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May 2, 2004. Several of our club members rode in the Chattanooga
3-Mtn, 3-State Ride. ....
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800 cyclists joined before the starting time of 8 AM EST at the
First Tennessee Pavilion in downtown Chattanooga for a mass start
out of town led once again by the city’s mayor. The weather was
overcast and cool with threatening rain clouds to the west and
north. There was a logjam of cyclists all awaiting a spot in the
mass peloton as the "Start" command was given. Spouses, children,
fiancées, and friends all shouted out hearty well wishes as we
exited the downtown area of the city.
I was giddy from all the attention that we cyclists got from
onlookers as traffic cops held up traffic when we passed through
city intersections. We finally passed over a bridge spanning the
Tennessee River and from that point it seemed the pace of the riders
picked up. Within a few miles after crossing the bridge the 25 mile
ride branched off—I saw only one person take the fork for the
quarter century route. The rest of us pedaled on with more mileage
on our brains paralleling for several miles the banks of the
Tennessee River.
The first major climb, Suck Creek Mountain, began about 10 miles
from the starting point, and once we started climbing the macho
folks started passing us ‘weeny’ boys. I did climb the 4.5 miles to
the summit faster by several minutes compared to last year’s ride.
The official photographer for this event had a cameraman positioned
about two-thirds of the way up the mountain. As we approached him
struggling to turn one crank arm after another, his plea for us to
smile for the camera met at least in my case with a frown. Once I
got to the first food stop which came about 15 miles into the ride,
I filled up my water bottles—I had started with the empty bottles
because there was no water available at the starting point. It took
about 3 minutes for me to get on my way, and I had forgotten that
there was still some more climbing to get through before we reached
the apex of this climb. For the descent down the mountain I decided
to not go full throttle, there were some slick spots from a misty
rain that was falling. We reached Powell’s Crossroads and toured
through the backroads of Hamilton County and Marion County. The
countryside was very pretty-the air smelled good. Foreboding clouds
hugged Lookout Mountain which loomed ahead and I knew I was gonna be
climbing it in a few hours. I was really hoping those clouds did not
mean we were going to be rained on as we climbed the backside of
Lookout. Not too far from this point I bypassed the second food
stop—I had ample water. At mile 42 or thereabouts a decision point
comes—take the left fork for about 21 more miles ( a metric century)
back to the starting point or the right fork for another 58 miles (a
full century). Unlike the lines from the Robert Frost poem "The Road
Not Taken", I took the right fork that seemingly invited more
pedalers.
I was again paralleling the Tennessee River/Lake Nickajack for
the next 30 minutes. I missed a turn I should have made at about
mile 50 and was headed for South Pittsburgh. After about 6 miles of
not seeing any of those lavender road markers, I finally decided I
had strayed off course and it was now time to back track. Once I got
back onto course, it wasn’t too long until I crossed over into
Alabama----Rollllll Tide!—and of course the climb up Sand Mountain
began. This was an easier climb than the Suck Creek Mountain
ascent.. I rode in tandem up the mountain with several riders and we
talked very little as we struggled. I heard lots of groaning and
some cussing. It could have been me but I’m not sure. At the top of
Sand Mountain we were rewarded with a beautiful view of the valley
we had just traversed less than a half hour before. One thing I
noticed on the climb up the mountain was all the trash dumped on the
side of the road. Among the household trash I saw were home
appliances—stoves, refrigerators—it was disgusting to see some of
this kind of stuff jettisoned by trashy people without concern of
where it might land. A few miles from the scenic vista was the third
food stop, and I tanked up my water bottles. The Alabama-Georgia
border was not too far from this point. About mile 78 I began the
descent off Sand Mountain, and at the bottom of the mountain on one
sharp turn there was a cyclist who failed to make the curve and was
laying in a heap attended to by fellow cyclists and a sheriff’s
deputy. I passed by with a sympathetic look—there was no reason to
stop since there was a crowd of people around him. A couple minutes
later an ambulance passed by me presumably in route to pick him up
for a hospital visit.
One last climb remained that being the Burkhalter’s Gap Road.
