Done!!

Wow. It's over. Early this morning they bussed us two hours up from the Dead Sea to the Elah Valley (our "neighborhood", and where I trained a lot). We spend the day on three separate loooong climbs, joined by the one-day riders and the 10 "Fast and Courageous" kids from ALYN and their volunteer riding partners, who were all amazing. After about three and a half of cumulative hours (plus lunch and a pit stop to catch our breath), we gathered on the road a few kilometers from the hospital, and rode together with a police escort over smooth asphalt (what's that?!) and into the hospital. The family was there cheering with a massive crowd, and it was... over! I got a medal from one of the families who have a child at ALYN, and went in to a touching closing ceremony.

Before adding some pictures below, here are a few closing thoughts I had:

1. Gray (or white!) hair under the helmets. Once again, I was truly inspired by the number of 60+ riders. These guys, when not discussing grandchildren, were tearing through trails at the same speed as 20-30 year olds, and some have been doing it for over 10 years. Just a reminder that old age doesn't need to slow you down. Might make you crazy enough to do something like this, but...
2. Physical activity really is what you're built for. I had almost chronic back pain for a month and a half, and it's now... gone. Riding a bike over pretty treacherous terrain for 5 days doesn't sound like what the doctor ordered, but the human body likes to be in motion, I guess. "Taking it easy" and popping Advil did nothing for me. I'm actually going to try setting up a standing desk, because I’m convinced that sitting all day contributes to back pain...  Oh, and I'm 5 pounds lighter, which is kinda cool.
3. It's not all about today, or all about the ride. The ALYN hospital does such amazing work that it's not just a matter of the generous sponsorships - it's also about getting the word out. Hopefully you saw my video clip where I talk briefly about the work they do. We heard at the Gala that one rider, who had a friend sponsor him 5 times in a row, just heard from that sponsor that he has allotted $750,000 in his will for the hospital because of the work they are doing. 
4. The cheerleading makes a difference. I told many of my sponsors that I'd be adding their voices to the ones in my head pushing me along... and I really did. There were times when my body had no more to offer -- when I'd look out to a hilltop way ahead and way up, and see the lead riders there, knowing I'd need to make my way up there too. I really pictured you all standing there at the base of the mountain, telling me I could do it. And it made a radical difference. Hard to explain it any better. I felt like you did you part, so I had to do mine. Only fair. Together, we raised almost $4,000. That buys a LOT of help at AYLN.

And now I need to recognize my greatest cheerleader, Dena. Not only has she been supportive since the minute I began this pursuit last year, but she made sure that I never felt guilty for leaving her and the kids for a week. Even better, she watched me "from the sky" using GPS tracking on my phone, and would periodically send me texts like "Wow, that looked that terrible terrain" or "Must be nice to rest after climbing so long" or simply, just as we pulled into the parking lot in the evening... "You made it another day!". I can't tell you what that feels like, especially, as I mentioned, because I'm never at the front of the pack, nor at the end. I didn't ride alongside the same consistent people even when I was near them... the pack shifts non-stop. So all in all, I felt very alone much of the time. With Dena keeping tabs, I almost felt like I had a tandem bike (though a second pedaler would have been nice!) It's ridiculous for me to try to express my gratitude for the tone that she set for this ride...I was blessed to get through this without injury (and there were SO many opportunities) and without flat tires (SO many of those, every hour of every day), but most importantly, to come home to her.

And now... the pix:

Riding into ALYN. The grin started 5 minutes before and stayed 10 minutes more.

Getting my medal from one of the ALYN families. 

It must be hard for them to be part of the "celebration"... obviously, they'd prefer not to need to be there. But it's all about them, and we all know it very well and talk about it often during the week.

Closing ceremony.

So I'll close by once again thanking you all for participating in the incredible experience, changing the lives of kids who in other countries/circumstances, would live each day in despair, pain and frustration, instead of love, independence and... hope.  If bringing you together for "Team Jay" is what it takes from my part to help them, I'm ready to sign up for next year! Oh, and don't worry -- I'm definitely upgrading to a more professional bike, but I'm not taking up a collection for that!)

