...Faster than Last

2021 Windy 500 wrap up

“Die first. Then you can go about the business of living.” ~ Ekhart Tolle

Well, here we are. Year 11. The Annual Ride of Stupidity. In the books. The riding was great, and the weather was great (except when it wasn’t). The group was great – good size, great guys. The new Door County route was amazing. So why was this year so boring to me?

I’ve waited a few months now to let the memories and feelings really sink in. After riding 5,613 total miles and climbing 25 miles (131,515 feet) above the earth’s surface (into the virtual mesosphere), I’ve become bored. 44 days of riding at least 100 miles a day, in Wisconsin, in August, and I can do it in my sleep.

For those who haven’t been there every year, I would certainly hope that it’s still interesting. Especially for those who have only 1 or 2 trips in them. On paper, this journey is amazing. And mostly because of all of the work that goes into it before we roll a single mile. Chris McArdle and Brien Christopherson literally spend 365 days a year planning and organizing. The next year’s strategizing starts the second we roll into my driveway. We eat amazing food, sometimes in the middle of nowhere. We stay in awesome hotels (usually). The quality and caliber of men that do this ride are really second to none. It’s hard to point to any negatives at all. But, sometimes too much of a good thing is still too much. Kind of like Midwesterners going to see the ocean – it’s awe-inspiring. Unless you grew up living on the ocean, then it’s normal – boring even. Same thing. The ride is a spectacular event, and I’ll do it until I die. But, as in years past, it needs some changes to keep it fascinating. So for 2022, there will be changes.

But first, 2021:

Our mandatory rollout with Captain Crocs once again doing lead-out duty. Hard to believe that Blake was only 2 years old in Year #1.

The right amount of riders makes a big difference. In years past, we’ve had close to 30 guys and it becomes a real challenge to roll out smoothly on Day 1. This was by design a smaller group and by far the smoothest rollout ever. It was also the fastest Windy day on record, averaging 20.1mph over the first 133 miles to Green Bay.

Fluid Truck provided our SAG wagon this year. A brand new Dodge cargo van, which made the journey so much better. And with 2 dedicated SAG drivers, anything we needed was always 50 yards away. One thing we didn’t need? Pabst Blue Ribbon Black. The worst beer ever brewed.

And away we go!

Rolling out of Brookfield in nearly perfect conditions.

On to Alma’s, our traditional Stop #1. Egg-cellent sammiches, followed by a PBR or two to motivate us up the hill that leads out of town. Nothing like tight-fitting lycra after cramming your gut full of potatoes!

Rollin’, rollin’, rollin’…

Pro Tip: An easy way to meet new people is to park in front of their house in the country and lay on their lawn…

More riding in the sunshine, and finally – MEXICAN FOOD (that didn’t take long). Mr. Taco/Gloria’s did not disappoint. I picked up a staple in the road about 2 blocks away, rolling in on the only flat tire of the day. Or were there 2? Flats were fairly minimal this year, except for me. I had 3: a staple, a piece of glass, and a sharp rock while flying down a gravel road.

A Mexican restaurant, in the middle of Nowhere, WI, with delicious, authentic food and drink.

Reminder – there is no fun to be had on the Windy.

Onward and upward. Green Bay was base camp this year, and we made it there in record time.

…and this is why we can’t have nice things.

Moving on…

Friday is the new Saturday? Friday brought us an entirely new route: East to Door County, then North, and a big loop back home. By far the best route of the weekend.

Did I mention that PBR Black is the Devil’s child?

I somehow managed to average almost 500 watts… Seems highly accurate.

So far, so good. The threat of rain every day hasn’t produced any so far and the routes have been perfect for keeping a mixed group of riders together. Rolling along at 20-22 on the flats made for a great day in the saddle.

Saturday was the first-ever “off day”. A concept we’ve thought about since the early days. The original thought was to get an Air BNB or VRBO on a lake and spend the day swimming, fishing, grilling, whatever. Tough to find a spot that sleeps X-teen guys comfortably though, so we opted for Plan B. Late rollout, shorts and T-shirts, and a total of fewer than 20 miles of “recovery” riding between spots of interest in and around Green Bay.