Just prior to this climb I stopped at the fourth food stop to top
off my water bottles and next came the toughest climb of the day. My
granny gear allowed me to slowly climb up this road which seemed to
be far steeper than the other two major climbs of the day. The other
climbs had plenty of turns and bends which would give me hope that
around that next turn the gradient would ease. On Burkhalter’s Gap
Road there were few turns and from the bottom of the climb the road
seemed to stretch to heaven with no relief. After climbing halfway
up, I had leg cramps so bad I finally had to get off my bike and
walk for a while. One fellow who was just ahead of me also got off
his bicycle and walked slightly ahead. I asked if I could draft off
him as we walked. Some yahoo dressed in a devil’s costume challenged
me as I walked past and told me for my sin of walking I was going to
have to restart the climb from the bottom of the mountain. Fat
Chance!!! The last quarter mile the gradient seemed to become even
more severe. Argghhhhh!!! I am not sure if the girls in the bikinis
were making fun of me or cheering me on. Maybe that was a
hallucination—I don’t know.
At the top of the mountain, now about mile 92, I bypassed food
stop five and was joined by Melissa Miller—we rode together for 3-4
miles and my leg cramps made me get off my bike for a few minutes. I
bid Melissa farewell as she rode off in the distance. Soon came the
big descent off Lookout Mountain. Someone at the start of the
descent warned me about wet pavement and accidents. My brain failed
to register what they said. At the bottom of the mountain was the
second serious accident of the day that I saw the results of. A man
who appeared to be around 60 years old looked like had slid on wet
pavement and had broken teeth and maybe broken an arm. The last two
miles traffic cops were at every major intersection directing
traffic and allowing us cyclists clear sailing back to out starting
point—First Tennessee Pavillion. My wife Emily and daughter Heather
were awaiting my arrival and I was certainly glad to see them.
The only person from the Highland Rim Bicycle Club I saw on the
entire ride aside from those people at the start was Melissa Miller.
At the beginning of the ride I did notice Bob Crook, Denny Elston,
Ken and Debbie Gamache, Matt Johnson, Terri Jones, Rebecca McCool,
Kim Hopkins. I also know that Tom Leanza and Jack Shuttleworth were
on the ride but I don’t think I ever saw those fellows.
I think great compliments should be made to the Chattanooga Bike
Club, and also the city of Chattanooga with their various
departments who helped us do this ride. Not enough can be said for
those traffic cops—mostly women—who helped us cyclists naviagate the
streets of Chattanooga at the beginning and the end of the ride.
I had a great time on this ride. My odometer said 112 miles and
it took me over 8 hours to complete the ride. I plan to be back next
year, and I am envious of all the people who plan to do the Mount
Mitchell ride this year.
This is a great sport!!!
Mike Rutherford
Editor note: last 2 pictures are of Tullahoma resident's bike
after a crash at this event. Details are unknown, but the
rider was not hurt badly. |
(Photos above courtesy Mike Rutherford)
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June 8, 2003. We had a very good turnout for this Sunday Breakfast
ride - 16 people. We took over 3 tables at the Cracker Barrel in Manchester,
and hopefully did not annoy too many others with our stories and laughter.
May 30, 2003. We rode in the first Tennessee Tandem Rally,
hosted by Tim and Sharon Patterson, in Alcoha, TN ( greater Maryville).
We had a great time, due to the hard work of the hosts. Everything was
well organized, with lots of special steps that left me thinking - "Why
didn't I think of that". They worked hard for the benefit of 100 folks
that attended - some from as far away as California.
On Friday, we did the 1PM ride, that started east of town. We
rode along the Little River, on the other side of the river from the
main highway, to Walland, which is on the west end of Townsend.
At this point, we could have turned around, for a total of 18 miles, but
since the forecast for Saturday was poor, we pressed on with the 36 mile
option. 
It is hard to judge what folks mean about "hilly", and this option was
to take us over a gap, into a valley just on the other side of Cades
Cove. We were towing Brian - our 65 lb payload. Well, the climb
was not bad, and the scenery was great. We stopped at the river, just
inside the Great Smokes National Park, for a rest and to let Brian
stretch his legs. We found that we were some of the last ones in -
we could slowly pass some of the flatland folks who don't get to train
in the hills, but our play stops moved us to last. 
We repeated our tail-end-charlie status every day after that.
