Atlanta to Athens....again and again and again

It's that time of year again. The Multiple Sclerosis 150 from Atlanta to Athens, back to Atlanta.

The ride started Saturday in absolute downtown Atlanta, weaved through the various and sundry cities, mixed with narrow streets, road construction, bad drivers, and a full moon, to name a few obstacles. Within 15 miles the riders are farther into rural areas and aren't as harrowed, but that is a long 15 miles. I can barely survive it on the motorbike, I wouldn't want to attempt it on a bicycle. Then these riders headed out through the bucolic country side for another 65 or 85 miles to reach the little college town of Athens, GA.

If yesterday didn't do them in, they hit the start line and ride right back to downtown Atlanta the next day.

Needless to say, there are usually far fewer riders on Sunday than were present on Saturday. (And I don't blame them at all!)

The motorcycle marshals don't start downtown. We pick the riders up about 8 miles out. They get a police escort a portion of the way and don't need us getting in the way. But the police don't make any bones about when they stop the escort. We heard cyclists saying their absence was abrupt. Farther along they may not get an escort, but key intersections are manned by police or sheriff's that stop traffic for the larger groups of cyclists.

Our job as marshals isn't to stop traffic or escort the cyclists anywhere. We ride the route, faster than a cyclist, but generally slower than traffic, or posted speed limits, to keep an eye on the cyclists and help if they have any troubles. The most likely troubles are flat tires, broken spokes, derailed chains. We hope to never have to encounter a cyclist that hits something and is injured, or far worse, is hit by something and is injured. We have plans in place in the event that these are encountered, we just don't want to encounter them.

This years event was completely without events...with the cyclists.

Unfortunately, participation has dwindled each of the three years that Oilburner and I have been involved. (No, I don't believe there is a correlation there!) This event has only been in place for three years. So I can't say why participation is decreasing. I surmise it might be due to the location. I can't say that I would love to ride through downtown Atlanta, nor some of the outlying cities. Would participation increase if the start/end point was somewhere else?

I would have thought so, until I spoke with a rider Sunday morning that remarked on more cage drivers being more tolerant this year, thinking more drivers are becoming more aware of cyclists. Do events like these bring more awareness of cyclists (and possibly motorbikes)? Is it worthwhile to force the interaction, hoping nothing bad happens, to make ourselves (as bi-cyclists overall) more visible?

I'm just not sure of an answer to that.

I'm not going to say this is old hat for us. This was our fifth time volunteering as marshals for MS rides. We have progressively gained more experience overall, as well as increased our bag of tricks for what is needed or how to handle situations.

The big news is that this year we both received our HAM radio licenses (Amateur Radio). This was going to take our involvement to a new level. In past years communication had to occur through cell. Given where some of the routes took us cell coverage could be a bit sparse or command central could be busy with calls. Therefore, it could be difficult to contact the control dispatchers (Net Control) if we had a rider that needed to be picked up, or worse yet, had an emergency.

With our HAM radios we could just dial into the proper frequency and speak directly with Net Control. And even listen in to all of the chatter traffic. A few other marshals have their licenses, but all Support and Gear (SAG) vehicles have a driver and radio operator in the vehicle (two separate individuals). There is tight communication across the course of where the first riders are located along the route, to notify break points of when they should be ready. Or where the absolute last rider is on the course, since the Turtle van is right behind them. Or when another SAG is needed to pick up a rider that doesn't want to continue, needs a lift to the next break point that has a mechanic, all sorts of contingencies. Amateur Radio allows all of the people to be connected with each other to run as a tight unit and facilitate the event as a whole. You aren't going to get that if everyone is calling in to talk with operators on cell phones.

This year Oilburner and I get to be part of the "IN" crowd. We get to listen in, and participate when needed.

Right out of the gate the level of involvement was great! I took the first shift on the route when the first cyclists started to pass. As I was hitting every single stoplight I was able to call Net Control and have them inform my leads to spread the next marshal back farther than our original 10 min schedule. I wasnt going to get anywhere in 10 minutes, so the next marshal didn't need to get that close.