Overall, the concept was a hit. Riding 4 back-to-back Centuries+ can take a toll on the (old) bodies and minds, especially when the pace gets quicker or the hills get more plentiful. Most guys seemed to appreciate the recovery day, but almost everyone would have preferred a “real” recovery ride in the morning and then chill time off the bikes after lunch. The ride we did on Saturday was more like a 1-day fun ride that we’d do around Milwaukee.

Started with a quick trip over to L-L-L-Lambeau! I think Dave has to fart.

Followed by an even shorter trip to the first Brewery.

Do you think that an individual born to parents with low intelligence can develop an IQ higher than his/her parents? Explain your answer.

So… this happened. Insert your own caption here. Yes, that’s a cat.

SPD tennis shoes? Nope. The rain finally came out to greet us on Saturday. Just a teaser of what we’d face on Monday.

bc and I decided to crash a random pizza party. I thought the guy behind me had the new Bontrager TT helmet on, turns out it was just a really bad hairpiece. And American Flag Lady was shitfaced.

M. F. Fred!!! SAG driver #2 for the weekend, and one of the best guys on Earth. Found on the 2020 Windy. Now a part of history.

On to La Nostra Strada Pizzeria. The BEST pizza on Earth. Whatever, fight me. You can’t change facts. Andy Krans, an old friend of mine, and now everyone’s, is the mastermind behind this place. The pizza is amazing and the staff is equally amazing. Do yourself a favor a drive there right now. We tipped so heavily that the cook made a TikTok video of the cash.

Reetz practicing his recumbent posture for a few years down the road.

Later that evening we (me) chose to order appetizers for everyone. Chicharrones. And when I say everyone, I mean the population of Earth. Lutz’s order came stamped with a time/date tattoo. Here’s bc forcing me to eat 1/1,000,000th of the order:

Also, Wanda’s senior crush had another birthday. The waitstaff brought out a cake made of Centrum Silver and tears:

From there it was back to business as usual. Sunday meant a trip to Da U.P. Now that you know the best pizza joint in the world, let me introduce you to the best Mexican food in the world…

And also, this:

When confronted with a downed tree from the storm the night before, our brave lycra-clad men wearing cleated shoes tackled it with the bravado of a group of Karens at a LuLu Lemon sale… “We’ll have to go a different way!”

Now, where was I? Oh yes, killer Mexican food. This:

The food alone makes all the miles more than worth it.

Back to Wisconsin, and back to the birthplace of bc:

May I introduce you to the coolest little town on the map: “Shitasskiville”

After that, more bikes and beers and awesomeness. As usual. And very mild weather. Until it wasn’t. At the last beer stop, Mother Nature decided that it was time to stop F-ing around. With a little over 10 miles to go, the skies turned black and we began to ride angry for the last bit of the day. While the first group left when bc called for it, half of the group was still inside the brewery and never heard the warning shots. As much as I loved the 28mph paceline coming into Green Bay, I felt like a fat turd when the second half of the crew rolled in 10 minutes later, completely soaked by the thunderstorm.

Speaking of thunderstorms… Day 4 (5). Never Have I Ever – ridden for 11 hours straight in driving rain. No, wait… I HAVE.

From the “Hey, you got a dollar I can have??” Fall catalog

So, there’s rain and then there’s RAIN. Almost 11 hours of relentless headwinds and driving rain. From Green Bay all the way to Brookfield. 134 miles – 10:41:50. The same route that took 6:35:43 of moving time on the previous Thursday going North, took what seemed like a month and a half on the way home. If I had to do it all over again, I’d skip that day. 100%.

And…home! Always bittersweet. Good to be back, but sad that the journey ends for another year.

And finally… some random shots to round out the adventure:

I love this ride. I love these guys. You all make my life better.

Until next year!

2021 Windy 500 dates/routes/details…

All,

2021 will be the 11th running of the Windy (10th anniversary). After the 2019 edition, I had grand dreams of making the 2020 version into something huge. As it turns out, that is what spoiled the magic in the first place. 2020 ended up being (because of COVID) one of the smallest groups of riders AND one of the top 3 best rides of all time.