During the ride briefing, before the Friday ride, Brian was rearranging
the rocks in the hotel landscaping, and he was soon joined by another
boy Ryan. 
They hit it off quickly. Ryan(4) and his older brother Austin(6) ride with
their parents Tom and Donna on a quad Co-Motion with 2 child conversion
kits. Thereafter, Brian was always looking for and asking "Where
is Ryan?" We played with them a lot but we just could not keep up
on the road. The one time they passed us, Brian started yelling "
pedal harder, pedal harder."
Saturday's forecast was poor - rain and 20-35 mph winds. It turned
out not as bad, just 25-35 mph winds. Looking at the numerous
route options, we decided to do the remote start, that would cut 4.5
miles each way, and allow us to stretch out further to a neat
destination - the Chilhowee dam. I almost had second thoughts when the
crowd gathered for the mass start from the hotel, but we would have been
dropped pretty quickly, on some fairly busy roads.  At
the remote start ( the park which was the lunch stop later) ,the road
out of the park seemed straight up, and it seemed like I got loaded up
on lactic acid right from the start. Then we turned into the wind.
That was tough until we got further out of town, into the rolling hills.
After a while, we started descending to the Chilhowee river , and that
was a little easier. When we rounded the curve, at river level, we
were pushed by a tailwind. We were supposed to follow the river
for some miles, but I thought we don't need to be proceeding so far
downwind ( a lesson from my sailing days), and we turned around at the
boat dock. The quad with the kids went roaring by on their return leg.
We headed back, and after fighting the headwind, got into the climbs.
Later our direction shifted and we had a good tailwind returning to the
park. We made it back 1/2 hr before lunch was over, and ate a
great lunch, provided by our hosts. We rode a massive 39 miles - others
did 110 and went into NC !
Sunday was our last day. The ride options were 25 miles, with a
remote start, or 39 if one started from the hotel. Again, we would
have liked to be part of the mass start, but the hotel checkout time and
our pace dictated the remote start. The remote start was from a park on
the lake.
I tried to outsmart the system, and drove to the remote start early, with
the hopes that the group would come by and we would get to chat with
everyone, but alas, as it turns out, the routes were slightly different,
and we saw few of the faster people. We did cruise in a group of 4 bikes
for quite a while. Although we did not have the big climbs, we had
more short steep pitches. At mile 18, we supposedly were close to a
ranch with camels, lamas, etc, but we missed them.  This
was a pretty route, again with many homes out in the country. I
suspect that much of this area is occupied by folks who work in
Knoxville. Near the end of the route, we frequently rode alongside the
lake, dipping up and down on the rolling terrain. -
Stuart Coulter reporting
May 17th, 2003. Rimmers Assault Mt.
Mitchell Again
By Bob Crook, Road Captain, Touring
Continuing a long tradition, a crew of Highland Rimmers once again
attacked and conquered Mt. Mitchell, the highest point in North
Carolina. The Assault on Mt. Mitchell, organized by the Spartanburg (SC)
Freewheelers, is considered the toughest ride east of the Mississippi.
This year's riders were Melissa Miller, Al Hennigan, Sam Harper, Kevin
Zysk, Mike Rutherford, and Denny Elston. I accompanied them as SAG
support driver. We had the normal good time caravanning to Spartanburg
on Friday, May 16th. Going by way of Knoxville and Asheville, the first
and essential pit stop was at the Crackerbarrel in Cookeville. After
arriving in Spartanburg and checking in at the hotel and at the Assault
Headquarters, the gang headed for the Capri Restaurant (another
long-standing tradition), for a carbo-loading session. The morning of
the ride dawned dry, but the skies shortly opened while the bikes were
being loaded for the ride to the start at the War Memorial. The rain
then persisted all day long with no relief. I had a good look at the
entire group as the ride began. Despite the gloomy and wet conditions,
the sight of all those eager riders as they took off was awe-inspiring.
