54th Birthday Ride

[Olebiker]

Maggie's recent musing on her age made me appreciate my ride yesterday,
my 54th birthday.

It was my turn to lead my club's Sunday morning ride from Miccosukee,
FL to Thomasville, GA. I went out at 5:30 a.m. to get the paper. The
wind was blowing from the northwest at about 20 miles per hour. The
temperature was in the 50s which, coupled with the wind, high humidity,
overcast skies and my Deep South abhorrence of anything below room
temperature made for a pretty bleak morning. Frankly, if I hadn't been
the ride leader, I would have crawled back into bed and would have
gotten up only long enough to feed our consistently ravenous cat.

Much to my surprise, we had a pretty good turnout at the ride,
including several fairly new folks that I hadn't ridden with before.
One good thing about being the ride leader is that there is no pressure
for me to keep up with my younger friends who view the ride as an
opportunity to compare testosterone levels. They don't need anyone
riding herd over them anyway, so I wish them well as I send them on
their way. I then wrangled my group of about eight riders into a
loosely cohesive group, and set off at a "gentleman's C pace" of around
15 mph.

The last time I led this ride was in February. I was about twenty-five
pounds heavier and suffered a bit on the hills. (Yes, Virginia, there
are some hills in North Florida and South Georgia.) This time,
however, the relaxed pace and warm conversation with friends, old and
new, made the miles pass with little thought to the hills that had
caused my quads to burn last Winter.

Thomasville, GA is a charming, genteel town and the Plaza Restaurant is
the perfect place to stop for a late breakfast in the middle of a ride.
The customers are a mixed group of motorcyclists in their leathers, a
family either on their way to or from church, a group of runners
rewarding themselves for their Sabbath morning miles, and various
ladies with hair as stiff as football helmets that are surely members
of the Sunday School Board at the local First Baptist Church. No one
seems to pay any attention to our group of sweaty bicyclists clicking
across the floor in our cleats.

It's fascinating to me how having something in common like riding
provides a catalyst for a group such as ours to sit down and share our
stories. Richard, who is going to retire this week, told us of his
plans to sell off most of his worldly possessions and move to New
Mexico. Jonathon, a big bridge engineer, shared stories of designing
and testing cable span bridges. The young Asian woman who works making
gunpowder and whose name I did not catch talked of how her parents in
Pensacola still did not have electricity due to damage done by a
hurricane more than a month ago.

The ride back to Miccosukee includes a couple of hills that typically
cause my heart rate monitor to begin alarming, warning me that I am
about to blow a gasket. One of the hills, Cromartie Hill, is within a
quarter mile of the end of the ride. It doesn't look like much as you
approach it, but it always causes me some considerable pain and heavy
panting. Always until yesterday, that is. My recent weight loss
allowed me to ride up that demon hill with plenty of energy still in
hand.

As we gathered in the school parking lot at the end of the ride and
thanked each other for the companionship and encouragement, it occurred
to me that my maternal grandfather did not live to see his 54th
birthday. At 54 my own father was already an old man, beaten down by a
spirit-draining job. Here I was, on my 54th birthday, in good health,
with a job that leaves me with enough energy to get out and ride with
good people whose company I enjoy, going home to a beloved wife who has
put up with my foolishness for nearly 34 years. I have to tell you, I
have never been happier in my life.

Dick Durbin

[dgk]

On 15 Nov 2004 11:04:49 -0800, "Olebiker" > wrote:

>Maggie's recent musing on her age made me appreciate my ride yesterday,
>my 54th birthday.
>
>It was my turn to lead my club's Sunday morning ride from Miccosukee,
>FL to Thomasville, GA. I went out at 5:30 a.m. to get the paper. The
>wind was blowing from the northwest at about 20 miles per hour. The
>temperature was in the 50s which, coupled with the wind, high humidity,
>overcast skies and my Deep South abhorrence of anything below room
>temperature made for a pretty bleak morning. Frankly, if I hadn't been
>the ride leader, I would have crawled back into bed and would have
>gotten up only long enough to feed our consistently ravenous cat.
>
>Much to my surprise, we had a pretty good turnout at the ride,
>including several fairly new folks that I hadn't ridden with before.
>One good thing about being the ride leader is that there is no pressure
>for me to keep up with my younger friends who view the ride as an
>opportunity to compare testosterone levels. They don't need anyone
>riding herd over them anyway, so I wish them well as I send them on
>their way. I then wrangled my group of about eight riders into a
>loosely cohesive group, and set off at a "gentleman's C pace" of around
>15 mph.
>
>The last time I led this ride was in February. I was about twenty-five
>pounds heavier and suffered a bit on the hills. (Yes, Virginia, there
>are some hills in North Florida and South Georgia.) This time,
>however, the relaxed pace and warm conversation with friends, old and
>new, made the miles pass with little thought to the hills that had
>caused my quads to burn last Winter.
>
>Thomasville, GA is a charming, genteel town and the Plaza Restaurant is
>the perfect place to stop for a late breakfast in the middle of a ride.
>The customers are a mixed group of motorcyclists in their leathers, a
>family either on their way to or from church, a group of runners
>rewarding themselves for their Sabbath morning miles, and various
>ladies with hair as stiff as football helmets that are surely members
>of the Sunday School Board at the local First Baptist Church. No one
>seems to pay any attention to our group of sweaty bicyclists clicking
>across the floor in our cleats.
>
>It's fascinating to me how having something in common like riding
>provides a catalyst for a group such as ours to sit down and share our
>stories. Richard, who is going to retire this week, told us of his
>plans to sell off most of his worldly possessions and move to New
>Mexico. Jonathon, a big bridge engineer, shared stories of designing
>and testing cable span bridges. The young Asian woman who works making
>gunpowder and whose name I did not catch talked of how her parents in
>Pensacola still did not have electricity due to damage done by a
>hurricane more than a month ago.
>
>The ride back to Miccosukee includes a couple of hills that typically
>cause my heart rate monitor to begin alarming, warning me that I am
>about to blow a gasket. One of the hills, Cromartie Hill, is within a
>quarter mile of the end of the ride. It doesn't look like much as you
>approach it, but it always causes me some considerable pain and heavy
>panting. Always until yesterday, that is. My recent weight loss
>allowed me to ride up that demon hill with plenty of energy still in
>hand.
>
>As we gathered in the school parking lot at the end of the ride and
>thanked each other for the companionship and encouragement, it occurred
>to me that my maternal grandfather did not live to see his 54th
>birthday. At 54 my own father was already an old man, beaten down by a
>spirit-draining job. Here I was, on my 54th birthday, in good health,
>with a job that leaves me with enough energy to get out and ride with
>good people whose company I enjoy, going home to a beloved wife who has
>put up with my foolishness for nearly 34 years. I have to tell you, I
>have never been happier in my life.
>
>Dick Durbin

Sorry I missed the ride, but I am a few thousand miles away. But
thanks for taking the time to let us know about how it went. At 51 I
just can't seem to think of myself as even middleage, and this group
gives me hope that I can keep myself active and enjoying life for
decades to come. Happy Birthday.

[dgk]

On 15 Nov 2004 11:04:49 -0800, "Olebiker" > wrote:

>Maggie's recent musing on her age made me appreciate my ride yesterday,
>my 54th birthday.
>
>It was my turn to lead my club's Sunday morning ride from Miccosukee,
>FL to Thomasville, GA. I went out at 5:30 a.m. to get the paper. The
>wind was blowing from the northwest at about 20 miles per hour. The
>temperature was in the 50s which, coupled with the wind, high humidity,
>overcast skies and my Deep South abhorrence of anything below room
>temperature made for a pretty bleak morning. Frankly, if I hadn't been
>the ride leader, I would have crawled back into bed and would have
>gotten up only long enough to feed our consistently ravenous cat.
>
>Much to my surprise, we had a pretty good turnout at the ride,
>including several fairly new folks that I hadn't ridden with before.
>One good thing about being the ride leader is that there is no pressure
>for me to keep up with my younger friends who view the ride as an
>opportunity to compare testosterone levels. They don't need anyone
>riding herd over them anyway, so I wish them well as I send them on
>their way. I then wrangled my group of about eight riders into a
>loosely cohesive group, and set off at a "gentleman's C pace" of around
>15 mph.
>
>The last time I led this ride was in February. I was about twenty-five
>pounds heavier and suffered a bit on the hills. (Yes, Virginia, there
>are some hills in North Florida and South Georgia.) This time,
>however, the relaxed pace and warm conversation with friends, old and
>new, made the miles pass with little thought to the hills that had
>caused my quads to burn last Winter.
>
>Thomasville, GA is a charming, genteel town and the Plaza Restaurant is
>the perfect place to stop for a late breakfast in the middle of a ride.
>The customers are a mixed group of motorcyclists in their leathers, a
>family either on their way to or from church, a group of runners
>rewarding themselves for their Sabbath morning miles, and various
>ladies with hair as stiff as football helmets that are surely members
>of the Sunday School Board at the local First Baptist Church. No one
>seems to pay any attention to our group of sweaty bicyclists clicking
>across the floor in our cleats.
>
>It's fascinating to me how having something in common like riding
>provides a catalyst for a group such as ours to sit down and share our
>stories. Richard, who is going to retire this week, told us of his
>plans to sell off most of his worldly possessions and move to New
>Mexico. Jonathon, a big bridge engineer, shared stories of designing
>and testing cable span bridges. The young Asian woman who works making
>gunpowder and whose name I did not catch talked of how her parents in
>Pensacola still did not have electricity due to damage done by a
>hurricane more than a month ago.
>
>The ride back to Miccosukee includes a couple of hills that typically
>cause my heart rate monitor to begin alarming, warning me that I am
>about to blow a gasket. One of the hills, Cromartie Hill, is within a
>quarter mile of the end of the ride. It doesn't look like much as you
>approach it, but it always causes me some considerable pain and heavy
>panting. Always until yesterday, that is. My recent weight loss
>allowed me to ride up that demon hill with plenty of energy still in
>hand.
>
>As we gathered in the school parking lot at the end of the ride and
>thanked each other for the companionship and encouragement, it occurred
>to me that my maternal grandfather did not live to see his 54th
>birthday. At 54 my own father was already an old man, beaten down by a
>spirit-draining job. Here I was, on my 54th birthday, in good health,
>with a job that leaves me with enough energy to get out and ride with
>good people whose company I enjoy, going home to a beloved wife who has
>put up with my foolishness for nearly 34 years. I have to tell you, I
>have never been happier in my life.
>
>Dick Durbin

Sorry I missed the ride, but I am a few thousand miles away. But
thanks for taking the time to let us know about how it went. At 51 I
just can't seem to think of myself as even middleage, and this group
gives me hope that I can keep myself active and enjoying life for
decades to come. Happy Birthday.

[joel roth]

Congrats. My 50th b-day ride is about 2 weeks away.

Joel

Olebiker wrote:

