Wednesday, September 24, 2025
Dear Marji,
Just a note to express my gratitude for including me in your weekend social function. People don’t send Thank You cards anymore. So sad. When I was young and America was great, everyone sent Thank You cards. The young people have been corrupted by the internet and that Swift woman.
I don’t get out much to socialize anymore other than an occasional Bingo night or power walking at the indoor mall on Thursday mornings. In any event, your bike race sure was fun! With the end drawing near, I am committed to really leaning into the good stuff, to fully value my friendships, to make a concerted effort to be where they are, and to appreciate hanging out with enthusiastic, upbeat people and doing what I enjoy most, like eating Jell-O molds with little grapes in it, journal writing in cursive, and of course riding my bicycle along beautiful trails.
While I am at it, I’d also like to thank a whole bunch of people for making my time in the UP so enjoyable, including Allen, Michelle, Mike, Kate, Ross, Alexandera, Johnny, Big & Little Z, Mason, Jake, Josey, Rudy, Leslie, Al & Kristen, and Todd & Bodee, plus a super nice guy that encouraged me to not be afraid of and to instead, work with and use my dropper-post, he rode a black Specialized, clad in a black jersey, but I can’t remember his name, pretty sure he is a Duluthian…does that help? Of course it doesn’t help ‘cuz everyone at your race party was super nice! It was thrilling to be a part of all of it. However, I’ll admit upfront that Danny’s course took me to school. But remember I am a long time school teacher, I love school, so thanks Marji! Thanks Again.
Yeah, I got schooled on what today’s multitalented riders can do when it comes to pedaling up & down and over super difficult terrain. Topographic features that I had difficulty just walking up and down, presented little resistance to most to the riders flying by me. But I can report that as the day progressed I began to test, even expand my comfort zone. I found myself riding up and down tracks that I would never have considered even a few hours before. Of course, when the rains started, I reverted back into a scared, old man stumbling along. Still Marji, you forced me to push or amplify my skill level. Thank you for that because you have opened up a whole new area of cycling potential to me. Now armed with my new Medicare card and the confidence gleaned from trial and error along your route, I feel like a teenager planning for a whole new life chapter. Not really, but still I do feel like I still have a little bit of time to get better at bike handling.
So thanks to you, Marji, I plan to practice, practice, practice and come back to your party next year and ride more of the hard sections. You have acted as a catalyst for me to improve my mountain bike skills. I appreciate that Marji. Many adults, especially old men, must always be cautious of getting stuck in a rut, or getting set in their ways. Many of my friends say things like, “I am too old to learn that.” Or “Ya can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” No way, Marji! Like Red sez, “get busy living or get busy dying.”
If one is not continually learning and progressing, then what’s the point? To me, to paraphrase some super smart dead guy (I think it was Einstein-who enjoyed riding a bike), the purpose of life is to appreciate and accept the challenge behind the notion that the more one pursues experiential understanding, the more he or she comes to appreciate how much more there is to know, how much more there is to experience. There are no simple answers. Life is not black and white. Us against them is a fallacy, even good versus evil is in most incidences too simplistic. What is certain is that complexity is unavoidable, complexity makes life interesting and reason is a vital ingredient in the unscrambling of complexity, but it is a lofty and probably unapproachable pursuit, still you should try because it leads to learning and learning leads to personal growth. A pursuit of experiential knowledge in the quest for truth is a fundamental tenet of a life well lived. One more thing, be really nervous about leaders that claim to have all the answers, that solutions are simple, and that they are right and everyone else is wrong. That they alone can solve the ills of society. Such decrees are absurd. McNamara, in an important retrospective on his role in the devastating mistakes made by our government’s involvement in the Vietnam war wrote "if we can't persuade nations with comparable values of the merit of our cause, we better reexamine our reasoning.” Sorry Marji, I digress. But hey Marji, now you know what happens when I am alone on my bike for hours and hours.
Oh yeah, Marji, that reminds me, whether it’s all part of your plan or it just happens organically, you must know that your commitment to putting on a really tough race that adheres to a strict code of self sufficiency and self support seemingly backfires on you. What I mean is that your rigid “no support” doctrine in fact has the opposite effect promoting a wonderful communal turn out where citizens are competing with each other to see who can be the most friendly and supportive. Never in my experiences with bike races have I encountered such fun-loving, enthusiastic and helpful support. For example, I hurt my index finger pretty badly a few days before the race. The finger was getting knocked around, thus progressively painful, bloody, and thus in need of attention as I headed into Jackson Park for the first time. I had the materials needed to fix it in my drop bag and had prioritized this task as the first thing to attend to when I got to Jackson Park. Seeing the bandage blood soaked, before I could get off my bike, a team of “unsupported” support folks re-taped it, padded it up using a splint, then adhered it to my other finger, all in just a manner of a few minutes. While the two angels worked on my finger, another ran off with my water bottles and got them filled. Yeah right, Marji, there was no support! I was totally on my own.