We were able to listen in when support vans were fending off loose dogs. In one instance, there was a request for a motorcycle marshal to sit with the dogs as the support van was needed to pick someone up on the course.

We learned when someone messed with the route signs. New signs were needed quickly. And oversight was needed when the second set of signs was removed.

I was able to inform Net Control the location of SAG #6, because it had just passed me. (The one support van that didn't have a radio operator on Sunday.) I was then dispatched to chase it down and tell it to phone into Net Control as it was desparately needed to pick up a cyclist. That was a fun one as I bent a few rules of the road to catch the van.

We were all on hand to listen to the Turtle van call in to report that it had stayed on the primary course, while the actual turtle cyclist had taken the Century route. (The Century refers to the 100 mile route.) We all got to hear the radio silence just before Net Control asked them to repeat. ;)

With so few attendees this year the riders were either bullet fast, finishing by 12:30, or turtle slow, coming across the finish line between 5 and 6. There wasn't much of an in between. It was the same thing on Sunday. There were large gaps between groups or riders, spreading thin, leaving us with very little job to perform. I was actually stopped by more non-involved cyclists, asking me what was going on, and sheriff's, asking me where everyone was, than I was by cyclists actually needing help!

We had been obsessing about the weather all week. I was hoping for intermittent rain showers since the temps were supposed to be in the 80's F. It would cool things of a little bit. And the weather patterns toyed with me as the predictions varied every day. Unfortunately the actual day of events say high 80's to low 90's with absolutely no rain. Of course, this had to be the hottest weekend that we have seen here this year. Murphy seems to be working overtime.

In all this was an extremely uneventful weekend. No accidents, no injuries, no flats. Many miles, many smiles, much sweat and some great people to ride with.

I took exactly four pictures the entire weekend. They were all the same shot and this was the best. ;)

 

 

Getting Lei'd, Running Sheriffs blockades and Slapping a Cop

It was an eventful weekend.  And I emerged relatively unscathed without an arrest record or moving violation.  I was pursued.  But it was a low speed chase and they didn't have a chance of catching me.  Couldn't catch me even on the downhills.

I am surprised their cheers didn't wake the neighbors.  And that is taking into account that the neighbors were not big party people.  They were generally very quite, laid back people.  Tough as granite and quiet as the grave.

 

Neighbors can be seen in the background on the left.

My third time through I stopped and told them how much their cheers and enthusiasm were appreciated.  They draped my bike with leis.  They may have been plastic, but the spirit with which they were given were sincere.  They were here to help and motivate and took their jobs seriously.  There wouldn't be anyone else like them.

 One time, while waiting for a red light to turn green and allow me on my way, a sheriff coming from my left turned left to travel in the direction I was headed, only to turn on his lights, make a u-turn and sit across the intersection from me.  The traffic light finally turned green and I started on my way.  You may not believe it is possible, but we made eye-contact through two pairs of sunglasses.  The connection between us was unbreakable as he pointed two fingers at me.  Then flipped his hand over and folded his fingers in a "come here" motion that could not be denied.  Mr. Oilburner will find it incredible that someone could summon me in this manner.  But I actually did obey.  I promptly executed my own u-turn and stopped next to this bastion of enforcement.

I pulled up to another intersection where another sheriff's car was parked.  He was out of it and walking towards me when he saw me approach.  I pulled up next to him and started to talk.  You know how difficult communication can be through a full face helmet, so he was having a little difficulty understanding me and I was having to talk loudly.  Then we had a Zsa Zsa Gabor episode where my hand just kinda reached out and slapped him.  He was quite gracious during the episode and didn't even reach for his sidearm.  Whew!  Then he let me just ride away, where I stopped across the intersection and just watched him.

Elsewhere throughout the day I blatantly blew through police blockades.  Sometimes I made eye contact.  Sometimes I didn't.  But they never turned their backs to me.