>Maggie's recent musing on her age made me appreciate my ride yesterday,
>my 54th birthday.
>
>It was my turn to lead my club's Sunday morning ride from Miccosukee,
>FL to Thomasville, GA. I went out at 5:30 a.m. to get the paper. The
>wind was blowing from the northwest at about 20 miles per hour. The
>temperature was in the 50s which, coupled with the wind, high humidity,
>overcast skies and my Deep South abhorrence of anything below room
>temperature made for a pretty bleak morning. Frankly, if I hadn't been
>the ride leader, I would have crawled back into bed and would have
>gotten up only long enough to feed our consistently ravenous cat.
>
>Much to my surprise, we had a pretty good turnout at the ride,
>including several fairly new folks that I hadn't ridden with before.
>One good thing about being the ride leader is that there is no pressure
>for me to keep up with my younger friends who view the ride as an
>opportunity to compare testosterone levels. They don't need anyone
>riding herd over them anyway, so I wish them well as I send them on
>their way. I then wrangled my group of about eight riders into a
>loosely cohesive group, and set off at a "gentleman's C pace" of around
>15 mph.
>
>The last time I led this ride was in February. I was about twenty-five
>pounds heavier and suffered a bit on the hills. (Yes, Virginia, there
>are some hills in North Florida and South Georgia.) This time,
>however, the relaxed pace and warm conversation with friends, old and
>new, made the miles pass with little thought to the hills that had
>caused my quads to burn last Winter.
>
>Thomasville, GA is a charming, genteel town and the Plaza Restaurant is
>the perfect place to stop for a late breakfast in the middle of a ride.
>The customers are a mixed group of motorcyclists in their leathers, a
>family either on their way to or from church, a group of runners
>rewarding themselves for their Sabbath morning miles, and various
>ladies with hair as stiff as football helmets that are surely members
>of the Sunday School Board at the local First Baptist Church. No one
>seems to pay any attention to our group of sweaty bicyclists clicking
>across the floor in our cleats.
>
>It's fascinating to me how having something in common like riding
>provides a catalyst for a group such as ours to sit down and share our
>stories. Richard, who is going to retire this week, told us of his
>plans to sell off most of his worldly possessions and move to New
>Mexico. Jonathon, a big bridge engineer, shared stories of designing
>and testing cable span bridges. The young Asian woman who works making
>gunpowder and whose name I did not catch talked of how her parents in
>Pensacola still did not have electricity due to damage done by a
>hurricane more than a month ago.
>
>The ride back to Miccosukee includes a couple of hills that typically
>cause my heart rate monitor to begin alarming, warning me that I am
>about to blow a gasket. One of the hills, Cromartie Hill, is within a
>quarter mile of the end of the ride. It doesn't look like much as you
>approach it, but it always causes me some considerable pain and heavy
>panting. Always until yesterday, that is. My recent weight loss
>allowed me to ride up that demon hill with plenty of energy still in
>hand.
>
>As we gathered in the school parking lot at the end of the ride and
>thanked each other for the companionship and encouragement, it occurred
>to me that my maternal grandfather did not live to see his 54th
>birthday. At 54 my own father was already an old man, beaten down by a
>spirit-draining job. Here I was, on my 54th birthday, in good health,
>with a job that leaves me with enough energy to get out and ride with
>good people whose company I enjoy, going home to a beloved wife who has
>put up with my foolishness for nearly 34 years. I have to tell you, I
>have never been happier in my life.
>
>Dick Durbin
>
>
>

[joel roth]

Congrats. My 50th b-day ride is about 2 weeks away.

Joel

Olebiker wrote:

>Maggie's recent musing on her age made me appreciate my ride yesterday,
>my 54th birthday.
>
>It was my turn to lead my club's Sunday morning ride from Miccosukee,
>FL to Thomasville, GA. I went out at 5:30 a.m. to get the paper. The
>wind was blowing from the northwest at about 20 miles per hour. The
>temperature was in the 50s which, coupled with the wind, high humidity,
>overcast skies and my Deep South abhorrence of anything below room
>temperature made for a pretty bleak morning. Frankly, if I hadn't been
>the ride leader, I would have crawled back into bed and would have
>gotten up only long enough to feed our consistently ravenous cat.
>
>Much to my surprise, we had a pretty good turnout at the ride,
>including several fairly new folks that I hadn't ridden with before.
>One good thing about being the ride leader is that there is no pressure
>for me to keep up with my younger friends who view the ride as an
>opportunity to compare testosterone levels. They don't need anyone
>riding herd over them anyway, so I wish them well as I send them on
>their way. I then wrangled my group of about eight riders into a
>loosely cohesive group, and set off at a "gentleman's C pace" of around
>15 mph.
>
>The last time I led this ride was in February. I was about twenty-five
>pounds heavier and suffered a bit on the hills. (Yes, Virginia, there
>are some hills in North Florida and South Georgia.) This time,
>however, the relaxed pace and warm conversation with friends, old and
>new, made the miles pass with little thought to the hills that had
>caused my quads to burn last Winter.
>
>Thomasville, GA is a charming, genteel town and the Plaza Restaurant is
>the perfect place to stop for a late breakfast in the middle of a ride.
>The customers are a mixed group of motorcyclists in their leathers, a
>family either on their way to or from church, a group of runners
>rewarding themselves for their Sabbath morning miles, and various
>ladies with hair as stiff as football helmets that are surely members
>of the Sunday School Board at the local First Baptist Church. No one
>seems to pay any attention to our group of sweaty bicyclists clicking
>across the floor in our cleats.
>
>It's fascinating to me how having something in common like riding
>provides a catalyst for a group such as ours to sit down and share our
>stories. Richard, who is going to retire this week, told us of his
>plans to sell off most of his worldly possessions and move to New
>Mexico. Jonathon, a big bridge engineer, shared stories of designing
>and testing cable span bridges. The young Asian woman who works making
>gunpowder and whose name I did not catch talked of how her parents in
>Pensacola still did not have electricity due to damage done by a
>hurricane more than a month ago.
>
>The ride back to Miccosukee includes a couple of hills that typically
>cause my heart rate monitor to begin alarming, warning me that I am
>about to blow a gasket. One of the hills, Cromartie Hill, is within a
>quarter mile of the end of the ride. It doesn't look like much as you
>approach it, but it always causes me some considerable pain and heavy
>panting. Always until yesterday, that is. My recent weight loss
>allowed me to ride up that demon hill with plenty of energy still in
>hand.
>
>As we gathered in the school parking lot at the end of the ride and
>thanked each other for the companionship and encouragement, it occurred
>to me that my maternal grandfather did not live to see his 54th
>birthday. At 54 my own father was already an old man, beaten down by a
>spirit-draining job. Here I was, on my 54th birthday, in good health,
>with a job that leaves me with enough energy to get out and ride with
>good people whose company I enjoy, going home to a beloved wife who has
>put up with my foolishness for nearly 34 years. I have to tell you, I
>have never been happier in my life.
>
>Dick Durbin
>
>
>

