For anyone who has done a long distance ride, a century, or a tour knows each ride is not just a physical but mental challenge. Each ride seems to have a point where the rider decides he or she does not want to do this anymore. This is the specific place where the pendulum could swing either way: gut it out and finish, wait for SAG and get a ride home or sob uncontrollably. For Brian Rummelhart and Chris Hannes taking a mountain tandem out for 100k on its maiden voyage at the 2006 Tour de Cure in Grafton, mile 37 was that point. Here is their story.

The best way to learn how to ride a tandem, the experts say, is step by step. It requires patience, and attention to detail, learning the subtle nuances of your partners riding style and cadence, reaching a middle ground, and developing a system of communication before any serious rides. Not for Rev Rumme. Instead of riding in a WORS race Rumme decided, after copious amounts of goading from DC tour coordinator Norman, to sign himself and Chris Hannes up for the 100k ride. This gentle arm twisting by Norman led to the odyssey which will be forever known in DC lore as "The epic struggle to conquer mile 37" With Brian’s new (to him) tandem all tuned up and on the bike rack, he picked up Hannes at 5:30 am to drive to the start an hour away. Little was said during the ride as unspoken thoughts wandered from living wills to final burial details. The fact that neither of them had ever ridden or knew anything about tandems was weighing heavily on their minds

After a harrowing registration (does a tandem register once or twice?, do we both get bib numbers?, and are we a team or a team on a team?) they took the bike off the rack and assembled the wheels. This is where Hannes asked, "Do you think we should at least get a quarter mile on it before the start?" to which Rumme said, "What does it matter, just get on the bike and shut up!"

At the starting line a minute later both Rumme and Hannes took note of the unseasonably cold temperature and howling wind. This would be a concern on most rides but all they could think was, "How do we start this thing?" Then the lonely feeling came as they noticed all the 700x23 tires, while they sheepishly sported 26 x 2.10 semi aggressive trail tires. What were they in for, this is America, they weren’t even really sure how far 100k was. Seconds before the start Hannes asked if they were the only tandem, to which Rumme answered "At least we are not on a recumbent!"

Then: one, two, three - push: they were off. The start was a little sloppy but they did it without falling. Busy congratulating each other they failed to notice the upcoming turn, their first, it would be a right. Once again, shaky and sloppy with a slight wobble through the apex the first corner was negotiated successfully. They were off and running...er riding.

The first ten miles were eventful, with plenty of comments and questions pertaining to the tandem, accompanied by looks of disdain when it was learned this was the maiden voyage. Comments varied from: "That’s cool!", and "Why didn’t you sign up for a shorter ride the first time out?", to "You know they make road tires for those wheels, there aren’t any trails out here." Then out of nowhere, the most emasculating event to ever happen to this fledgling tandem team, they were passed by a recumbent. Without looking at each other they both shouted, "Oh no he didn’t!" This brought a chuckle from the entire peleton, except for one rider. Those recumbent riders have no sense of humor. Realizing this was for real, they put there heads down, Rumme slammed it into a big gear and they were off, never to see that recumbent again.

The next 10 miles proved to be the training ground, now they could turn, stop, start, and shift. Not one crash. It was at this time that they both noticed there seemed to be an inordinate number of hills, and a very strong wind. Not to worry, they were on a tandem, double the power. This is the biggest myth in cycling other than, "recumbent bikes are cool."

Hannes summed it up like this, "If you have ten people on a ten person bike, you can’t go ten times as fast!"

This was a hint of things to come. Miles 20-40, the ugly lonely miles, including mile 37.

They were facing a 20+mph headwind on a hilly unmarked course and the, "why are we here?" thoughts began to creep in. They were mostly alone, the peleton long since strung out. The long stretch North to Oostburg yielded no wind block as Captain Rumme and Stoker Hannes now in perfect synch braved the elements struggling to keep the tandem above 15 mph. Then it hit them. They were lost. Skipping two of the first three rest stops seemed like a bad idea now as they were hungry, cold, tired, lost, and a long way from home. This was mile 37.