It was a grand weekend of law breaking, helping and heat exhaustion.  The damn weather was so helpful by giving us a grueling weekend of 92+F degree temps (33C) when people were out killing themselves either pedaling bicycles 80 or 100 miles, depending on the route.  The marshals were fully clothed in black armor on shiny steeds to save the day when we could.  (The sheriffs pointed out that they were in Kevlar vests and polyester...)  Our steeds shined and we would have glistened if your eyes could have penetrated the shaded lenses of our helmets.  If you looked closely you could see the rivers of sweat flowing down our necks before it disappeared under the collar of our jackets.  I expect it might have appeared like sun sparkling on the wavelets in a lake.

The FedEx volunteers manning checkpoint two would have been better at checkpoint five.  At checkpoint two cyclists were still fresh and it was early.  These enthusiastic volunteers were needed at the end of the day when people were questioning their sanity in attempting to ride a bicycle between Atlanta and Athens in the Georgia Foothills.  Especially the damn hill that the riders were calling "The Widow Maker."

I had to agree with one cyclists observation that whenever there was a sign on the course notifying them that the next break point was a mere mile away, there was invariably a ball buster climb in between the sign and destination.  It's only noticeable on the motorbike when you see the cyclist walking up the hill or stading on the pedals and still only crawling along at 1 mph.  Three cyclists that I spoke with over the course of the weekend were also motorbike pilots.  And they all posited that next year they might volunteer to be a motorcycle marshal instead.  Yes, we marshals were volunteering to be under these brutal conditions.  But these cyclists had to raise money for the privilege of abusing themselves on this course.  My deepest admiration to them.  There was a time in my life when I would have cycled that course with them.  But that time has passed.

---

In all it was a great weekend. 188 cyclists, the pedal-powered kind, showed up to raise money for Multiple Sclerosis.  We averaged 16 motorcycle marshals.  Some working all weekend, others coming for Saturday or Sunday work.  No marshals were hurt.  There was a moderate accident among the cyclists when some no-account resident switched route signs and sent quite a few cyclists down a route that turned to gravel.  Accounts differ, but even if the worst account was true the situation only resulted in a broken collarbone.

I came the closest I have come yet to dropping my bike as I tried to coast backward into a sloped driveway.  I was trying to get safely off the roadway and course and out of cyclists way before calling a support van for someone too hot to continue.  I am particularly grateful to the powers that be that helped me keep the strength in my big toe that allowed me to save the bike (and myself) from a spill that would have turned the bike not just on its side, but absolutely upside down, and tumbled me into a large patch of poison ivy.

This year the course was very long.  This year we had the responsibility of patrolling the entire course, both days.  Last year our group was only responsible for half.  I can say that I saw neighborhoods in downtown Atlanta that I never knew existed.  Some of that is good and some is bad.  I can't believe the route really went through such down and out neighborhoods and other savagely congested streets.  I sincerely thank the cops that stopped traffic for all the cyclists and generally allowed me to scoot behind the bicycles and get through some intersections that I would otherwise still be sitting at.

This year seemed to have better prepared riders on the whole.  Last year I gave out tons of bananas and liters of water.  This year no one wanted anything but a lift in the support van, and that was also rare.

I feel grateful to have offered a bit of support for people working for a good cause.

And by-the-way, the sheriff that summoned me asked me to contact control since he couldn't get through.  A cyclist needed a support vehicle back along the route.  And the sheriff that I slapped?  He had a large spider crawling on his shoulder.  He was grateful that I had spotted and removed it.

Remember, cops are our friends.  :)

This weekend occurred May 21 and 22, 2011.  I am late in posting, and decided to go ahead without the video.  More images can be seen at Flickr for the Multiple Sclerosis weekend.

Motorcycle Marshaling for Multiple Sclerosis... part 2

I know better and yet I still do it. I post and then relax.  Now I have lost my rhythm and train of thought.  Hopefully I haven't forgotten much of the day.  :-)  I do appreciate your patience for bearing with me as I try and get back into the feel.