[Terry Morse]

"Olebiker" wrote:

> Maggie's recent musing on her age made me appreciate my ride yesterday,
> my 54th birthday.

Nice ride report. I had a good birthday ride a couple of weeks ago,
at the Bakersfield Spooktacular Century, just riding with a couple
of friends. It was also the day I rolled over my 200-vertical-mile
goal. When I hit the target vertical on my computer, my friends gave
me a surprise birthday celebration -- right on the side of the road.
They had a cake, a card, a gift (a multi-tool), and a Certificate of
Achievement, all stuffed in their jersey pockets:

http://bike.terrymorse.com/spooktacular041030/pages/IMG_0850a.html

It was one of the best birthdays in recent memory.

--
terry morse Palo Alto, CA http://bike.terrymorse.com/

[Terry Morse]

"Olebiker" wrote:

> Maggie's recent musing on her age made me appreciate my ride yesterday,
> my 54th birthday.

Nice ride report. I had a good birthday ride a couple of weeks ago,
at the Bakersfield Spooktacular Century, just riding with a couple
of friends. It was also the day I rolled over my 200-vertical-mile
goal. When I hit the target vertical on my computer, my friends gave
me a surprise birthday celebration -- right on the side of the road.
They had a cake, a card, a gift (a multi-tool), and a Certificate of
Achievement, all stuffed in their jersey pockets:

http://bike.terrymorse.com/spooktacular041030/pages/IMG_0850a.html

It was one of the best birthdays in recent memory.

--
terry morse Palo Alto, CA http://bike.terrymorse.com/

[Roy Zipris]

Happy birthday, Dick. Sounds like a wonderful day. Many more
birthdays, many more good rides. --Roy Zipris

[Roy Zipris]

Happy birthday, Dick. Sounds like a wonderful day. Many more
birthdays, many more good rides. --Roy Zipris

[pete salomone]

Happy Birthday Dick,

great ride report.

[pete salomone]

Happy Birthday Dick,

great ride report.

[Steph]

"Olebiker" > wrote in message
oups.com...
> Maggie's recent musing on her age made me appreciate my ride yesterday,
> my 54th birthday.
>
Bravo!

My in-laws grew up in Thomasville. I'll have to tell them you described the
town as genteel...they may giggle at that.

[Steph]

"Olebiker" > wrote in message
oups.com...
> Maggie's recent musing on her age made me appreciate my ride yesterday,
> my 54th birthday.
>
Bravo!

My in-laws grew up in Thomasville. I'll have to tell them you described the
town as genteel...they may giggle at that.

