Toss 'em a bone...

Work like a dog:
It's the dead of winter.  Jeff, triathlete, keeps up his winter training, but has now joined my weekend rides. Weekdays, I join him at "the butt crack of dawn", (my kids' expression, and although graphic, makes me laugh and laugh), and add Tracy's riding schedule to my regular workouts.
Dog tired:
By age, by worry, by the way - neither of us is sleeping many hours, and the ones we do either classify as "passed out" or "restless."  We both walk around in a delusion that we thought we were fit people, but then why are we sore? I have a permanent case of "booty lock" (thanks Peg), in my left cheek, (not the smiling one).
Give the dog a bone:
When all starts seeming grim, and perhaps pointless, CR tosses us the bone: duffel bags, and ride shirts.
So, it IS worth it, we ARE doing this, and let's go to bed NOW...it's an early ride day tomorrow.

Take It To The Streets

At long last, the bike is right side up, seats on, tuned up, and we can bike outdoors.  There are many things that are wonderful about riding in the Granite State.

On a spring ride, you might be riding under the warm sun rays, and then get a chill blast down the hill and mountain slopes of snow and ice still gripping and melting.  (There is also heaps of sand, everywhere.)  In summer, the weather is hot with bluebird skies., and the sand is back where it belongs - on the beach.  (There's also the masses of visiting motorists "sharing" the road,  the motorcyclists who look at us with a mix of pity and humor, and if one has to stop - the mosquitoes and deer flies that will bite.)  In the winter, well, I have only one crazy sister in law who bikes in the winter - yes you, dear.
But the best time of year to ride is the fall.  The colors are magnificent, the temperature is perfect, and the roads are quiet.

Bottom line, it's really good to get outdoors.
After four months of going nowhere on the trainer, it's great to get out there, and realize, as you ride that third climb effortlessly, that it was all worth it.  Let's hope the pay off shows in a couple of weeks as well.

Bummer

Delicate subject, this.  In the beginning of heavy training, it's bound to occur.
After that first century, the next morning, my friend Kris swaggered out with, "Don't worry...
once the wounds open up again, you'll be fine." (He was right.)
My friend Ed suggests that, "A sore bum can kill a ride." (Should I tell him that's not all it kills.)

And my friend Tracy tells us to slather up - early, and often.
Delicate, delicate subject.

It's Hard to Start A Train

Together

The first century we ever rode was from Sunday River, Maine to Stowe, Vermont. Including the little bit when we lost our way, and our SAG group, it totaled 126 miles. Unexpected, unprepared, but arrived in time for cocktails. We have had our fair share of notches, gaps, and "Kancs", (for NH folk).
                   We value the importance of training.
                                    January 1st.

Tracy lays out a thorough and well articulated training program. It gets tricky when living in the frozen tundra , but train we did.

Indoors.      Together.      Alone.

Alone

Wearing multiple layers.
Heat set at 75.
I've come to hear Coach Troy in my head, and it's an "easy day" when you pedal and watch two full feature films, back to back, including previews and credits.

Replace popcorn with Honey Stingers, and you're good to go.

Ho Ho - oh.

Christmas comes, and under the tree are fun little toys and trinkets...nope.  Once you hit "Submit", Cross Roads releases their first set of "informational blasts" to help you begin the preparation process.  The thing I latch onto immediately is the "Packing List".  So, in the stockings and wrapped under the tree are all sorts of "stuff" that we need, we need to upgrade, or don't know what it's for - but now own.  There are neon yellow jackets, bike shorts that actually having padding, gels and bars, head wraps, and arm coolers, socks, travel size deodorant, lotions and potions, and, and, and...the list goes on.  We're ready!  We're set!  We're good to go!
Except...

We still have to start training.  Submit.

Surprise, surprise, surprise...

Submit. Sigh. What have I done?
One of the best parts of this adventure has already occurred.  Jeff and I have been together since we were seventeen.  He's the one, who for all these years, starts a sentence with, "Hey, you know what would be fun?"  My response is usually, "No." Really - no.  These are usually events that could produce thrills, adventure, panic, and sometimes, well...  (For those of you who know, two words: Yukon Territory.)  The man then takes me kicking and screaming, quite literally, into these ventures...that I end up loving.

Like in the desert two years ago, when, noonish at the end of a ride, a valley called him...and since I'm clipped in, we both coasted down for twenty minutes, with little water left in our bottles.  I'll spare the details, but we did climb out, find water, and headwinds. (Photo)

He has the utmost faith in me, and I trust him blindly.  We're a pair.

For the first time in our lives, though, I got to be the one who asked, "Hey, you know what'd be fun?"  And then I told him.  And then I got to see his smile.  To date - the best part of this ride.

Nitty Gritty

While standing in the pet food aisle at our local grocers, I come across Peter.  We start chatting; he was on his way to bike across the entire country.  On his bike. With a group.  I was in awe at the enormity of that task.  Jeff and I had just started tandem biking. (Let's get this over with - I'm not any good at biking on my own, he's bigger and stronger, and we needed some form of cheap date that would give us a break from our four *wonderful* children.)

I ran across Peter again a few years later, same store, different aisle, and he's doing that trip again. Same group.  I vaguely remember the name, but it's clear once I start the research which it is:

http://www.crossroadscycling.com/.  Check out the website.  

It's smart, compact, and inviting.  Do not be fooled...it's like the Rabbit Hole.  Once you enter Wonderland, you too will be invited, amazed and enchanted, and just a little bit terrified.  (Author's Note:  These are all my thoughts, alone.  Jeff is a quiet, sane, private guy...he's so thrilled to be married to me.)  Lastly, Peter passed away a while ago.  Tracy was actually the one who told me.  They were "family".  We've promised more of his local family to have him "with us" on our ride. Will do.

In the beginning

It's right after Thanksgiving, but before Christmas. I'm not quite certain how the decision was made. But like many of my decisions, it was made at two in the morning...when sleep was no where to be found. The next morning I set off to find the right cross country cycle trip. As it turns out, there are many from which to choose. Like Goldilocks I found one that was - just right. I entered he world of Tracy and her Cross Roads cycling tours, filled out the forms, entered the credit card number, and hit - submit. That one little word sent us on an adventure, and me in a tail spin.
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