Sunday dawned slightly cooler than Saturday.  But the humidity was still pretty high, made that much worse with the slightly cooler temps.  We were still on our 6 AM track for breakfast and discussed our roles for the day.  Sunday sees a reprieve for the riders (moto and free wheel) with only two routes to choose from: the 35 mile and the 65 mile.  We don't need the three separate marshaling groups, so two groups have been combined to cover the 65 mile route.

Again, we line up in front of the bicycle riders in preparation of the starting countdown.

The crowds are gathering...

My position in our posse

We're ready to go

The hiccup today comes with the double countdown for the bicyclists to start.  It seems the marshal at the front of the pack couldn't quite hear the countdown and didn't take off at the appropriate time.  So the countdown had to begin again...  The rest of us marshals, in our enthusiasm, repeatedly laid into our horns trying to spur the front motorbikes on.  It eventually worked and we were all under way.

Our group was again assigned to the 65 mile route.  So the two groups rode to the second break point together.  It seemed like an incredibly long distance even though the speedometer was showing 20 miles.  The slightly chilly temperatures promoted ground fog along sections of the route that created this illusion of moving without going anywhere.

The route was quiet and I hoped the church going crowd wouldn't give our riders too much of a problem.  While most of the roads were wide there wasn't much space beyond that white line.  I guess I needn't have worried too much considering how the pedalers took up the lanes yesterday.  :-)

Waiting for the train

 The rest of the group

We reached the break point in good order, trying to figure out how to corral two teams into one well oiled surveillance machine.  I guess we needn't have worried about that.  Our leaders were informed that 90%  of the riders were taking the short route.  One of our groups needed to be reallocated to the 35 mile route.  That was us!  Ready for the challenge...no maps, no clue, but point us in the right direction!!  :-)

Come on, that is one good looking motorbike.  
(And that GQ looking guy in the background too...)

We hit the road following the actual route to reach the location where it spilled back into the shorter route.  I was amazed to see so many cyclists when we reached the merge location!  And it again turned into a "wait 5 minutes before the next person leaves" situation.  So our little posse sat at the intersection and slowly moved onto the roads to haunt the bicyclists.  

Early morning, short ride, cooler temps and there weren't too many problems on the roads.  More broken pedals, no cell coverage and the like, but the work was shorter and easier today.  No one wanted water or bananas.  It was easy!  I learned my lesson from yesterday and sat at the finish line for a couple minutes and munched some trail mix.  Then hopped onto the road to continue my duties.  Did I mention that it was an easy day?

I ran into my favorite couple a few miles from the finish line.  I kick myself every time I think about it, wishing that I had ridden them in, in a blaze of power, horn honking and blinding lights to signify what they had accomplished.  But I also carried some ice for a gentleman that was going to partake of some beverages at the finish line. 

Everything was wrapping up by 1 PM.  And we were given the choice of eating lunch in the pavilion with the riders...or going back to the last break point and enjoying some freshly barbecued hamburgers.  Seems like someone has been showing his appreciation by grilling some hamburgers for the riders at this last spot.  And boy were they delicious!!  (No pictures...too good to stop eating and fetch the camera.)

Roadkill Armadillo counting...netted two over my left shoulder...

Nothing left for us but to strike out for home.  We had offered to ride another member back into metro Atlanta and we tried to take the back roads for a majority of the distance.  It was a great weekend that was drawing to a close...

I learned a few lessons along the way this time:

• bicyclists tend to want more water and bananas on Saturday  (and cold bananas are well received)
• keeping yourself hydrated and nourished is extremely important - either put an hydration bladder in the back of my jacket or mount my camel back on the pelican case for easy access
• definitely benefit from a modular helmet on this ride to communicate with bicyclists and to eat/drink  (I am not fond of modular helmets, so would only wear it on these occasions)
• the saddle bags are handy, but having a cooler of some type strapped to the passenger seat makes access much easier.  Need a balance of size vs. internal space.
• need my accessory pack of tape, sharpie, first aid kit put together before each ride
• pester the leaders before the ride weekend for the break down of routes and print on small cards to laminate and put on lanyards.  (Previously we had contact phone numbers, which was invaluable!  Now it is also a good idea to put the route here too.)
• CB or Ham radio (license) is beneficial for communicating directly with leaders or event organizers...especially when cell coverage is spotty!!
• keep cool (in the summer) with a watered down hanky or one of those silicon beaded neckerchiefs
• stop for 2 seconds and take more pictures!!  (if nothing else, keep the point and shoot in the tank bag to stop in the middle of the road)  (oh yeah...take tank bag!)