[Maggie]

"Olebiker" > wrote in message . com>...
> Maggie's recent musing on her age made me appreciate my ride yesterday,
> my 54th birthday.
>
> As we gathered in the school parking lot at the end of the ride and
> thanked each other for the companionship and encouragement, it occurred
> to me that my maternal grandfather did not live to see his 54th
> birthday. At 54 my own father was already an old man, beaten down by a
> spirit-draining job. Here I was, on my 54th birthday, in good health,
> with a job that leaves me with enough energy to get out and ride with
> good people whose company I enjoy, going home to a beloved wife who has
> put up with my foolishness for nearly 34 years. I have to tell you, I
> have never been happier in my life.
>
> Dick Durbin

That was inspirational. You are a very lucky man. May I wish you a
very Happy Birthday. May all your future years hold just as much joy,
happiness, health and love. That was a wonderful 54th birthday. It
also gives me food for thought.

Maggie Mae.

;-)

http://www.geocities.com/lindaannbuset/mypage.html
http://hometown.aol.com/lbuset/

[Maggie]

"Olebiker" > wrote in message . com>...
> Maggie's recent musing on her age made me appreciate my ride yesterday,
> my 54th birthday.
>
> As we gathered in the school parking lot at the end of the ride and
> thanked each other for the companionship and encouragement, it occurred
> to me that my maternal grandfather did not live to see his 54th
> birthday. At 54 my own father was already an old man, beaten down by a
> spirit-draining job. Here I was, on my 54th birthday, in good health,
> with a job that leaves me with enough energy to get out and ride with
> good people whose company I enjoy, going home to a beloved wife who has
> put up with my foolishness for nearly 34 years. I have to tell you, I
> have never been happier in my life.
>
> Dick Durbin

That was inspirational. You are a very lucky man. May I wish you a
very Happy Birthday. May all your future years hold just as much joy,
happiness, health and love. That was a wonderful 54th birthday. It
also gives me food for thought.

Maggie Mae.

;-)

http://www.geocities.com/lindaannbuset/mypage.html
http://hometown.aol.com/lbuset/

[Beverly]

> On 15 Nov 2004 11:04:49 -0800, "Olebiker" > wrote:
>
> >Maggie's recent musing on her age made me appreciate my ride yesterday,
> >my 54th birthday.
> >
> >It was my turn to lead my club's Sunday morning ride from Miccosukee,
> >FL to Thomasville, GA. I went out at 5:30 a.m. to get the paper. The
> >wind was blowing from the northwest at about 20 miles per hour. The
> >temperature was in the 50s which, coupled with the wind, high humidity,
> >overcast skies and my Deep South abhorrence of anything below room
> >temperature made for a pretty bleak morning. Frankly, if I hadn't been
> >the ride leader, I would have crawled back into bed and would have
> >gotten up only long enough to feed our consistently ravenous cat.
> >
> >Much to my surprise, we had a pretty good turnout at the ride,
> >including several fairly new folks that I hadn't ridden with before.
> >One good thing about being the ride leader is that there is no pressure
> >for me to keep up with my younger friends who view the ride as an
> >opportunity to compare testosterone levels. They don't need anyone
> >riding herd over them anyway, so I wish them well as I send them on
> >their way. I then wrangled my group of about eight riders into a
> >loosely cohesive group, and set off at a "gentleman's C pace" of around
> >15 mph.
> >
> >The last time I led this ride was in February. I was about twenty-five
> >pounds heavier and suffered a bit on the hills. (Yes, Virginia, there
> >are some hills in North Florida and South Georgia.) This time,
> >however, the relaxed pace and warm conversation with friends, old and
> >new, made the miles pass with little thought to the hills that had
> >caused my quads to burn last Winter.
> >
> >Thomasville, GA is a charming, genteel town and the Plaza Restaurant is
> >the perfect place to stop for a late breakfast in the middle of a ride.
> >The customers are a mixed group of motorcyclists in their leathers, a
> >family either on their way to or from church, a group of runners
> >rewarding themselves for their Sabbath morning miles, and various
> >ladies with hair as stiff as football helmets that are surely members
> >of the Sunday School Board at the local First Baptist Church. No one
> >seems to pay any attention to our group of sweaty bicyclists clicking
> >across the floor in our cleats.
> >
> >It's fascinating to me how having something in common like riding
> >provides a catalyst for a group such as ours to sit down and share our
> >stories. Richard, who is going to retire this week, told us of his
> >plans to sell off most of his worldly possessions and move to New
> >Mexico. Jonathon, a big bridge engineer, shared stories of designing
> >and testing cable span bridges. The young Asian woman who works making
> >gunpowder and whose name I did not catch talked of how her parents in
> >Pensacola still did not have electricity due to damage done by a
> >hurricane more than a month ago.
> >
> >The ride back to Miccosukee includes a couple of hills that typically
> >cause my heart rate monitor to begin alarming, warning me that I am
> >about to blow a gasket. One of the hills, Cromartie Hill, is within a
> >quarter mile of the end of the ride. It doesn't look like much as you
> >approach it, but it always causes me some considerable pain and heavy
> >panting. Always until yesterday, that is. My recent weight loss
> >allowed me to ride up that demon hill with plenty of energy still in
> >hand.
> >
> >As we gathered in the school parking lot at the end of the ride and
> >thanked each other for the companionship and encouragement, it occurred
> >to me that my maternal grandfather did not live to see his 54th
> >birthday. At 54 my own father was already an old man, beaten down by a
> >spirit-draining job. Here I was, on my 54th birthday, in good health,
> >with a job that leaves me with enough energy to get out and ride with
> >good people whose company I enjoy, going home to a beloved wife who has
> >put up with my foolishness for nearly 34 years. I have to tell you, I
> >have never been happier in my life.
> >
> >Dick Durbin
>
Happy belated birthday! What a wonderful way to celebrate a birthday. I'll
have to keep this in mind for my 62nd coming up the first of the year. Of
course Ohio weather isn't quite as nice as yours :)

