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We did it! In April I posted about my Colgate University class’s campaign to raise $50,000 to endow a scholarship in honor of our classmate, Dr. Tonya Gscheidle Henderson ’98. I asked for your support, pledging in turn to ride my bike 113 miles.

Not only did I raise more than my $1300 goal, as a whole we have raised over $52,000. In June the fund became an official endowed scholarship. It will have its first recipient this fall.

Thank you. Whether you shared social media posts, donated financially, or sent positive thoughts, your support made this happen. My classmates and I are incredibly grateful.

On Thursday morning, Tonya’s 45th birthday, I started my ride in Schenectady. It was the best weather the east coast had seen in a month; I don’t know how I pulled that off. My biking buddy, Susan, joined me for the first 25 miles, which made that portion go by quickly. We took the Erie Canal path. With all the rain we have had lately, the water was crashing through the locks.

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  Lock 8

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The Sprakers Reformed Church offers their building as a “comfort station.” I was grateful for the clean restroom and the bottled water.

I saw a variety of animals along the trail: three deer, two groundhogs, a small snake, a turkey, a handful of rabbits, and while going by a farm, some really big pigs.

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  Sprakers Reformed Church

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  Mmm…bacon

The biggest obstacle occurred around Herkimer. I knew there was a chance part of the trail would be unpaved. Indeed there was. Without warning, the surface changed from pavement to stone dust. This is a step above sand, and not something you really want to ride on with skinny road bike tires. I was looking forward to my next turn, but when I glanced to see where I was supposed to go, all that was in view was a muddy hill. Without a mountain bike and/or hiking boots, there was no way I was tackling that. The turn was supposed to be a short cut. Even though I was afraid continuing straight would add a few miles, that was clearly the better option. Miraculously, it didn’t add any significant mileage.

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  Herkimer House: Not on the initial itinerary

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When I initially planned the ride, I was going to get off the canal trail around Ilion. I later adjusted that, deciding to continue on to Utica. From there it would be local roads. It was therefore a big deal as I approached the city line. There were some nice areas of the city. This, however, was not one of them.

I was slowing down at this point. I was tired, a little sore, low on water, and had reached the uphill portion of the program. I invited my father, also a Colgate alum, to join me for the last 13 miles. I was running late, so he met me at the 97 mile mark. After having ridden 72 miles alone, it was incredibly comforting to see him. Our paces are different enough that we didn’t really ride together for those final 16 miles. But between knowing he was there, and being on the home stretch, I got enough of a second wind to power through.

By the time I reached Lake Moraine Road, I was on autopilot. I could see the campus from afar, and felt at home.

Nine hours after departing, I reached 113.8 miles as I coasted along the pathway to East Hall. Darcie Leach Loveless ’98, Associate Director of Stewardship, greeted me with a huge smile and a hug. She brought swag, and I felt like I was on the Tour de France podium.

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Somehow, despite the fatigue and sore muscles, the experience was amazing.

Class of ’98 and Class of ’72: An Alumni Event

Videos

My camera only has four hours of battery life, so I couldn’t record the entire ride. Believe me, you wouldn’t want to watch that much anyway! There are three options below: short, medium, and long. I recommend watching these with the sound off. Most of what you hear is the camera rattling.

Frank Dining Hall to East Hall (1:22)

Oak Drive to East Hall (5:26)

Colgate Inn to East Hall (8:54)

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One Hundred Two

Around this time last summer, I decided I needed a new bicycling goal. It had been over a year since I surpassed my goal of biking to work every day for a year. For the past few summers I’ve aimed to (and reached or exceeded) ride 100 miles a week in July. And while there are certain hills I look forward to incorporating into my routes each season, and particular roads I enjoy returning to, without a goal it sometimes feels as though I’m merely going around in circles.

While I do accumulate many miles each year, I am not fast and have no desire to race. As I see it, this leaves me with repetition and distance. Cue Kevin Costner in Field of Dreams and the voice saying, “Go the distance.”