Overall route:

  - green Saturday ~170 miles

  - cyan Sunday ~103 miles

  - magenta route to/from home ~200 miles

Wondering what the lame teaser was from the last post?  

VIDEO!!!

In case you still aren't sure if this is something you would/wouldn't like to do...have a look!

Motorcycle Marshal at Callaway Gardens from Love Of A Motorbike on Vimeo.

Motorcycle Marshaling for Multiple Sclerosis... part 1

After our first experience being Motorcycle Marshals for the first annual Atlanta-Athens-Atlanta Multiple Sclerosis Bike Ride in April we knew we were in.  It is hard work and long hours but infinitely rewarding watching over people, helping when necessary, giving support to people who are working even harder then us by pedaling up all these darn hills in Georgia.  So we signed right up for both days when they were taking names for the 24th annual MS 150 ride at Callaway Gardens.

This time would be a little trickier since we would have to stay a couple nights down there.  The main concern was the pup and we finally broke down and found a pet sitter.  (Wonderful pet sitter by-the-way.  Wish we had found her years ago.)  So our problems were solved.

It was in our best interest to ride down on Friday night since the Saturday morning meet time was 6 AM.  I didn't want to think about what time we would have to get up to ride the 2 1/2 hours to the start time, and still put in a full day of work.  Logistics for leaving on Friday were terribly muddled with working half day, or all day if we couldn't finish work up.  I did make arrangements to work a half day, but stayed an hour later to finish explaining some issues.

We had settled on me just riding down and checking into the hotel and Mr. Oilburner would follow when he was able to escape.  But my leaving late and finishing putting the house in order for the sitter put me behind schedule.  If I left at 2:30 Mr. Oilburner expected he would only be 30 minutes behind me.  If I just relaxed at home for another few minutes I could ride downtown to Mr. Oilburner and pick him up.  So...I finally rode the streets of downtown Atlanta.

[Bad] Luck would have it that some accident had the entire freeway through downtown backed up.  The carpool lane was actually one of the slower lanes, so jumping out of it made the travel a bit more bearable.  But the prime exit for reaching Mr. Oilburner is actually from the carpool lane, so I jumped back in when necessary.  :)

A girl on a loaded bike taking to the streets of downtown as the business day is wrapping up was obviously a sight as many people were looking at me pass and I was getting thumbs up from everyone.  Then I pulled into the public parking garage to see Mr. Oilburner suited and helmeted up and sitting astride his bike ready to go.  I pulled around him forcing the guy he was talking to out of the way.  Mean of me, I know, but the only other option was to sit in the middle of the exit ramp of a public parking garage.  Wasn't gonna do that.  We headed out, professionally navigating the one-way streets to jump back on the freeways past the traffic.

The ride down was mostly uneventful.  The usual confusion of trying to get gas, huge a$$ travel trailers blocking traffic lanes, choosing the wrong exits and a four-way stop in the middle of nowhere that had our direction backed up for half a mile.  But we reached our destination in good time and good order, settled into the hotel and then took a walk into downtown Pine Mountain, GA.  Lovely little place, just not much here.

 On our way back to the motel we stopped at a little BBQ joint that has the best online reviews.

The sign is also a smokestack.

I partook of the pulled pork sandwich that was so big I made it

into two meals.

So hot you can still see the steam.

We were up dark and early the next morning at 5 AM.  Breakfast was being served at 6 and we would be having a riders meeting with our team leads at 7:15.  So you start seeing everyone packing their bikes and heading to the start line in the dark.

It's dark, but don't think for a second that it is cool and low humidity.

