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Ride for the Roses: Austin, Texas

Austin, Texas in October feels much like Austin, Texas in July or August, or so it would seem. The lingering morning overcast is nothing more than the false promise of a respite from the sweltering heat that surely builds beneath. Visual, more than anything else, is this cool grayness. Assailed as one steps away from the imprisoning confines of a hotel whose tinted windows do not open, the gray pall no longer manages to hide the heat already trapped beneath.

This weekend’s mission: to support the Lance Armstrong Foundation’s flower requirements for a multitude of functions, events and persons while being one of an assemblage of some six thousand, who, drawn together by a common goal and a young Texan on a bicycle, have already raised close to six million dollars this weekend for those living with and through cancer. Sunday, October 17th will see the six thousand astride bicycles and riding distances from 20 to 100 miles on the farm to market roads that skirt the city of Austin to the east. Never has there been a gathering to sport more spandex and all in colors to make a chameleon blush, or on physiques more unsuited and never to appear in apparel ads. My mind is firmly fixed on having neither the flowers nor myself wilt in this unseasonal heat.

Many will be aware of the long-standing commitment between Flowerbud and LAF, and some of you have ordered the various Tribute Bouquets over the years, thus contributing to this remarkable foundation. In 2004 Flowerbud will grace and brighten many LAF events. The Peloton Dinner, observing the efforts of those fund raisers and sponsors having gone above and beyond. The venue, an exotic game ranch located on a landfill to the south of Austin. As if Zebra, Eland and Buffalo roaming in front of you on the drive into the lodge are not exotic enough, any remaining gravitas is dispelled from the evening by Mr. Bob Roll of 7-Eleven Team Cycling and OLN commentary fame, followed by Mr. Robin Williams’s hilariously irreverent take on the Gauloise-smoking French fans of Le Tour De France.

While the French undoubtedly wilt under the Williams wit, the Flowerbud arrangements, so ably put together by “The Gala Gals,” would stand up to anything he could dish out. Super product, superb arranging. Now it’s on to the convention center and two huge arrangements on a stage that is set for an interview of Lance hosted by Ann Curry of The Today Show, featuring questions posed by a panel of cancer survivors from around the USA. A huge audience listened to an interesting give and take plus perceptive questions from the survivors, while a lighter moment seemed almost to wring out of Mr. Armstrong a hint of Le Tour #7. The arrangements framing these moments were up to the task and, of course, further nurtured the yellow theme that means everything in the world of cycling, from the yellow leader’s jersey to the yellow LIVESTRONG bracelets that at the moment of this writing have garnered some eighteen million dollars for the foundation. While Flowerbud shipped the product for this event, it was ably arranged and situated by Aaron Floral Couture of Austin. Great work on short notice.

Throughout the weekend it is fun and gratifying to see the flowers recycled into differing arrangements at different venues, even to those as far flung as the rest and refreshment stops along the course of The Ride for the Roses. This event really begins to live up to its namesake and is all the better for it.

Early morning darkness prevails as the assemblage pours itself into bright, tight clothes whose padded parts are sure to prove grossly inefficient and insufficient by days end. Wheels are locked into forks, gears snick to and fro. Water bottles are already sticky from gross concoctions of so-called sports drinks that would promise to make heroes of us all while back pockets bulge with bananas and a variety of nutrition bars that might be mistaken for the spare inner tubes I stuff beside them. Admonitions about hydration and sunscreen followed by Sheryl Crow’s rendition of the national anthem, a few more moments of hilarity from Robin Williams and we are off. Cyclists’ shirts sport not just bright colors but the pinned-on cards that serve to memorialize those who have passed before from cancer, to honor those that fight it today, and to indicate those that fought, won and ride this day. An interesting mélange of emotions played to the heady tune of chain rings and high-pressure tires on asphalt. It seems as if most of this ride’s first hour is passed in a companionable silence.

The air is hot, the road surface more farm than market. Early miles see machinery failing to withstand the test, it rests roadside against the forlorn, riders fail to pay attention to speed and proximity and lay bloodied by the roadside awaiting the EMTs ministrations. Am hooked up in a strong pace line representing a local bike shop and the miles hum and tick by effortlessly until mile 21 when an explosive hiss of air from the rear has the bike weaving recklessly at close to 30 mph. Staying upright while searching for an exit from the pack I offer a prayer that I not get run down from behind. Fortunately that explosive hiss paints me with a symbol akin to having bubonic plague and space opens up around me. I upend the bike, wheel off, tire off, offending tube out, new tube in, tire on, wheel on, self and bike upright and back chasing down the pack that was making life so easy. No more than three or four minutes in front and plenty of bodies in between to help drag me back.