(Lack of) planning is what made the first-ever year the gold standard. We had a mission (idea), 3 planned hotel stops, and UPS boxes en route to all 3. Aside from that, any “planning” that happened prior to launch was subject to change and/or ridicule. No SAG or support, a route that was all but abandoned 75 miles in, and 4 guys with no clue what they were doing. It was spectacular!

Over the years, the ride has grown and grown. Roughly 50 (?) different riders have taken part. Some just once, some two or three times, and others lots more. Mark Lampe has participated in every ride since 2011, bc has been there since the year 2012, but only Chris McArdle and I have covered all 5,089 Windy miles together.

Over the years, the ride grew by word of mouth and at some point, it just got too big. It became more of a guided tour. It’s easy for a handful of dudes to roll into the Town of Nowhere and get an “on-demand” burger and a beer for lunch. It’s nearly impossible with 28 guys unless you have a few hours to spare. Chris and bc spent hours upon hours designing routes and stops because there were “so many people” (an ode to Chris), it became a part-time job to plan and then execute the ride.

In 2019, we came up with the bright idea of limiting the riders to a specific number by using a scoring method. Yeah – that was stupid. ‘Nuff said.

2020 was wide open, and then COVID hit. I had intended to do a “Windy 1,000” for the tenth year. After COVID, we split it into 2 separate 500-mile routes. Yeah – that was stupid. ‘Nuff said.

The Windy 500 will always be the Windy 500. There were a few rules (guidelines really) that we used initially. After a few years, it became clear that spending a few days riding all day with friends and covering (+/-) 500 miles was spectacular. No rules or guidelines needed. This brings us to 2021…

For the 11th ride/10th anniversary, we are still discussing the details. What we do know is:

The ride will be 500 miles. Ish. Not 1,000. Ish.
The ride will take 5 days. Thursday, August 5 to Monday, August 9. This year, we will be enjoying a celebratory 5-day timeframe with a first-time-ever Saturday “rest day”. Hanging out somewhere all day; swimming, beers, jamming tunes, recovering, grilling out, bonfire and bourbon.

Limiting riders to 18-ish. Simply the first dudes with deposits in will ride. Judgment free zone.
Rolling hills, no pride-busting Categorized climbs.
Probably headed North. Looking to do an Airbnb on a lake for the turn-around day.

More to follow. But if you know, you know. Find the link, pay the deposit, you’re in. There are a few dudes who’ve never done it that would be fantastic to ride with. There are a butt-ton of veterans who’d be awesome to ride next to. Don’t get left behind.

2020 Windy 500 Wrap-up

This is what 51 years old looks like.

More specifically, this is what it looks like at the halfway point of this year’s ride, with 2 days, 260 miles, and 11,000+ feet of climbing in.

In fact, this is exactly what 51 looks like after the tenth year of this ride.

5,089 total miles. So far.

That’s roughly Milwaukee to Los Angeles, then back to Milwaukee, then back to Los Angeles…

123,162 total feet of climbing (23.3 vertical miles). So far.

That’s the equivalent of Felix Baumgartner’s jump from space back to Earth – but going straight up, not down. Or climbing all 42 floors of the US Bank Center, the tallest building in Milwaukee…

205 times.

This is what this year’s crew looks like, including the breakfast crew and Johnny Croc, our lead-out man:

Let’s face it, 2020 might go down as one of the shittiest years ever in our lives. But this ride might be the only “normal” thing right now, and there was no way I was cancelling.

Ten years after dreaming this up, it’s just a part of life now. For me, and everyone that continues to make it happen. So it had to happen this year.

Day 1

It was weird having such a small crew. Weird, but really good. We normally roll out about 30 strong, including a few dudes that just roll to breakfast with us that first day. We normally have a full-sized Sprinter van, loaded down with bags, bikes, wheelsets, beer, you name it. This time, it was just an SUV with our gear and the bare essentials.

Weather was spectacular, the rollout was uneventful. Unlike having a giant peloton, we quickly found our rhythm this year, and it was on.