Even though we were there and up early there were still plenty of other volunteers there way ahead of us to man the check in booths, set up and serve food and all manner of things.  My hats off to them.  Breakfast was easy and team meetings went quickly.  We just discussed routing, plan of attack, signs of heat stroke and heat exhaustion, how to help people, who to call in what situations, etc.  Before long it was time to mount up and get in line!!  The excitement is starting to settle in.

 Me!

Good omens abound with the lightening sky like this.

We line up just in front of the start line for the bicycles.  The intent is for us to leave just ahead of them and start running the route.  For this event there are three routes the cyclists can take: 35 miles, 65 miles and 100 miles.  Mr. Oilburner and I would be patrolling the 65 mile route today.  I would hope it would be obvious to everyone that we don't need to patrol the entire 65 mile route right off the bat.  There aren't going to be people at the end of it yet.  It is important to patrol the route where people are.  So our group heads to the first break point, sits for a few minutes, allowing cyclists to actually begin reaching the route and then we head back individually to start checking everything out.  I head out second and am amazed that the first group of cyclists are only a couple miles away from the break point.  

Our job: Stop and help people that may have mechanical issues, stop and help if someone has medical issues, corral loose dogs that may cause the cyclists problems, try to enforce some of the riding rules like no headphones and ride single file.  Generally, just try to protect the cyclists from others and themselves...  Small task.  :)

Since it is the beginning of the day and early into the course there aren't too many problems.  Mostly of the nature of flat tires, derailed chains and such.  It is more difficult trying to force people to ride single file when they want to chat with friends/teammates and are on small country roads.  They have a tendency to listen more when on larger roads with more vehicles on them.

Still, the start of the day/route is usually fairly quick and easy.  By the time I make it back to the break point half of our marshal group has started into the second half of our route towards the lunch break and the other portion remains looping back towards the start line.  I await instructions on where I am needed and am sent to patrol the second portion towards lunch.

It is still early and not many problems are occurring.  I do have some issues with groups of cyclists taking up the driving lane and prohibiting vehicles from passing.  This is where the fun is.  I zip around this line of cars and reach the cyclists and ask them to ride single file, at least on this busy road because the traffic back up is getting bad and the drivers are getting antsy.  They are all willing to comply and the vehicles start clearing out.

I make it to the lunch point and stop to grab my lunch for the saddle bag.  But here is where more fun kicks in.  I stop and chat with some of the cyclists that I recognized riding a triple seater.  There are quite a few tandem bikes, and apparently a couple triple seaters and one four seater!!  I've only seen the one triple seat and start chatting with the owners.  This bike has to be special made and imported.  Doesn't seem to be a large demand for them here.  But the third passenger is their 12 y/o nephew and this is his 5th MS Ride!!  Way to go!  Always fun to start talking with people and then start recognizing them along the road.

I begin taking a few nibbles from my sandwich and am approached by a gentleman I had met and had [sarcastic] words with the night before at the BBQ joint.  We were lucky enough to be on the same route and lucky enough that he recognized me.  Because I definitely wasn't going to be identifying him under his helmet.  We exchange experiences and names and joke and continue on about our business.  We even meet on the road a couple times and enjoy exchanging shouts.

I eat about half my sandwich and then head on out towards the next break point to patrol.  I'm rolling along, the riders are separating a bit now and stringing out farther.  I'm about 2 miles from the next break point when I see a hand pedal trike pulled over.  I pull into a nearby driveway and check if he needs anything.  First, water!! Second, a look at the map to find out where he is on the course.  That's another duty as the day wears on: provide water and snacks/bananas if necessary.  I grab a bottle of water and we check out the map.  The hill he is currently sitting at the bottom of looks daunting.  As a matter of fact, at the top of the hill another marshal is pulled over with someone that is sitting on the side of the road.  She is cramping and beginning to suffer from a little heat exhaustion.  Have I forgotten to mention that it is darn hot!!  (I never did envision jumping in the rivers we crossed...too difficult to climb down the hills to them.  But I did daydream of jumping into this crystal clear above ground pool on the route in all my gear.  The water was still sloshing around in those little waves that occur when someone has just gotten out and the water hasn't settled down.  The type of waves that refract and reflect the light all over, just begging you to jump in.  I might stop to take the helmet off, but I couldn't say for certain...)