Here is another example of the "you're on your own, with no support” creed in manifest: I was worried about my lighting. I had two lights, used for years for long distance night rides on snow and/or gravel, but probably less than adequate given the technical nature of the course. I was worried too that they would not have adequate battery life. I grabbed my drop bag and found that Allen Sandborn had placed his high-end light into my bag. Yeah, he placed his light into my drop bag, to make sure that I had enough lighting heading into the nighttime. As I left the drop bag zone, I hummed “People who need people are the luckiest people in the world…”
Come on Marji, you have to know that they were just wonderfully, brilliantly helpful, these non-supportive friends of yours. Your’s is such a unique event, it says a lot about you, when scores of people come out on their own, I bet it is in the hundreds who show up to give support! Plus how about the great reception at the Blackrocks Brewery? Everyone had a blast and not just on the night before the race. I was there on Wednesday & Thursday nights, and the vibe was already totally welcoming and the October Fest ale was sublime. Marji, you know how to put on a memorable shindig!
As implied above, it is by far the most technical race I have ever done (by this point, I have completed hundreds of races), also the hilliest, containing an elevation gain of over 13,800 feet in just 109 miles! Add in the torrential rain episode about 25 miles from the finish and it was a real challenge for me to just finish it within the time constraint. Soaked and unnerved, having fallen several times (one time injuring my lofty manhood), like a drunken sailor trying to make it back to ship before rollcall, I was hobbling along at this point, a pathetic soul, too unskilled and intimidated to try and ride the extremely steep, greasy trail, plus my shoes and pedals were completely packed full of muddy clay, making staying on the pedals nearly impossible. Marji, I was a mess. So sad. I did resort to cursing Danny, but it seems to exact too much wasted energy, energy needed elsewhere, energy required to keep plodding up the forever steep and slippery hills.
Yeah, Marji, you really tested me. I mean I ain't no spring chicken! I had to really push hard for the last seven miles or so because I could see that I was barely on pace to make it in time to get an official finish! Thankfully the trail became less technical and so I was able to get back on and pedal. For a couple hours, I had been leapfrogging with this amazingly sanguine group, including a few college kids (two youngsters, I think from the U of Michigan graduate school and recent grad from Michigan Tech) and these three older guys. We were totally committed, focused, and encouraging each other. It was so fun, so real, inspiring, and to be honest, emotional. Like my dad used to say when he was having a grand time, “We is livin’!” I thought about Emerson's "Life is a succession of lessons which must be lived to be understood.” I almost teared up at the finish. Hey Marji, thanks for that, I’m serious. This thing is now firmly etched in my conflicted brain.
Coming into the finish, quite relieved, knowing that I would earn an official finish, I thought about a passage from A Farewell to Arms in which the main character, Henry, thinks of all the good people that didn’t make it through no fault of their own. Laying in a hospital bed, barely alive, lucky to be alive, Henry observes that, “The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry.” Of course, Dear Marji, the themes presented in that Hemingway classic are way more important and serious than completing your endurance trial and yet I couldn’t help but think of how there are so many things that can go wrong during your event, forcing much more “brave” and gifted athletes than myself to abandon the race. Allen Sanborn’s race-ending crash is a case-in-point. Yet, it is the uncertainty that makes your event special, and especially worthwhile. In most of the races I participate in, I know, for certain, at the start, that I can finish, that I have the tools to finish. Not so with your race. At your start, I was nervous, I really wanted to finish, to me just a finish constituted a win. With age comes humility. Realistically, I gave myself only about a 60% chance in good conditions and I figured that if it rained, I would be totally screwed. Thankfully the rain came towards the end, which gave me the chance I needed. At the finish line, I thought about Allen Sanborn. A guy that in the past has finished this race in all three modes of travel, but had to pull out this time around due to a hard crash early in the race. I thought about Kristen Wade finishing the Duathon right as the clock ran out. It was an amazing moment! A defining moment! It was such a beautiful thing to watch how proud her husband, Al, was as she finished it up. Al and Kristen Wade, wow! So inspiring. Something I will never forget. When I met them at the Arrowhead 135, I resolved to myself, “This couple is special, I want to be friends with these guyz.” They sure seem like a great team!