I traveled to the first SAG stop in Al's mighty impressive BMW X-5 SUV
and got there in time to see the whole pack stream through-very few
stopping. At Marion, NC, the conclusion of the first 72 miles and a
major SAG stop for most riders, the weather was still atrocious. As our
HRBCers straggled in, they each had to decide what to do. Denny and
Kevin, each having successfully climbed the mountain in previous years
and having no need to prove anything, opted to end their efforts right
then, and proceeded eventually back to Spartanburg, warm, dry and
well-fed, while their compatriots were slugging it up the mountain. The
remaining four each decided for very different reasons to continue on
and did so. Sam, the most experienced, with one previous conquest of
Mitchell, added one more notch to his belt. Mike made his agonized way
up the mountain, fighting off his normal cramps, and arrived at the top
next. Melissa, having established only two weeks before that she could
tackle a tough 100-mile ride when she defeated the dreaded Burkhalter
Gap at Chattanooga's Three State, Three Mountain Ride, slowly but surely
rode the Blue Ridge Parkway and the final five miles of the Mt. Mitchell
State Park to finish triumphantly. Al finished last but quite
respectably in abominable conditions at the top. He had only decided to
ride Mitchell two weeks previously and was certainly not over-trained
for the event. At least twice along the Blue Ridge he seriously
considered bailing out and giving his recovering knee a rest. (It goes
without saying that he did not receive permission from his orthopedic
surgeon for this ride.) Indiscretion prevailed, however, and Al did
decide to continue and made it in great adequate style. Mitchell
continues to be a supreme challenge. The route is tough enough in good
weather with 11,000 feet of climb in 102 miles. With weather like last
year (windy and very cold (38ºF)) and this year (reasonably warm but
constant fairly heavy rain with fogged in conditions all along the
Parkway and at the top), the Assault is truly a supreme physical and
mental effort. My congratulations to all! After we all got back together
in Spartanburg, it was a little late to continue our traditional visit
to the Outback so we opted for pizza. This was a tactical error because
while were carousing at the Pizza Hut, the final truck delivered the
bikes and the crew went home, leaving three of our crew without their
beloved machines. Sunday morning all was resolved as we met the event
originator and director, John Bryan, who returned with the missing
bikes. I hope this tale will inspire some of our HBRCers who have never
tried the Assault to give it a try. This is not something that can be
attempted casually, since it is very early in the riding season and
demands plenty of training (Hennigan's example notwithstanding). To
conclude, as Mike Rutherford said as he was lifted half dead and
dripping wet off his bike at the top, "Let's do it again next year!"
May 17th, 2003. Stuart and Jeanie led a ride to Pope's Cafe on
the square in Shelbyville. We try and do this annually, on the
same date as the Mt. Mitchell ride, to give the slow pokes a fun
destination. This year, the weather just about halted the event.
It was raining at dawn, but cleared up in the last half hour before the
7 AM start, so even though the forecast was poor, I felt we had to go
with blue skies overhead. Rebecca and Rick joined us. On the
way we ran into JoAnn and did a little flat repair. We had a good
breakfast at Pope's which fortunately was not too busy, and returned on
the same route which was a good plan since the wind had kicked up from
the storms brewing around us, and was right in our face. A bad
storm arrived about 1/2 hr after we got home, causing damage in town.
We have been attending some of the local, regional
century rides and have had a good time. We teamed up with Bob Crook to
go to both the Murfreesboro HOT 100 on Aug. 24, and the Huntsville
Century on Sept 15th. The ride options on the HOT 100 were
31, 62, and 100. We thought the 31 was too short and 62 too long, so I
looked at the map and picked a road to cut across their long narrow loop
and give us about 50 miles. It turned out that this route was more of
trail than a road, with 2 creek fords (dry), a hill we had to push up
which was so steep on the backside that neither of us could stop.
Fortunately we were going slowly. When we finally got stopped at the
bottom, our rims were too hot to touch. So I guess in the end we
expended as much energy as if we had ridden the 62.
The Huntsville club had a 50 mile option that was what
we were looking for. It rained on us at the beginning, but not enough to
wet the road. The wind was at our backs, and I hoped that it would die
down, but it blew all day long, and the back 25 miles were very tough.
We were all worn out, but luckily, at the end, the route turned back
west and the wind was at our backs.
For those of you trying to find new century rides to
attend next year, each of these are good choices. Each has a post-ride
meal, where we enjoyed talking with folks we see year after year. –
Stuart Coulter reporting
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