I help my cyclist, he starts on his way and I get ready to continue on.  But my motorbike stalls.  Then stalls again.  Come on...this hill isn't that steep that I can't slip the clutch on.  I manage to keep it running but it just doesn't feel right and my engine light is blinking with that nasty yellow exclamation point.  I find a place to turn around at the top of the hill, restart the bike hoping it was some electronic gremlin and discover I have a problem; the engine is just running rough and feels near to stalling.  I make it down to the bottom of the hill and pull into a church parking lot and just stop in the shade of a tree.  

First I call one of my route leaders to let them know I am having a problem and will not be patrolling.  No, no need to come to me just yet, there really isn't anything that can be done yet.  I then try to call Mr. Oilburner, but he doesn't answer.  I leave a couple messages and tell him where I am.  I have a seat and help people as necessary.  It wasn't a bad location for people to take a break at.  They rounded a corner, saw this huge hill in front of them and just kinda sagged in the seat.  I gave away all my water and bananas and chatted with more marshals as they took breaks with me.

I look through my motorbike manual to discover the reason for the failure lights is that some sort of electronic fault was discovered in the engine and the engine is now running in "limp home" mode. Mr. Oilburner and I finally connect and he will come to me and see if there is anything he can do.  In the meantime I call my trusty dealership 200 miles away and have a chat.  Of course, they want me to bring it in, but I tell them it is going to be a bit difficult to do that right now.  They tell me to check the oil.  If that isn't it there is nothing to do but hook it up to the diagnostic machine.  And the nearest one is in their shop, or the other shop on the north side of Atlanta.

Have I failed to mention that my warranty expires tomorrow?? 

Mr. Oilburner arrives and even though we checked the oil in the morning and it was an appropriate level, the current level wasn't even visible in the sight glass.  The bike had been sitting about 45 minutes by this time and should have been good.  So we fill her up a little, but no dice.  Code and roughness still present.

Hoping maybe the computer just needs to be reset we stop a bicycle repair truck that just happens to be turning around in my parking lot and borrow a couple tools.  (The standard tool kit on the bike doesn't contain the appropriate tools to disconnect the battery.  But rest assured, I have ordered one of them expensive kits that I could put together for half the price if I knew exactly what I should be putting into it.)  That doesn't work either.

Now, I know you always need to check connectors.  But have you looked at the newer incarnation of R bikes lately?  There are connectors everywhere!!  And I did have it in my mind to check the one to the rear of the left head, but I was always on the right side and helping people.  I just kinda forgot.  So I had to slap my forehead and mentally kick myself when Mr. Oilburner sees that the Throttle Position Sensor is disconnected.  Somehow, somewhere, someway that little metal clip and pin that keeps that together has been lost and one of the plastic tabs is broken.  Now that had to have taken a pretty good hit or kick.  And I would have thought I would have remembered that.  But nothing in the ol' memory banks is sparking anything!

No harm, no foul.  We zip tie it back together and she starts running like a champ again.

Missing tab and clip for the Throttle Position Sensor

We all continue our work...these bikers aren't gonna save themselves.  LOL.  I finally reach the break point two miles down the road and promptly potty and tank bank up again.  I realize that I am quite dehydrated myself.  Then I grab a gallon jug of water to help the weary on the road.

I immediately stop for a couple and refill their water bottles with the ice cold stuff I have, and wet down a washcloth to cool themselves off.

The rest of the ride is uneventful for me.  The people I stop and help only need bananas or water.  No medical emergencies, no mechanical issues.  I am most of the way back to the lunch stop when I stop for gas, talk with other marshals and discover the lady we see on the road across from us is the absolute last rider.  No need to go back further.  Let's start helping the last of the riders in!