Rock slush and quicksand.

Today's ride, the final of the "pure" off-road days, was the retroactive inspiration for the title of this blog. We spent the morning running through a canyon, but we didn't ride through its base because that was a riverbed filled with loose rocks and sand. Instead, we rode along very narrow trails dug out of the cliffs for miles on either side of the canyon. The problem was that the topography required that we traversed from one side of the canyon to the other every 10 minutes or so, climbing up to the left side trail and then up the right wall, over and over, cutting through the sand and shale each time. This stops your bike in its tracks. Trying to ride through it is possible, but if you don't make it it sometimes gets ugly when you fall over her somebody bumped into you from behind. I don't think I've had to get off my bike so many times within two hours this entire ride. 

After lunch, while tackling an incredibly sharply inclined rise (we called him walls), my chain actually broke and the mechanics truck just happened to be about 20 m behind me. We threw the bike into the truck and they drove me up the remaining three walls, which I can't say I am sorry about missing :-). At the top they replaced the link in my chain in about two minutes and I was off again. I consider myself very lucky that that's the only mishap I've had mechanically. People are getting flat tires left and right, and I can only assume that maybe not being up front in the pack means that everybody else has already flattened or absorbed all of the thorns and other stuff that gets people flats. Not of a lot of fun to have to stop on the side and change your tire.

 Anyway, then came a very long and very steep descent toward the Dead Sea through some incredibly stunning views (I took some video clips with another camera that I will put together at the end of this week) and then another canyon that looked very much like the ones I remember from our trips to Arizona and Nevada and New Mexico when I was a kid. Again, the trails themselves now turned into slate and crushed rock which was very tough to grab traction on, especially while you're looking around at the magnificence that nature head stuck there in every direction. 

All in all, it was certainly a challenging day, but so different than the other days so far, that it was a rush. We are now at a hotel in the Dead Sea (I think I just had the world's best shower, after primitive outdoor showers at our campground yesterday which pretty much means two days of dust and sweat built up.) for the closing gala event (there is a special award ceremony where people who have been on the ride five years or 10 years or 15 years get special jackets, etc.) before the ride up to Jerusalem tomorrow Oh, not from here-- They are bussing us up to the Elah Valley first, which is much more my turf, so that should be fun, where we join like 500+ other people who were riding with us for the day, including 10 kids from the hospital who have been rehabilitated from incredibly tragic accidents, surgeries and medical conditions and have been training for many months to ride with us on tandems, regular bikes, and handbikes. Should be quite an experience. If you have just four minutes, please watch this video about one of the girls who is going to be riding. It will blow your mind.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=q_XVINhYU_E&ytsession=3PQgh04-Vz6R5JeH9FeLcim9qpFt30yW0EIlaZdJsZ5wZECZM1LapW7FCcwUWt-ezVo58Y1JWLNyC3mwah333aq97IBhhYpeLFPd_yJkB_7vcRnVZCb0NmujR-_3dUGbTEBgMf1cKQx_nvCd5JjnObbPv-r8AnUYWBW5wButrhMXCvuIpB9LsMQf_AcO199hsp0_bPle4zHPo3Oadxxo3HND2gvLh6tI4otPKM7-ScKhot66jT62q-eXisVWvFjpQLoQZu_maExPqpBgqWx0X0mefbrkPmG1CrZnTNU0HTkLLGvCv3BqOC4vdSgSG0fvpuyDre3cQls&feature=youtu.be

 

Canyyyyyyon!

NToday we tackled a series of long, winding mostly downhill canyons (expect for a couple of sharp climbs, one of which was vaguely similar to those crazy YouTube videos of insane cliff-hugging paths). Instead of a challenge of endurance and stamina to climb uphill, the challenge was to maintain speed while rushing over bumps, rocks and sand, which actually stop your bike. 