At mile 32, the road again gets the better of my rear tire. As I am just about to crest a hill, again with a fast pack, the rear lets go once more. I escape over the crest and off to the side, joining a young woman awaiting a companion whose seat has parted company with his bike. As I break all records in switching tubes, my companion steps into a roadside fire ant nest. All of a sudden my troubles pail by comparison. I get to see that well-bitten ankle and leg on and off for the next 70 or so miles. Tire re-inflated, ants swatted, it is but briefly back to the chase as at mile 35 the rear wheel hisses for my third and final inner tube! These100 miles are not supposed to see me in the saddle for more than five hours so this turn of events has me hissing my own expletive. Situating the final tube I get to see the flaw in the tires side-wall that allows the tube to bulge and burst. Less air pressure and a lot of faith in Michelin sees me race the next 50 miles to Elgin and the gift of a new rear tire from a local cycle shop. The tire change allows the minutes necessary for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich kindly furnished by the volunteers clustered around the bandstand in Elgin Town Square. The last 20 miles is taken with far more confidence. Sunscreen is holding up, calories are topped up and I have the eighth and ninth water bottles for hydration. Fewer people to draft at this stage and it requires conversation and cajoling to persuade others to help pull us into larger packs where the going is so much easier.

Flowerbud’s presence at the finish line is centered on the giving of yellow Roses to those cancer survivors completing the ride. Volunteers of all ages vie for this job of spotting and presenting. Immensely emotional and infinitely rewarding, the yellow roses are presented to men and women, young and old alike as they reflect on their achievement and often times are greeted by spouses or parents. There is much joy and many, many tears are shed. Imbedded in each and every one is a story to tell, and the later in the day it gets the more amazing the story behind the achievement. The inspiration, the strength of will that drives these people to participate and finish could fill volumes.

From this year’s Ride for the Roses I would like to share just one story that I was fortunate to witness the conclusion of. Long off the bike and with the vitality of a glass or two of Guiness beneath my belt I was at the finish line helping with the last of the survivor Roses under the tutelage of LAF volunteers Michele, Sally and Becky when I got into a conversation with a man who was obviously most anxious and choking back on his emotions. At the time the course marshals were reporting that there remained just two people on the course and the pair were just a mile or two away.

The two as it turns out were mother and daughter. The mother, a cancer survivor, was riding to honor the memory of her best friend, killed just the week before while training for this very ride. A complete reversal of what was supposed to have been as the deceased had trained to ride in honor of her friend, now the rider. The mother in question was not a cyclist in any shape or form, yet knowing her best friend’s passion for this cause had undertaken to ride in her memory while wearing her friend’s number on her own shirt. Now when the mother had undertaken to ride she had no idea that her best friend had signed on for 100 miles, rather she thought it would be for 20 miles. I can only imagine the thoughts when she received the number of her friend, turned it over, and saw 100 miles. The husband I am talking with rode the first forty miles with his wife and was bushed. With the daughter taking over to provide support and encouragement they proceed into the gusting winds and temperatures in the high 90s. For all those of us that remained at the finish line to witness this victory for herself and for her best friend, it served to reaffirm much and represented the very essence of LAF.

Having taken her something over nine hours to complete 100 miles, it will likely have taken a little longer to recuperate. A century ride for anyone…is not just a matter of fact. It is something few can do and even then only with an adequacy of training. Not merely a physical challenge but a psychological one in equal measure. I ride a bike perhaps 5000 miles on a really good year and still think twice about the wisdom of riding a century. It can hurt, and hurt a lot! For this woman, to have battled and survived cancer to then turn around and cycle a hundred miles, without a history of cycling leaves me incredulous. It is that spirit, that determination and that selflessness that is so prevalent yet so beautifully understated every year at RftR in Austin that makes it such a pleasure for Flowerbud to help out where it can. To all who participated, donated, and to all those who volunteer to bring it about, a heartfelt thank you.

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