Just outside Beaver Dam (home of the Golden Beavers…), bc flatted (1 of only 3 flats on the entire ride) and we rolled into a driveway to get out of traffic. As soon as we stopped, out walks Fred Kaping. Retired Navy Vet, realtor, jack of all trades, and phenomenal home brewer! We offer PBR as payment for blocking his driveway, he returns the favor with Fred Brew – a deliciously smooth 14% ABV homebrew.

THIS is what the Windy 500 is all about. Random acts of kindness. Meeting new people and seeing new things you’d NEVER otherwise experience. We all roll out from Fred’s agreeing that his grandkids are some of the luckiest kids on Earth.

From there, it was a fairly regular roll the rest of the way to our home away from home for the weekend, the Spring Valley Inn. If regular includes a “biker” in a leather vest and boots on an E-bike playing Pantera through his phone…

We did what we always do, offered him a PBR, and listened to his stories.

Then food, drinks, fire & bed.

Day 2:

Rolling hills are supposed to be rolly… Right?

We had some beautiful scenery and some modest climbs, but apparently, Chris thought the best birthday present of all for me (and all of us) was a kick in the nuts:

6,300 ft of climbing with (7) Category 4 climbs. Really? And no receipt with this gift, so I couldn’t even return it. Asshole.

Fast forward to Saturday night – where a bunch of very tired riders enjoyed a delightful 5-star meal of deep-fried fat under the too-bright fluorescent lobby lights of the hotel.

Without Janisch, we all had pizza AND wings!

Day 3:

Another long day in the saddle, but nowhere near the soul-sucking climbing of the day before. Tapped out the day at an easy pace, dodging a few raindrops and falling temps along the way.

What would the Windy be without Mother Nature imposing her will??

More bike riding, PBR stops, etc., etc., etc…

Day 4:

Locked and loaded for the trip back home. Could not have done it with the Brothers Sag – Nick and Jon. You guys are AWESOME. Thank you so much.

That one time when Dino forgot he wasn’t at ToAD…

Finally some Mexican!!!! Beef tongue with habanero sauce. Least calories consumed ever on this year’s ride, but I still managed to gain 6 pounds??

We’re all getting older, but I’ll do this until I die. It’s become such a part of me, that I can’t imagine NOT doing it.

The beauty of the Windy 500 is not the ride. It’s not the “500 miles in 4 days”, although that’s always fun to tell people – especially non-cyclists. That’s just the road map. The true joy is the journey – all the moments in-between. There have been countless memories over the past 10 years. Sure, a few of them involve Mt Kickintheballs Hill, and wanting to heave up your spleen, but almost all of them have nothing to do with bicycles.

For me, this was never about riding bikes. It was about adventure. It was about people. And the ride has never disappointed. Yes, some years have been better than others, but after 10 years I wouldn’t change much.

I can’t wait until next year, and I can’t thank every single friend who’s ridden next to me enough for all of these memories.

You guys are the best.

See you in 2021.

Another canti to disc conversion…

Just like my FrankenBike,

The Fetish has been many things, and can do all things:

But it’s never been a disc-equipped rig. Until sometime between now and later:

Goodbye cantilevers…

Winter project – complete tear apart, sand, file, obsess, re-paint, rebuild…

Progress is slow and painful…

To be continued…

After what seemed like an eternity (the 2020 riding season), I’ve finally gotten back to this project. Hoping to now have it built up in time for a ride in 2 weeks…

Canti bosses are gone. Not a perfect surface, but I didn’t want to compromise the metal. Good enough to get going.

Finally gave up on trying to sandblast the hardened paint off of aluminum and had the frame acid dipped. Now she’s RAW like Monday Night. Paint is next.

That looks REAL nice Clark… Real Nice. Now you just need some pieces/parts.

And finally, this:

Reflections on the 20 year anniversary of my death

On August 17, 1999, I was run over by a van.

I was on a motorcycle doing about 50 mph, and then I was on the ground in a pool of blood doing 0 mph. My femur was sticking through my leg, my hip was shattered and I was bleeding to death in the middle of a 3-lane highway.