I make another circuit and head back.  I see my first couple taking a break on the side of the road.  They are just starting to head out when I pull up and we chat a few minutes.  They are good to go, are doing well and don't need anything.

You start collecting people on these rides.  You might have a one-time connection with some people that stays with you.  Other times you will have multiple connections that make you stand out for each other.  All the marshals have them.  And I hear that you start seeing each other each year if you are willing to go back and volunteer again.

I slowly start making my way back to the finish line. And remember that I can actually take a short break in the middle of the road to pull the point and shoot from my tank bag and grab a couple shots.  I just can't believe it takes me so long to remember these things sometimes.

Nice little steel bridge.  Nice paving instead of metal grating.

Quiet and clean little river.

One of many old buildings.

Sighting of more marshals.

I'm sitting at this little crossroad taking a picture of the old store above when a couple of the other marshals arrive.  We discuss how many are still out and how many are behind us.  One of the marshals happens to be a the leader from the century route and inquires if any of us have snacks.  I don't have any event sanctioned ones, but I do have my personal stash and offer it up.  He mentions that there is a riding couple up the road a few miles that needs something to eat.  I inquire as to the clothes the lady is wearing and surmise it is "my" couple.  And I am right!  I quickly put the bike into gear and break the speed limits to reach them.  They are only a couple miles from the finish line, but sometimes you need that little bit of carbohydrates to kick your body into doing the work.

I reach them in pretty good time and we set to munching on trail mix (with chocolate was her only question before "yes"!).  They finished up an apple someone gave them, and snatched the bananas a fellow marshal held out in passing.  Good to go!!

Turned out this was the longest ride the wife had been on and she was doing great.  We plotted out the route and I was able to detail how many hills between here and town.  And it was all downhill once you arrived to town.  Very happy indeed and they finished just before the 6 PM cutoff.  Yay!!

End of day and everyone is tired.  The time, distance and heat have taken there toll.  We discuss meeting at the hotel for dinner.  But Mr. Oilburner and I opt for the free food the event is giving out, catered from Johnny Carino's.  I can feel the headache coming on from the harsh sun all day. I vote for dinner here (free) and then go back to the hotel.

Dinner wasn't bad, but I started feeling exponentially worse when we started eating.  Looking back I believe it was because I still had my armored pants on and the lack of air flow (from actually riding and moving) was trapping my heat in.  Add to that my dehydration and I wasn't feeling well at all.  Finished my salad and laid down on the bench seat to wait for Mr. Oilburner.

I then did something I have never done before!  I striped off the armored pants down to my little bike shorts beneath and actually rode back to the hotel in shorts.  It was about one mile with very little traffic and I was willing to take the risk.  I rode slowly and took precautions when a car was around.  The migraine was starting to hit full force and I took to bed. The air conditioner didn't seem to help at all, the cold, wet washcloth wasn't enough, so I crawled my way into the bathtub and sat in cold water to cool my core temperature down.  That did the trick.

I promptly feel asleep for a couple hours and started feeling better.  I woke up for a little while and took one of those Emergen-C packets of vitamins.  I believe they kept me awake a little while, but it did wonders for my body.  I still slept through the night and luckily was feeling myself by morning.  Another marshal was suffering the same symptoms as I, but I couldn't get her the Emergen-C in the evening.  I caught her in the morning and gave her the last packet to help perk her up for the coming day.

Since I have rambled on enough, this is going to have to be a two-parter.  To give you an idea of route coverage you know my route was 65 miles (actually 63.5 since they had to remove the ride over the dam).  I managed to ride 160 miles on Saturday.  Even stopped for a 90 minute breakdown didn't take many miles from me as Mr. Oilburner's total mileage was 167.  We were at the event by 6 AM and stopped working at 6 PM.  It may be work, it is fun, it is difficult, but you do get to spend a lot of time on your bike and really practice your slow speed maneuvering (espcially u-turns).

Part two forthcoming.  The day was shorter and not as difficult.  But I do have a unique surprise if you are willing to come back for a read.