It is last week, and I am talking to Mick on the phone, and I say "NO races or organized rides this weekend!!!" I am not flexible on this point, and tell him I will only come to Aspen if he promises this will be the case. And, just in case he doesn't get the point, I go through a recitation of all the events that have filled my summer weekends thus far: June 11: Marathon to Marathon. June 18 & 25: Ride the Rockies. July 9: Triple Bypass. July 16: Bike for the Cure. July 23: Mount Evans Hill Climb. With work and other life events, I have not even had time to blog ANY of these things yet, so I desperately need a weekend off. After all, starting in a couple of weeks, I have another tri-fecta of events coming up: the Aspen Summer Uphill race, Pikes Peak, and Hood to Coast. So it's key that I get some sleep-in opportunity this weekend. The compromise that Mick exacts from me is that we'll go to a party on Saturday evening given by a friend of his. In general, I'm not always so eager to go to these parties, mostly because I rarely know anyone there, and then there's the "I don't eat red meat" issue - which means that I may leave the party in search of a PB&J sandwich later. It seems a fair deal to me, and the bargain is struck.
I drive to Aspen on Friday, dreaming of nothing but sleeping in on Saturday morning. But I'm restless Friday night, and get up earlier than I'd like on Saturday to do the first - and shorter - of my two runs. Mick and I go to breakfast, and he tells me that we'll have a houseguest that night, a friend of his from Vail. Arn will be riding in, over Independence Pass, sometime in the afternoon. Mick says that he'll go out and meet Arn while I go for my longish run during the afternoon. Then Mick mentions, ever-so-casually, that Arn will be riding in a group ride that is headed by Tyler Hamilton.
Now, I don't think that much about this, since I've read about some of these rides, and figure that it will be a group of hundreds, and that Arn will just be one of the many hangers-on, and that Mick may get a glimpse of Tyler. But - truth be told - my interest is piqued a bit, since I'm a big fan of Tyler's, and often fantasize about seeing him on my rides up in Boulder. It might be cool if Mick gets a glimpse of him.
So, mid-afternoon, Mick heads out to ride up Independence Pass in search of Arn. About half an hour after Mick takes off, I head out for my run. I also head east of town - eventually climbing partway up Independence Pass - but this is not a copycat move. There is a great crushed gravel path that parallels the road for several miles, and then you get on the road for some serious climbing, and it's always cloudier and cooler in that direction - my favorite summer run up there.
I keep my eye out for Mick and Arn, and after what seems like a long time, I see a couple of bikes with numbers on them, and figure that I'm seeing some from the group ride. I really don't know anything about this other than that I'm looking for Mick and Arn, and yes, Tyler. But the East Aspen path meanders alongside the Roaring Fork, and at this time of year - with all the rain we've had - there is often thick foliage, and the view of the road is often completely obscured. I do not see Mick, but finally I see a procession of vehicles that are honking and people are hollering, and I catch the "Allez Tyler!" banners on the side of many of the vehicles, and then they are all gone. When I get directly back onto the road again, it's clear that the group ride - such as it was - is already gone. I figure that maybe I've "seen" Tyler Hamilton, and go about finishing my run.
When I get home (to Mick's place), an extra bike is parked outside, and I take this to be Arn's, but nobody is home. There is a yellow and green (clearly worn) Phonak bike cap sitting prominently on the kitchen table. I notice it, but am really more interested in the cold Gatorade in the fridge - I've just run almost 18 miles today at 8000' of altitude in summer weather - so quickly forget about the cap.
But then Mick and Arn burst into the place. Mick is jazzed! Did you see the hat Tyler gave me? he says, picking up the Phonak cap. To which I reply, "you MET Tyler?" Oh sure. He and Arn are now ever-so-cool. Then Mick recounts his story of meeting up with this group, and the things that Tyler said to him, and then proceeds to tell me, "I'm going to ride with them tomorrow - but don't worry - you can sleep in and go for a run."
It takes me all of a split second to gather the details. This group ride is sponsored by the Tyler Hamilton Foundation, and it is a round trip from Vail to Aspen (hence the overnight in Aspen) of back-to-back century days. The Saturday ride was unquestionably the tough day - over Tennessee and Independence Passes - but the Sunday ride is still a 100-miler, down valley from Aspen to Glenwood and then through the canyon and thus back to Vail. As I listen to the details, Mick says, "and you can still sign up to just do the Sunday ride - I'll just ride to Glenwood with the group and come back".
I'm looking at him in awe and longing - did I mention that I greatly admire Tyler, and really hope that he is clean from the drug scandal? And I squeak out, "but I did my running today", to which Mick replies, okay, do you want to do the ride, too?