Lesser men would have quit. This team dismounted, took out a sweaty crumpled map and devised a plan to pummel Norman for talking them into this ride. 37 miles, slightly over halfway (maybe), too late to turn around, not close enough to start thinking of the finish. Physically still in good shape, this is where the mental challenge begins. After taking a photo of themselves with the cows, a call to Jodi telling her to punch Norman in the face, and a course correction, they were off once again.

The wind was still there, as were the hills, but in the distance there was a water tower. Could it be, yes, Ootsburg. After a few missed turns they reached the rest stop, food, drink and camaraderie. Of the ten cyclists there all voiced the same feelings as the ignorant tandem team with knobby tires. Something about the synergy of the group revitalized everyone. The hard part was over. Wind gear was shed, good lucks and thank yous were doled out, back on the bike, its time to go home.

Miles 41-67, these are the good miles. Working like a well oiled machine the team was now cruising along at speeds in excess of 20-25 mph. No coasting, no full-on mash, just a steady cadence . While approaching other cyclists nobody turned around anymore. They knew the now familiar sound of the trail tires on the pavement. They had spent the last 3 hours together. They were now greeted with comments like, "Wow you guys are on a mountain bike, good job", and "Those tires sound like a semi coming". They had actually earned the respect of the roadies. This is not a simple task for mountain bikers.

With fatigue setting in finally there were signs, the course was now marked. They must be getting close. Mile 37 had somehow gone from a miserable experience to a fond memory.

A few turns and there they were, orange cones. This was it, the end.

It wasn’t until later in the day after eating a much deserved meal that TCTT Dan Allemand began to notice a recurring theme in the conversation. The term mile 37 kept coming up. What was it about mile 37? It’s mile 37 that keeps us out here. Dan could not remember what mile in his 54k event was his mile 37, but he was sure he had one. Its easy to dread the mile 37’s during our rides, and its easy to call for a ride home when the mile 37’s show up. But without mile 37 the other 66 would not be as rewarding.

It started like many other Sunday mornings. Awoken by the piercing sound of an $11.00 alarm clock, the filtered rays of the first morning sun peek through the East windows and the pitter-patter of Juan Carlos’ paws as he races around the house. Today, however, was different. Today was ‘Tour de Cure’ day.

The Tour has been a much anticipated fundraiser ride that the Drivers Club has added to their list of charitable works, which benefits the American Diabetes Association. In the preceeding months, Drivers Club riders had asked their friends, families, and neighbors to support this organization with monetary donations to help fund research, kids camps, and family aid. That part of the event showed tremendous success as the team tallied $1000+ dollars among the five members listed on the team roster (a sixth member was involved in team activities on ride day).

As layer after layer of cycling clothing were packed for the unpredictable Wisconsin weather, a nervous excitement hung in the air. Fully packed, dressed and after one last check of the essentials (helmet, waiver form, donation envelope), it was time to wait outside for my scheduled ride. Jodi Rummelhart pulled into the driveway at half past six, her bike and her friend’s bike secured to the back. We shared a smile and ‘good mornings’, and then it was off to Grafton, but first we had business. Jodi’s friend Gail would join us in the car and DC Tour coordinator Norm Hoening was wishing to follow us in his car. Brian and Chris had to get an earlier start due to the longer ride they were signed up for; we would meet them after the riding was through.

Upon entering the Grafton H.S. parking lot, it was mere moments before we found Brian’s ‘Magnum’ with my Trek dangling from the rack. The bicycles were taken down, the needed clothes were donned, as the sunny skies couldn’t push the mercury out of the ‘chilly’ section of the thermometer. Smiling volunteers greeted us at the doors and assisted with our mandatory registration duties. Karen, the check-in volunteer stated, "You may want to note the changes that have been made to the 50K course before you take off." Norm thought that since we’ve never ridden here before, that any course we ride would be fine as it’s, "new to us". We did notice that the ‘changes’ added an additional 4 kilometers (2.5 miles) to the already arduous task ahead. After receiving our #’s, maps, and ‘Schwinn’ water bottles, it was time to grab a much needed breakfast snack and prepare for our 08:30 take off time.