Each summer I manage to do at least one 50-miler. Occasionally I have done a 60 mile ride. I’m fairly certain that at some point I said I would never do a century, but it was starting to feel right. A century for cyclists is about what a marathon is for runners. I’ve been at this for a while; it seemed to be time.

I had certain parameters, though. There are many supported century rides to select from, but they don’t have rain dates. While I’m willing to ride less than three miles to work in the rain, I have no desire to pay for a ride and then be in wet spandex for dozens of miles. Many of those rides also have a fundraising component, and that is not for me. Did I want to invite someone to ride with me? Sure, it would have been nice to have someone along to chat with, to help change a flat tire if necessary. However, I didn’t want anyone struggling to keep up with me, nor did I want to struggle to keep up with anyone else. More importantly, the date chosen for the ride needed to be a date when my body, with its various and sundry limitations, was ready. I wanted to reach my goal without hurting myself in the process. I concluded it was best to ride alone.

Where did I want to ride? I could start at home (another advantage to riding alone) and ride round trip to the Connecticut shore, or do a loop in the central part of the state. At some point I decided I wanted something more adventuresome than repeating the roads I’ve been riding for two decades. I wanted to make it an event; to start at home and go in one direction or another for 100 miles.

Sitting in a coffee shop one winter day, I shared these thoughts with a good friend. How we got from my “I want to ride 100 miles in one direction” to her “my family’s house is 100 miles from here,” I no longer remember. But between then and now I spent copious hours on mapping websites, calculating any number of possible routes between Chez CyclingArchivist and the Homestead of the Family W (century routes – one, two, three – and 50 mile routes for the area where I’d be riding are publicly available).

The goal was set.

I found a training plan that would be a good model for me. When spring arrived, I started pedaling. As spring became summer we started discussing dates. The chosen date made its appearance in the 10-day forecast, sunny at first, then progressively rainier. At the 11th hour we postponed from Tuesday to Thursday.

Thursday morning arrived and the weather was perfect. The ride itself was better than I had imagined. The Connecticut portion was quite familiar. I had tried out the segment between Lake Congamond and Northampton, MA once before. The rest was entirely new. The Connecticut River Valley in Hadley was green with ripening corn, with equally colored,  tree-covered hills in the distance.  Move over Filet Mignon, the first protein bar I ate, at almost 39 miles in, was the most delicious food I’d ever encountered. I’m pretty sure that was situational. An employee of the Sunderland Corner Store generously let me use the sink to refill a water bottle. The one portion of trail I wasn’t sure actually existed, was in fact in place, and was followed by one of the more unusual buildings I’ve seen in a while.

Your guess is as good as mine.

Back along the river, Turners Falls provided a scenic snack break, my second of three.

Protein bar with a view.

I sent a selfie to my co-workers when I crossed the Vermont state line.

Say cheese!

At that point I still had over 20 miles (uphill!) left to ride, but it was an accomplishment nonetheless. My penultimate stop was a photo-op with the West Dummerston Covered Bridge.

Longest covered bridge entirely in VT.

A few more miles of climbing, and I was there.

My bike computer was set to display the number of miles left to ride. I tried not to read it too often, but it surprised me how the numbers seemed to melt away. 89! 49! 34, I can do that after a full day of work! 17! 2.9, that’s my commute to work; think how quickly you get down Park Street!

Yay, I made it!

I arrived with a smile on my face. I didn’t get lost, or have any mechanical issues. Perhaps I should have had more water, but I wasn’t parched. Mentally, the last seven miles were toughest. But I made it.

Total mileage: 102.11 Moving time: 7:11:38 Elapsed time: 8:15:37

My friend had driven up just to meet me and bring me back home. When I first discussed this with her, I’d envisioned meeting her there at the end of one of her stays. I never expected she would travel all that way for me. After I got cleaned up, we enjoyed some time on the porch and walked around the property (the house is amazing, and there’s some manuscript material I’d love to see some day). We had burgers at a local restaurant, then drove back home.

Two days later I remain elated. My training had been effective. I accomplished another goal, on a beautiful day with a spectacular route. And I enjoyed the absolute best of friendship.