Tommaso Nation

You would probably find Floyd Landis in a Radio Shack Team kit before you would find me participating in a community wide, 22-mile (free-for-all) path ride…but there I was elbows out praying for safe passage like Michael Rasmussen trying to descend during a 2005 Tour de France time trial (I’ll take obscure TdF references for $200 Alex…). The bottom line was the kids wanted to ride and I was going to make sure they did. It’s not every day that you can get teenagers away from video games and I was not going to miss this opportunity. Red Dead Redemption be damned! We were riding!

That morning I left for a quick primer of 50 miles with Turbo-Mom and we told the kids to drink plenty of water and be ready at 2:30 to ride. As we were leaving out the door I noticed the boy eating two big burritos…It was then I decided I would be pulling the whole way. We finished our training ride and took a quick nap while the junior cycling squad got ready to roll. I took quick inventory before we left. Water, sunscreen, helmets, patience and I took some gels just in case.

Of course I only had my team gear to wear (I did tone it down with black bibs). Paul Sherwin would have commented that I looked “resplendent in my team strip” but in the crowd of YMCA t-shirts, cargo shorts and baseball hats under first generation Bell helmets I stood out like the Pope at a Slayer concert. Even though certain portions of the route would not be paved I still rolled out on the Tommaso Volo…If I could race the Boulder Roubaix on my carbon Tommaso dream machine I think I could handle some gravel paths and 50 soccer moms…

The team (family unit) and I quickly fell into formation and headed out into the sea of T-shirt, tetanus threatening drivetrains and…well…bad bike handling. At 10 mph there is going to be some weaving. Throw in some children, hot sun and poor course marking and it all goes right into the Port-o-Let.

Right from the start we were having fun. There was laughing and zero shaved leg, “don’t ding my $8,000 bike” aggression. Dads were sitting way too low on their bikes and Mom’s were busy telling little Jimmy to stop cutting off the other riders. It was a Cat 1 racer’s nightmare…I thought it was hysterical! Where else would I find myself being pulled by a girl in a swimsuit on a cruiser and a guy on a mountain bike wearing a cowboy hat smelling like some summer ale? Not at the local ACA event that’s for sure.

As the miles wore on we laughed and surged through the carnival pack and came to a rest stop. It was time for the teenage girl to have an energy gel to get her through the next hour…she balked. She did not want to eat the gel. It was like Joe Regan trying to get some Fear Factor contestant to eat a live centipede. Amazing…the kid can eat popcorn, orange juice and 4 scoops of ice cream drowning in chocolate sauce (in one sitting) and you can’t get her to eat something that tastes like 1.1 ounce of vanilla pudding. With some encouragement from the group and a switch to chocolate she survived…barely.

Full of renewed energy and rest we were heading towards home. We counted off the last remaining miles out loud and hit our street at exactly 22 miles! We had survived the baby strollers, weavers, criers, drunkards and the course. Most importantly the kids finished their longest ride ever in one piece. Their Mom and I shared a quick glimpse of joy as we parked the bikes in the garage.