 

Lined up in the school’s driveway, we awaited the countdown. And with a shout it was started. A quick right turn out onto the road, and the 50, no 54K riders pedaled away from Grafton H.S. not knowing what the next 2.5 hrs had in store for them. Dan Allemand’s first impression of the course was this, "The wind was harsh and in our faces right from the get go, then we turned north… AND THE 20MPH WIND WAS STILL IN OUR FACES!!" It was at this time that Norm noted, "We should have packed a lunch, because with all the hills I see, plus this wind, we’re in for a humdinger of a morning."

The girls on the other hand were much more optimistic. "Slow and steady wins the race", said a confident Jodi Rummelhart. The four 54K riders split 2 and 2 shortly after the 8^th mile. Norm and Dan hung together while Gail and Jodi paired off for the remainder of the ride. At the second rest stop, the boys looked back and watched for a glimmer of pink off Gail’s highly visible helmet. They saw nothing of the sort, so they soldiered on along the sparsely marked course, not even sure of the choice of turns that they had taken. At one point, Norm noticed riders traveling in every direction, "Do any of these people know where they’re going? We need to catch the wheel of someone who’s ridden out here before, so they can lead us to the promise land." Another rest stop and another backward glance from the boys… still nothing. Meanwhile, on a desolate stretch of highway, Jodi heard the cackle of a rooster call, and thought, "Gail’s loosing it, she’s climbed one hill to many, she’s impersonating barnyard animals now." But much to her surprise as she glanced over, she saw a real rooster calling out to them. "Where are we?" Gail questioned.

Some sections of road seemed to stretch on forever, and the only way to keep your focus was to put your head down and churn those legs. . The shadows inched closer underneath their bikes, signaling the noon hour approaching. During this observation, Norm noticed a large shadow join his on the asphalt below his bike. He looked overhead into the mid-day sun. A hawk soared just 30 feet above, looking down on the two lonely figures scurrying their way across his hunting grounds. "I think he’s waiting for us to drop, so he can pick our bones clean." Norm informed Dan. Dan watched as some much smaller birds chased this majestic bird of prey off into a nearby field. They pedaled on.

As the mental struggle continued, Dan tried to ease Norman’s mind by telling him, "This hill crests at that brown house." Only to find that the road turned at the brown house and continued it’s ascent with an increased grade for another ½ mile. Quitting was not an option, because they were too far from anything to safely make that call. Hill after hill, all into the wind, as the miles ticked away on their cycling computers, Allemand was overheard saying, "I’ve climbed so many hills this morning, I feel like I should plant a flag up here."

When the scenery was noticed, it was lovely. From large farm houses, to rolling fields, from quaint shop lined streets to elk farms. This course had something for everyone, including a brief glimpse of Lake Michigan, before it headed back inland and into the final ¼ of the ride. The girls thought that the guys were off somewhere in the distance, and they put their heads down and pushed on kilometer by kilometer.

An unsteady look at the map that I had inadvertently stuffed into the center pocket of my jersey told me that the upcoming turn would lead us back across I-43 and straight to the finish line. Of course that also meant, straight into that 20+ mph head wind. The Grafton Campus on the horizon was a welcome sight and none too soon. With a renewed vigor, Norm and I pushed down hard with each pedal stroke. We turned into the parking lot and headed straight for the cars, it was then that we noticed something alarming. Both Jodi and Gail’s bikes were already secured on the rack attached to the Prius. Somewhere out there on the 33.9-mile course the girls had passed the guys and no one was the wiser. So with each rest stop, as Norm and Dan looked back for any sign of the ‘Pink Ladies’, what they were actually doing was putting themselves further and further behind. Gail figured that it had been 8-10 minutes since they had arrived. "We’ve already been inside, we changed our clothes and are ready to eat some lunch", said a triumphant Mrs. Hansche.

A fine cafeteria style box lunch was served by even more smiling volunteers, and the group sat waiting for the tandem team to return to the start/finish line. They shared stories of ‘this hill, and that street’, only to find that they didn’t recall the same scenery very often. The cycling computers flashed identical ending figures, but as in life, there are many paths to lead you through to the end.

All the Drivers Club team members were reunited and as Brian and Chris ate their sandwiches, they all laughed and shared stories of humorous moments, photo ops, and painful climbs of one sort or another. They looked back on the days activities and agreed that this indeed was a ride to remember

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