Beverly

[Beverly]

> On 15 Nov 2004 11:04:49 -0800, "Olebiker" > wrote:
>
> >Maggie's recent musing on her age made me appreciate my ride yesterday,
> >my 54th birthday.
> >
> >It was my turn to lead my club's Sunday morning ride from Miccosukee,
> >FL to Thomasville, GA. I went out at 5:30 a.m. to get the paper. The
> >wind was blowing from the northwest at about 20 miles per hour. The
> >temperature was in the 50s which, coupled with the wind, high humidity,
> >overcast skies and my Deep South abhorrence of anything below room
> >temperature made for a pretty bleak morning. Frankly, if I hadn't been
> >the ride leader, I would have crawled back into bed and would have
> >gotten up only long enough to feed our consistently ravenous cat.
> >
> >Much to my surprise, we had a pretty good turnout at the ride,
> >including several fairly new folks that I hadn't ridden with before.
> >One good thing about being the ride leader is that there is no pressure
> >for me to keep up with my younger friends who view the ride as an
> >opportunity to compare testosterone levels. They don't need anyone
> >riding herd over them anyway, so I wish them well as I send them on
> >their way. I then wrangled my group of about eight riders into a
> >loosely cohesive group, and set off at a "gentleman's C pace" of around
> >15 mph.
> >
> >The last time I led this ride was in February. I was about twenty-five
> >pounds heavier and suffered a bit on the hills. (Yes, Virginia, there
> >are some hills in North Florida and South Georgia.) This time,
> >however, the relaxed pace and warm conversation with friends, old and
> >new, made the miles pass with little thought to the hills that had
> >caused my quads to burn last Winter.
> >
> >Thomasville, GA is a charming, genteel town and the Plaza Restaurant is
> >the perfect place to stop for a late breakfast in the middle of a ride.
> >The customers are a mixed group of motorcyclists in their leathers, a
> >family either on their way to or from church, a group of runners
> >rewarding themselves for their Sabbath morning miles, and various
> >ladies with hair as stiff as football helmets that are surely members
> >of the Sunday School Board at the local First Baptist Church. No one
> >seems to pay any attention to our group of sweaty bicyclists clicking
> >across the floor in our cleats.
> >
> >It's fascinating to me how having something in common like riding
> >provides a catalyst for a group such as ours to sit down and share our
> >stories. Richard, who is going to retire this week, told us of his
> >plans to sell off most of his worldly possessions and move to New
> >Mexico. Jonathon, a big bridge engineer, shared stories of designing
> >and testing cable span bridges. The young Asian woman who works making
> >gunpowder and whose name I did not catch talked of how her parents in
> >Pensacola still did not have electricity due to damage done by a
> >hurricane more than a month ago.
> >
> >The ride back to Miccosukee includes a couple of hills that typically
> >cause my heart rate monitor to begin alarming, warning me that I am
> >about to blow a gasket. One of the hills, Cromartie Hill, is within a
> >quarter mile of the end of the ride. It doesn't look like much as you
> >approach it, but it always causes me some considerable pain and heavy
> >panting. Always until yesterday, that is. My recent weight loss
> >allowed me to ride up that demon hill with plenty of energy still in
> >hand.
> >
> >As we gathered in the school parking lot at the end of the ride and
> >thanked each other for the companionship and encouragement, it occurred
> >to me that my maternal grandfather did not live to see his 54th
> >birthday. At 54 my own father was already an old man, beaten down by a
> >spirit-draining job. Here I was, on my 54th birthday, in good health,
> >with a job that leaves me with enough energy to get out and ride with
> >good people whose company I enjoy, going home to a beloved wife who has
> >put up with my foolishness for nearly 34 years. I have to tell you, I
> >have never been happier in my life.
> >
> >Dick Durbin
>
Happy belated birthday! What a wonderful way to celebrate a birthday. I'll
have to keep this in mind for my 62nd coming up the first of the year. Of
course Ohio weather isn't quite as nice as yours :)