That, in a much too long prologue, is how, this morning I rise at 6 a.m. - all ideas of sleeping in completely dashed from my feeble brain - and then just an hour later, walk into the Inn at Aspen just as Tyler Hamilton is walking back into the hotel from the parking lot, and Arn says, "Good morning Tyler, this is Judy, she's riding with us today." And the Toughest Cyclist in the World reaches out his hand to me and says, "nice to meet you. It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"
What's left to say? What an experience. This group is small and intimate. About 20 or 25 riders in all, and only 4 women. Tyler is friendly, real, unassuming, looks you straight in the eye and you know he's just a good guy. We have breakfast in the Inn, and we joke with Tyler about how nice it might be to just sit around and drink coffee all day. But then somebody says it's time to get going, and we go.
We ride as a group, at first down Highway 82, but as soon as we can, we get off the thoroughfare and ride the backroads that Mick and I so often ride between Aspen and Glenwood. At first, I'm extremely nervous, and hang back a bit, but not so much as to bring up the rear. I find myself in the middle of a pack unlike anything I've ridden in before. To be sure, I've been in pacelines in Ride the Rockies, and ridden with other folks before, but never anything like this - tight, truly like a peloton, many people across. It takes me a while to get comfortable, and even then, I'm all eyes and ears, not wanting to do anything stupid.
Somehow, after we turn off into Woody Creek Canyon, I move myself up in the pack and now I'm riding right behind Tyler. I mean: RIGHT BEHIND him!!! If I lose concentration for a second, my front wheel will hit his rear wheel. I'm in awe, and in a daze. Thank God that I've ridden this route a hundred times before, so I know the curves and bumps and hazards. We roll along in this peloton, and I feel like I'm barely pedaling. I look down at my computer since it seems weird that we would go this slowly, and every time I look, it's a surprise. Without pedaling much at all, we're going 21-23-25 miles per hour. It's easy riding, and the most remarkable thing is that I'm just inches away from the Toughest Cyclist on the Planet.
What else can I tell you? The time flies by too quickly, and the group shapes and reshapes itself, and after awhile, I find myself riding next to other riders and having nice conversations with many of them. This is something that doesn't happen much on Ride the Rockies, but this group is different. Tighter, more connected, more about riding as a group.
I shadow Tyler on many occasions. His legs are chiseled. They are clean shaven. They are bronze. His legs are what Michaelangelo dreamed of when he was sculpting. He rides effortlessly. His buddies, all dressed in identical "Tyler Hamilton Foundation" jerseys, shorts, socks, and mounted on "Tyler Hamilton Foundation" bikes - ride near him, just like the Discovery lieutenants protecting Lance. When we hit little uphills, everyone in the pack gets up out of the saddle - everyone, that is, except Tyler. He just pedals along. The little hills seem to be nothing at all to him. He glides.
One of the guys who rides up next to me asks if I've had a chance to ride with Tyler and talk to him. No, I say, but I'd like to. He tells me I should - that he spent some time talking to Tyler the day before and he's a great guy - but my faculties all leave me at the thought of pulling up right next to him. What would I say? All I can envision is drool leaving my mouth, so I content myself to just enjoy the ride.
Too soon, we are winding our way through Glenwood Springs, and then we go down the canyon on the bike path a few miles to the No Name exit. This is - at almost 45 miles into the day - the first checkpoint for the ride, and the place that Mick and I have agreed we'll turn around and head back up the hill. The ride to Glenwood is mostly very gradual downhill, and combined with the peloton effect, we have ridden the entire distance at an average of 20 mph. The support staff has laid out snacks and drinks for us at the stop, and we spend 10 or 15 minutes off our bikes swapping stories. I am starting to hate the shyness that keeps me from approaching Tyler, but what can you do? I cannot think of a word to say to him.
Now it's time to go - the leader of the ride starts to rally people to get ready to take off again - and Mick and I talk about starting the ride back up to Aspen. And so, finally, instead of walking towards my bike, my feet propel me to my biking hero, and I thrust out my hand. "Tyler, we're heading back to Aspen, but it was really great to meet you, and an honor to ride with you." There, the words have left my mouth without faltering or stumbling, and I find myself grasping the hand of my hero. He looks me in the eyes and very genuinely says, "hey, thanks for coming on the ride - have a great ride back." And he smiles, and I'm thrilled, because, just like I believe in his innocence in the drug scandal, I believe in the genuineness in his words to me.
And then Mick and I get on our bikes and ride the long ride back to Aspen. I will sleep in next weekend.
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