It’s been 20 years, so I was feeling nostalgic a few nights ago and I pulled out the old manila folder full of “stuff” from the accident: photos, police reports, mountains of medical bills, and a thank-you letter that I had written after the accident. The letter was what I was after.

I have almost no recollection of what actually happened in the few minutes after I saw a van pull into my lane and I hit the brakes. I remember laying down and feeling wet (blood). I remember hearing sirens and then I remember seeing the hospital ceiling lights flashing past my eyes as my gurney was wheeled down a hallway. Then 3 days of mostly morphine-induced stupor. Most of my “memories” are pieced together from what I read in my own drug-permeated, fog-filled police reports, and stories I heard after the fact. The thank-you letter was my way of telling everyone what happened at once, rather than 1,000 times over and over, and also thanking the people that helped me through everything. The thank-yous were directed at the people closest to me; my wife, my Mom, a few good friends, and then there was a stranger I thanked named Tim Stalbaum.

So, because it’s 2019, and I can, I Googled “Tim Stalbaum”, and this popped up:

MOTORCYCLE RIDER HURT IN NORTHWEST WICHITA CRASH

20 years later, the stranger that came to my rescue after I was in a life-threatening motorcycle accident, was in a life-threatening motorcycle accident in Kansas.

I’ve searched for the word to describe it – it’s not ironic and it’s not coincidental, it’s weird, it’s eerie, and it sucks. I’m really not sure how to process the information either. If he was still in WI I’d visit him and we could ruminate on the coincidence.

I wouldn’t wish my experience on my worst enemy, and certainly not on someone who selflessly helped a stranger the way he had. I hope and pray that he is able to recover the way I have, and someday he’ll have to pull out a dusty file to bring the memories back.

2020 Update – this story did not end well. Tragically, Tim passed away on Feb 3, 2020:

https://www.dignitymemorial.com/obituaries/wichita-ks/timothy-stalbaum-9029968

2019 Windy 500 wrap-up

511 miles.

10,613 ft of elevation.

4 days of awesome.

That’s the facts. Now the fluff…

The Windy 500 (AKA: “The Windy”) is now 9 years old. In total, we’ve covered 4,594 miles (New York to Los Angeles and back) and climbed 105,704 feet (20+ miles straight up). For reference, the “Death Zone” begins at about 26,246 feet above sea level. At that elevation, unassisted from compressed air or oxygen, severe altitude sickness sets in, debilitating the human body and eventually resulting in death. I have certainly felt like death at the top of some of those climbs over the years… and we’ve gone 4 times the Death Zone height in total.

2019 finally marked the “return to form” (credit to bc for that term) for this adventure. For the past few years, the vibe of the ride has been “off”. For me, this is a mental checkout, an escape from the pressures and responsibilities of daily life: being a Dad, a husband, a breadwinner, a home remodeler, a boss, etc. Just my chance to do physical work all day long and then chill with friends at night. Then get up and do it again. No spreadsheets, no sports schedules, no meetings, no homework, no bills to pay… just pure work. And all of that pure work leads (me) to internal purity. Which leaves me with serenity, joy, strength, harmony, happiness, patience and magnanimity. Or it should.

For me, and a few others, the last few years have lacked that reward. This trip had become an organized Tour – more about the rest stops and KOMs than the journey. We ground people to dust with big dick contests on legit Category 3 climbs, and we raced to hotels to end the rides faster and faster each day. We yelled at each other to “Hold our lines!” and “Ride two up!” We took guys who normally ride at 16 mph and asked them to hold a wheel at 24 mph. And we were genuinely pissed when they couldn’t. And we called it a “vacation”.

This was not the ride that many of us needed anymore. To use a Lampe term, it had been “Kayzared”. You take something really good and turn it up to 11. Until it sucks. Oh, and to make matters even worse, I sent out invitations this year. Yeah. So, some people were not invited. Because I’m super cool. And I had to pick and choose people based on bullshit criteria because I had invited everyone I knew, which made the ride too big and unmanageable. Now I was barely looking forward to riding because I had pissed friends off, the ride sucks, and life was way too busy this year to even take 4 days away. I was feeling uber magnanimous indeed. And also like the world’s biggest fraud.