And it was 5-10 degrees cooler, made a big difference. 

This was definitely the day when it became clear I need to upgrade my bike. I have what's called a hard-tail, which is basically the kind you know...a rigid frame with shocks on the front. A full suspension bike basically has a shock absorber built into the frame to absorb the bumps. I need that. Big time. I've also got 26 inch tires, and the bigger 29 inchers just cover more ground.  

Anyway, the morning flew by and we had covered 38 km before I knew it. After lunch we had an optional 10 km single loop, which I did, because hey - can't let down my sponsors! Then we headed out to the campground where we had a two hour long happy hour (traditionally everyone brings a bottle) where people took turns talking about  what the ride means to them, their experiences with the hospital, toasts to others for accomplishing things, etc. Then dinner and a campfire and now I'm lying in my tent, ready to crash. 

Now is a good enough time to fess up and tell you that I had some serious on and off lower back pain over the past month. I didn't go to a doctor because I knew that whatever the diagnosis, part of the instructions would be to keep away from vigorous exercise. Not only would the ride be in jeopardy, but I wouldn't be able to train, which amounts to the sAme thing. Well... Not only doesn't it hurt wen I ride, but since the first day the pain is getting less and less. It seems that in essentially stretching it all day, which is somehow therapeutic. WhatEVER!  I won't complain. Just hoping that by the time I send this in the morning when we get back to a reception area, I won't be stiff again from lying on the hard ground all night!

Update! Found a A spot above the campsite with reception so I get to send this out now. Sleeping in the tent was terrible, so they gave me the most Snorry roommate I've ever had. Earplugs blocked out about half and I finally made it to sleep.

Powering through. Oh,and more sand.

The day started with a dilemma: either a long treck uphill on a paved road or a slightly shorter one on a single (a bike path that's about a foot wide, designed for a single rider at a time.) The single won out, just because I figured it'd be an experience, and it was a killer. Uphill and rocks combined are never pleasant, and adding in the desert heat didn't help. The rest of the morning, until lunchtime, was a fairly steady uphill trek. I find myself riding alone much of the time, because while I've been training steadily enough not to embarrass myself, I'm by no means one of these hardcore hotshots who lead the pack, stop for nothing, and get bored when the road flattens out. I'm sort of dead center, often with nobody in sight ahead or behind. If you've ever seen Breaking  Bad, filmed in New Mexico with hundred of miles of nothing, you get the idea. The trails are well marked, so it's just a question of pumping away. The last two hours were a more reasonable flat ride, thank goodness. We were greeted at the Mitzpeh Ramon crater lookout with cold beers, which was wonderful. 

Tonight we were hosted by an officers training army base, and ALYN introduced us to the 10 kids with varying levels of disability, who will be riding with us (regular bikes, tandems and hand pedaled) on the final day. They have been training for months, paired up with other riders on the trip who have given their time to help encourage these kids and get them into shape. When the kids got up on the stage there were many non-dry eyes in the house. 

Anyway, tomorrow night we camp out In sleeping bags somewhere... No electricity or reception, so I will post again the next night. 

So, so, so tired. Going to sleep at 9.30 again, to try to recuperate :-)

Nothing but sand

Wow. I have shockingly little to say. The desert is hot. And dry. And rocky. And sandy. And it kind of goes on forever.

I'm assuming that the next four days are going to involve some more variety because the novelty of pushing really hard through 35 km of barren open space may get a little bit boring :-) It's certainly majestic and the views are breathtaking, but it's all so featureless...makes it a bit too easy to focus instead on the physical challenge and the test of endurance to keep moving. (There were for a couple of first-timers who are definitely wondering what they got themselves into.) We rode to the highest point in the desert today, and then down the other side of the moutain, a fast and aggressive ride the challenged even the most experienced riders. Tomorrow is supposed to be uphill all day, but fairly gradual and steady. Tuesday and Wednesday are all flat and downhill, which would be terrific. I'm just kind of hoping there will be more to see then, well, just desert.