Zero to Hundo is a personal account of preparing for my first-ever bike race: An unsupported 100-mile gravel race in southeastern Minnesota called the Almanzo 100. In regular posts, I’ll write about everything from the bike I’m riding, to the people I’m riding with, to the training I’m putting in to get ready. The race is scheduled for Saturday, May 17, 2014, and I’ll post about two updates per week between now and then. For a little more background on how I got myself into this mess, read this post. – Charles K. Youel
There’s a scene at the end of “The Return of The King” — the third installment of Peter Jackson’s Lord of The Rings trilogy — where, on the steeps of an erupting Mount Doom, surrounded by rising lava flows and facing certain death, Frodo turns to his companion, Sam, and says “I am glad to be with you, Samwise Gamgee. Here at the end of all things.” Shortly after that, they’re rescued by Gandalf and three giant eagles. When I think about the Almanzo 100, this pretty much nails the way I expect things to turn out.
Historically, great adventures are rarely undertaken as solitary quests. Friends and companions take turns spurring each other on, taking the lead and keeping the team together. Shakespeare’s famous line, “We few, we happy few, we band of brothers,” echoes throughout literature and pop culture alike. Frodo has Sam. Don Quixote has Sancho Panza. Sherlock Holmes has Dr. Watson. Bonnie has Clyde. Jake has Elwood. Thelma has Louise. Run has DMC. And Luke Skywalker has Han Solo and Chewbacca. For the purposes of the adventure that is the Almanzo 100, Adam Turman and Ben McCoy are Luke and Han, and I’m Chewbacca. (I’m going to let them — nay, encourage them — to fight over who gets to be who.) Now, let’s move along before I paint myself any deeper into a corner with this analogy.
Adam Turman was one of the first artists I recruited for our inaugural show in Minneapolis, back in 2007. He’s become a fixture and a fan favorite, holding a record for poster sales that’s not likely to be broken or even approached. A couple years later, he introduced me to his fellow University of Minnesota design school alum, Ben McCoy. Ben runs an agency called Bicycle Theory and, as the name suggests, is as nuts about bikes as anyone you’ll ever meet. Both Ben and Adam did posters for the Minneapolis show in 2011, and not too long after that we started going on weekend bike rides (Gents Rides) together, along with a rotating cast of friends old and new.
Gents Rides are an ongoing exercise in good-natured shit giving, mutual encouragement and random detours. Like the time we decided to take on half a dozen miles of sandy trails along the Minnesota River — in the middle of a 50-mile road bike ride. My ass hasn’t hit the ground that many times since I learned how to walk, but we were all smiles at the end. The standing rule is that we have to ride at least three different surfaces, a requirement that’s led to impromptu laps around suburban baseball fields on more than one occasion. The other standing rule is that there’s always a beer stop at the end. And occasionally in the middle.
Having a group of friends to ride bikes with is pretty standard stuff for most avid cyclists. But at the time I started riding with Adam and Ben, almost all of my biking was done alone, mostly in the form of going to and from my office. Better than nothing, but not the sort of riding that gets you in shape to ride a century, or inspires you to push boundaries and set off on adventures.
Over the years since the Gents Rides started up, I’ve allowed my travel schedule and workload with ARTCRANK to keep me away from actually riding a bike a lot more than I should. Last year in particular was a low point: Adam and Ben were excited to ride Almanzo for the first time, and did everything short of staging an intervention to talk me into it. ARTCRANK had 15 events in three countries slated for 2013, and I was working seven days a week to keep up with it. By the time we’d wrapped up our final 2013 show in San Francisco last December, I’d spent less time on a bike than any year of my adult life. As proud as I was about the growth of ARTCRANK, trying to keep up with it was keeping me off my bike — and away from my friends. Things needed to change.
In my first post for this series, I joked about the role that bourbon played in convincing me to ride Almanzo this year. And while it’s true that brown liquor was involved, the real credit goes to Adam and Ben. They didn’t really talk me into anything: They just gave me a chance to say yes to something I knew I wanted to do.
Last year, I decided not to ride Almanzo because I thought that I didn’t have time to train for it. And frankly, because I found the prospect of churning out 100 miles on hilly gravel roads more than a little intimidating. But looking back at the way 2013 played out, my problem wasn’t that I lacked the time to train and prepare. I just didn’t choose to use my time that way.
Truth be told, I’m still daunted by the challenge this race presents. And by all reports, I’d be a fool to take it lightly. But having friends to count on — and to be accountable to — makes a world of difference.
In the first Star Wars movie, wise old Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi drops this Zen koan on Han Solo: “Who’s the more foolish: The fool, or the fool who follows him?” Between now and mid-May, perhaps we’ll have ourselves an answer.
– cky
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