Not long after finishing, cozy in my tent, after enjoying a sublime beer generously provided by the wonderful duo of Mike Haag and Michele Flanagan, I acknowledged to myself that I had taken the safer path of least resistance, placing finishing above pursuing a bolder approach and pushing my pace. That is why my legs felt not so bad at the finish. Next time, I want to push harder, maybe go for an under 20 hour finish, but still, I know that I’ll never come close to a buckle, even in my prime, I would never have been close, but that’s okay. I am not one that thinks everyone should get a medal. You with me on this Marji? I bet we can agree on the need to keep the pursuit of the sacred belt buckle only for the most talented. There is no faking it with your race, Marji. No tucking in and hiding out in the peloton, patiently waiting to sprint it out at the finish. The racers that are going for your buckle have to be very skilled, super fit, they have to take risks on scary descents, they have to really push the limits of focused energy output on the long steep climbs. Suffice to submit, it is hard for me to describe how hard your race course is given its length, elevation gain, and abundant technical challenges. For them seeking the buckle just finishing is not good enough. Those guys and gals are really going for it! I really respect those folks. They drive the sport forward.
Yet, for me, I was just so relieved to have made the 25 hour cut off. The finish line was amazing with loads of people cheering! I only made it by something like 22 minutes! There were several that were in our group that missed the cut-off. It really is an amazing event! The whole vibe is really really fun!
Now Dear Marji, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the impressive performances demonstrated by the real racers that attended your get-together, some of whom I have a personal connection with. Whilst the author was in a grim state of fear and loathing, stumbling along the trail in the darkness, the real athletes had finished their efforts long before and were happily telling jokes, reminiscing, and planning future challenges. I am lucky enough to call several of these athletes “good friends of mine!” Including Ross Fraboni, Ryan Zimny, Leslie Semler, Mason Bacso, Jake Torch, and Josey Weik. All of them turned in impressive results.
Ryan Zimny (Little Z) won one of your coveted belt buckles for his 21 hour effort in the Duathon. Ryan’s dad (Big Z) and I taught at Esko High for decades. I remember when Ryan was just a little kid, even then he was demonstrating superior balancing skills. I have been a clutz my whole life, falling off a hobby horse as a toddler earning my first of many head injuries. So for me, a man who struggles just standing on one leg to pull my pants on, to witness the bike handling skills that are second nature to these people is simply otherworldly, ethereal, unimaginable, and of course, unobtainable. I digress. In short, all of these high flyers possess that rare combination of incredible agility and coordination coupled with a big time motor. They also have practiced to develop a consistent and planned out work ethic. A work ethic designed to enhance their physical prowess, as well as to fortify their mental facilities.
Like Ryan, I have known Rosscoe Fraboni since he was a snotty nosed, high school kid. Ross is no one trick pony. With his wife, Kate (she just finished the 50 mile Superior Trail Race), they raise (and race) sled dogs. For the second year in a row, Ross had to deal with, as my mom likes to say, “downstairs problems” throughout his 12.5 hour effort. Ross has barely missed getting one of your buckles on several attempts, but his day will come. Here is a personally sobering thought, Ross had finished while I was still not even half way through it, (Note: Jordan Wakeley won it in less than ten hours!). Once again Ross demonstrates the ability to do it all within a sport that has become quite specialized. Ross is competitive in all facets of the sport. So is Todd McFadden by the way. Todd rode the 50 miler with his son Bodee. Todd is the proud owner of one of your belt buckles.
In closing, Dear Marji, you advertise your gathering as totally unsupported, the uninitiated visualize a desperate affair where one is forced to suffer alone. The loneliness of the long distance cyclist. Yet, somehow, someway, unaffiliated groups crash your party and set up support stations where they want to and so what happens is that all these groups show up and it turns into a huge party of amicable, altruistic, good Samaritans. There were a bunch of groups of college kids, bike clubs, running clubs, and the like that were totally partying it up all along the route. It was really fun! It makes me smile just thinking about it. At one point, alone, it was very very late into the race, I came off a single track onto a remote gravel road, where inexplicably these buoyant, funloving young people had set up a big tent and were totally dancing up a storm to 1970s disco music. It was so amazing, it made me so happy, momentarily forgetting all my troubles.
Well Marji, that’s about it. Again thank you and I hope we can meet again. It’s gonna be tough to get an invite for next year because the sign-up falls on the day after the Arizona Trail Race 800 commences, so I’ll be in the desert environs of southern Arizona seeking clarity through heat exhaustion, far from any internet source. Though, I kinda feel like where there is a will there is a way, so I am hopeful.
Best Regards,
Charlie
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