Fast forward to August 2. The day after my 50th birthday. The launch of the 9th Windy 500. I was excited, but my expectations were low.

Fewer of us than last year, by design. An almost on-time launch. Zero drama. All smiles. Things felt different already.

After a much shorter than usual amount of time, the group fell into a smooth rhythm. By the time we had crushed another delicious all-you-can-eat Alma’s breakfast, we were functioning like 1 unit.

We spent time on roads that were very familiar and roads that we had never seen before. McArdle, our perennial RouteMeister, never disappoints and this year was no exception. Roads were rolling, beautiful and virtually traffic-free.

bc treated us to his usual round of surprises and delights by piloting us to the only authentic Mexican place within 100 miles, after lowering the bar by announcing that we’d be eating at fast food joints that day.

We made our way to the 1 and only hotel stop – a first for the Windy. Green Bay became our hub for 3 nights, which was a welcome change from schlepping bags of dirty kits back into the van every morning. From GB we rolled West into Central WI, North to the UP and finally back to Brookfield.

The pictures always tell the story better than words ever could. Suffice to say, the Windy is alive and well. We came, we saw, we made friends with retirees and biker gangs… and we were serenaded by the always entertaining Bill Finn. We received cake and medals to keep us safe, and smiles and warm hospitality everywhere we went. Except when we went past the laundromat. Do not go past the laundromat.

And suddenly, it’s over. Everyone says their goodbyes and we wake up in our own beds the next day and go to work and start thinking about next year.

I can’t describe what this event has become to me, for me. I can’t describe the level of gratitude I have for everyone that has participated over the years. This has truly become far greater than I had ever hoped, despite my best efforts to screw it up over the years. The funny thing is, everyone always remembers the Windy differently. And that’s OK. Everyone is free to pick and choose their own highlights, their own greatest roads or their favorite conversations. I am humbled to have created the vehicle to provide those memories.

The only way to make it better for the upcoming 10th Anniversary in 2020 is to make it 1,000 miles… and so we will.

2018 Windy 500 wrap-up

509 miles this year makes it 4,083 total Windy 500 miles ridden for me so far. That’s the equivalent of a round-trip ride from Toronto, Canada to the Gulf of Mexico and back. For the rest of you Pop Tarts, your total Windy mileage ranges somewhere between 4,083 (McArdle) & 509 (everyone else). What matters most though is not the mileage, it’s the adventure.

This year, as with every year, the ride rolled from my house. Day 1 is a mix of veterans and newbies, well-wishers and tag-alongs who roll to the first stop with us and then head home. It usually takes a few hours after we roll out to find our rhythm. Some are better than others at riding 2 up in big groups. Those who’ve raced are comfortable on someone’s wheel at 30 mph, riding shoulder to shoulder. That type of confidence makes for very smooth, safe, confident riding. Others, not so much. This group is a mixed bag of experience and ability, so for some, it’s a bit of a crash course in technique (without the actual crash part). Eventually, people figure it out, and we do our best to ride as one unit for the next 3 1/2 days.

Day 1, stop 1, ALMA’S Cafe in Allenton. They’ve treated us way too well over the years, and after 35-40 miles of riding on fumes, their breakfast sandwiches are better than peanut butter dipped in peanut butter.

Our favorite stop is always Kwik Trip, because… it’s Kwik Trip:

I would not recommend human consumption of ice purchased at Kwik Trip. Just sayin’.

Eventually, the hills find us:

We ride all day, and nights are dinners and renewing friendships.

Mornings are van loading and slowly rolling out of whatever parking lot we have taken over.

It’s riding, chatting, working, recovering and most of all, making memories that will last a lifetime:

Geez Janisch, lighten up and enjoy yourself!

*“No one is dumb who is curious. The people who don’t ask questions remain clueless throughout their lives.”* ~ Neil deGrasse Tyson

As always, if you weren’t there, you’ll never know.

The Windy 500 is just a bike ride, but it changes you, makes you better. The hardest day for me is always Day 5. The day when I wake up and shower and put on people clothes and drive to work and sit down at my desk. And I don’t pedal. Not once. And I don’t climb. And I don’t descend, screaming into a valley, tucked into my handlebars at 54, 55, 56 mph, with 5 guys right next to me, all doing the same, all smiling, ear to ear. I just sit.