Beverly

[Beverly]

"Terry Morse" > wrote in message
...
> "Olebiker" wrote:
>
> > Maggie's recent musing on her age made me appreciate my ride yesterday,
> > my 54th birthday.
>
> Nice ride report. I had a good birthday ride a couple of weeks ago,
> at the Bakersfield Spooktacular Century, just riding with a couple
> of friends. It was also the day I rolled over my 200-vertical-mile
> goal. When I hit the target vertical on my computer, my friends gave
> me a surprise birthday celebration -- right on the side of the road.
> They had a cake, a card, a gift (a multi-tool), and a Certificate of
> Achievement, all stuffed in their jersey pockets:
>
> http://bike.terrymorse.com/spooktacular041030/pages/IMG_0850a.html
>
> It was one of the best birthdays in recent memory.
>
> --
> terry morse Palo Alto, CA http://bike.terrymorse.com/

Another Happy belated birthday. You certainly have some beautiful places to
ride.

Beverly

[Beverly]

"Terry Morse" > wrote in message
...
> "Olebiker" wrote:
>
> > Maggie's recent musing on her age made me appreciate my ride yesterday,
> > my 54th birthday.
>
> Nice ride report. I had a good birthday ride a couple of weeks ago,
> at the Bakersfield Spooktacular Century, just riding with a couple
> of friends. It was also the day I rolled over my 200-vertical-mile
> goal. When I hit the target vertical on my computer, my friends gave
> me a surprise birthday celebration -- right on the side of the road.
> They had a cake, a card, a gift (a multi-tool), and a Certificate of
> Achievement, all stuffed in their jersey pockets:
>
> http://bike.terrymorse.com/spooktacular041030/pages/IMG_0850a.html
>
> It was one of the best birthdays in recent memory.
>
> --
> terry morse Palo Alto, CA http://bike.terrymorse.com/

Another Happy belated birthday. You certainly have some beautiful places to
ride.

Beverly

[Olebiker]

Shh! Don't tell people. They will want to move here.

[Olebiker]

Shh! Don't tell people. They will want to move here.

[Beverly]

"Olebiker" > wrote in message
oups.com...
> Shh! Don't tell people. They will want to move here.
>
I live in Ca for a year and did some biking there. Of course I was only 1
year old and it was on my three wheeler<G>

Beverly

[Beverly]

"Olebiker" > wrote in message
oups.com...
> Shh! Don't tell people. They will want to move here.
>
I live in Ca for a year and did some biking there. Of course I was only 1
year old and it was on my three wheeler<G>

Beverly