of us have only thought about: ridden her bike across the US. She has also ridden the SF to LA Great California Land Rush -- 420 miles in 2 days! Suzanne, a free lance writer and former senior editor at Shape Magazine, reported to a Florida newspaper on her adventures. Here are excerpts from her dispatches:
BLYTHE, Calif. --- Having just cycled 96 miles in 102 degree heat, I'm now recovering on the grass at an RV park in an area of the California desert that somehow got named The Riveria. The campground overlooks the calm, blue Colorado River and a row of palm trees -- as well as an interstate highway, a McDonald's billboard and a Texaco station.
At any rate, I'm quite glad to be sitting on the ground instead of my bicycle seat. I spent today, Day 4 of our 47-day trek from Anaheim to Orlando -- trying to keep up with demon cyclist Jeff Clifford of Boston, a 20-year-old bicycle messenger with about 1 percent body fat. The temperature out here among the sand dunes and desert brush has hovered around 100 for the past two days; when we stopped at a roadside food store a few hours ago, Clifford pulled out a sweaty, soggy dollar bill and the sales clerk tossed it into the microwave. [Better than the burritos -- ed.]
After four days on the road, traveling from the San Diego shore to the giant rock formations of the high desert, it's apparent that our enthusiastic group of 74 cyclists is as diverse as the California scenery.
They range in age from 15 to 66. The average age is 39. Some are veteran cross-country trekkers who can dismantle a tent faster than they can unwrap a package of Fig Newtons; others are first-time cyclists and campers who accidentally pitch their tents on a slope with their head going downhill. (And then there are veterans like me who accidentally pitch their tents on a slope with their head going downhill).
The early risers hit the road about 6:15 a.m., about 7 seconds after the sun rises; the last ones leave camp about 8 a.m. when the truck carrying our gear takes off. Depending on how fast they are and how often they stop to eat, nap, or check out the sights, the riders trickle into camp between 2 and 7:30 p.m.
They've all gone to great lengths to get here -- negotiating leaves of absence from work, even quitting their jobs. But they've come for vastly different reasons.
Some, including Chris Fallon of East Northpoint, N.Y., are here to loose weight. Fallon, 27, a graduate of New York's Culinary Institute, says perhaps he learned a little too much in school, particularly where cream sauces are concerned.
"It's my own cooking that does it," says the 5foot-10, 220-pound Fallon, patting the belly he hopes will disappear over the next six weeks. "Plus, my mom's Italian, and my dad's Irish. So half of the family's going, 'Eat, eat, eat.' And the other half's going, 'Drink, drink, drink.'"
A number of people are here because they have something to prove -- to themselves and to others.
Pat Riordan, a USAir pilot for 35 years, was forced into retirement last month when he turned 60. He want to show that he still has what it takes to fly a plane and is hoping the FAA will raise the mandatory retirement age so he can return to work.
Bernie Kalkbrenner, 51, a funeral director from Duluth, Minn., is here to celebrate life after smoking and to raise money for the American Lung Association. Kalkbrenner, whose father died of lung cancer, quit cold turkey at age 45. "I was about to be my own customer," he says.
While some cyclists have been planning this trek for months, even years, for others it was a spur of the moment decision. Julie di Furia of Seattle, a data processor for Nordstrom department stores, got the idea seven weeks ago after a bad day at the office. "I came home and there was a flier about the trip," she says. "Three weeks ago I bought my bike. Two weeks ago I quit my job. A week ago I put my stuff in storage and here I am."
As for training, di Furia said she cycled twice, for a total of 70 miles, and took seven aerobics classes at her local gym. "I signed up for 10, but I lost my card."
Di Furia believes it's all part of a "turning 30 thing." To celebrate her birthday she tried sky diving, jumping out of a plane at 12,000 feet. "I'm sick of saying, 'I should have done, I should have done. Now I want to do.'"
For some people, cycling is the toughest part of the trip. For Halcycon Mandlestam, 29, a physical therapist from London, the biggest challenge is riding on the right side of the road instead of the left. "At road junctions, where there are no traffic lights, I'm just trying to work out who has the right of way," she says.
Barry Teats of Orange, Calif., isn't sure why he's even here, other than the fact that his wife dragged him along. "We were supposed to be going for two weeks of golfing at Hilton Head," he says.
[to be continued]