**********************************************************************************

It has taken me quite a while to sit down and compose my thoughts about this year’s ride. The Windy 500 has become an extremely important part of my life, and I generally start planning the next ride when we roll into my driveway on Day 4. During the ride, we discuss ways to improve the experience, and I arrive home with scraps of hotel paper and bar napkins with random thoughts and ideas scribbled down on them. This year, I rolled into my driveway alone. And it was over. I showered up and sat down to a home-cooked meal with my wife and kids. The rest of the group rolled on to Wauwatosa to celebrate Bill Finn’s birthday. I had developed some kind of sinus cold on Day 2 and once I cleaned up I was done for the day. And I didn’t think about next year’s ride until a few days later.

For 4 days on the ride, I control what I do. I control my time, my efforts, my thoughts. Well, maybe not my thoughts. But I really don’t think about manipulating Excel spreadsheets much. Or my mortgage. Or yard work. I just think about riding. And talking to my close friends. Mostly about nothing. Locker room talk and juvenile jokes. But sometimes it’s about really important stuff. Really deep stuff. The kind of stuff you can talk about when there’s nothing to do all day but move your legs in hundreds of thousands of circles.

That’s my Windy 500. I work really hard at times, not so hard at other times. I wake up, grab some coffee and wait for the hotel’s breakfast to fire up. Then I get ready and I ride. All day. For 4 days. It’s as pure as it gets.

But this was Year 8, and I’ve done this before. 7 times before. And it was an adventure. A long time ago. In fact, I heard some of the guys who weren’t there in those early years telling the stories, and they even got some of it right.

Every year, somewhere along the route, people will ask:

“What are you riding for?”

I was recently reminded of this by my friend Dr. Long, and it stuck in my head like glue. The Windy 500 has become an event without a purpose. Without a True North. Why indeed?

Do you know what homogenized milk is, Billy? It’s bland Billy. Bland. And the Windy is pretty well homogenized. We eat in fancy restaurants and we have name tags, Billy. Name tags!

Don’t know how to change a tire Jimmy? It’s OK, we bring lots of extra wheels! And at the end of your long day, you get to swim and relax with other busy execs!

Meh. I think it’s time to shake it up again.

Don’t get me wrong – this ride is still SUPER awesome. The route, the riders, the endless miles in the saddle. But it’s become so big, such an event, that it’s not what it was originally intended to be. For me.

For many of the other guys that did the ride this year, and for those who have done it in past years, maybe it’s exactly what they want it to be. But the ride is at an intersection, and for Year 9, 2019, I need more. Or maybe less.

Here’s the complete list of rules for the original Windy 500, back from 2011:

You must ride a bike 500+ miles in 4 days
You must ride in at least 2 states

Unfortunately, the rules have been amended over the years to include:

Hotels must have pools. And hot tubs.
Support vehicle must be stocked with refreshments, spare wheels, spare bikes, (maybe spare riders next year?)
Rest stops can take as long as the anyone wants them to.
Anyone can make up rules as we go…

I realize that this is not just my ride anymore. Heck, I’m barely even responsible for it now. And don’t get me wrong, I like the pools. I look forward to cooling down after the ride. But the sense of adventure that launched this journey is long gone. So 2019’s route will have 2 fully supported options:

Group 1:

Faster guys, stronger climbers, fewer stops. NOT race pace, but it will be challenging.

Group 2:

Casual pace. Riders will re-group at the tops of climbs. More frequent rest stops. This group will most likely leave 1/2 hour prior to Group 1. Both Groups will meet at the lunch stop and at the hotel. No need for the faster guys to feel held back and no need for the more casual guys to turn themselves inside out. And having 2 smaller groups will do wonders for safety.

That’s all. We’ll probably go West again. The route is really beautiful and certainly challenging. And everyone is welcome back.

Oh, and to answer the question “What are you riding for?” I defer to McArdle’s answer:

“AWESOMENESS.”