Maynard Hershon

Finding the Limitsof riding stamina.

Maynard discovers the effects of riding far, and ratherfast

Three days ago 300 of us rode what's called the 100,000-Foot Ride. Entrants ride 400 miles or a bit more, climbing and descending Rocky Mountain Passes to amass a total of 100,000 feet of elevation gain and loss.

The event, promoted by the local BMW club, starts 7am-ish at the BMW-Triumph Royal Enfield shop in Lakewood, just west of Denver. There are no checkpoints or time limits, just a lot of demanding mountain road.

I didn't realise before the ride what a learning experience it would be. Like many of us, I'm no longer 25 years old - by a long shot. A ride this challenging would have me looking within m yself and not always feeling okay about what I saw... I made mistakes.

I started with a group from th e hard-ridin' BMW club, in hindsight a mistake. We rode the first 100 miles together. More accurately they rode together and I chased on my V7 Guzzi, boasting 47 ferocious Italian horsepower - at sea level. I was hundreds of miles from any sea level.

Everyone else had big horsepower. I could only catch them when they got stuck behind a car and couldn't readily pass . I didn't blame my 47hp, but I had to ride at throttle openings and rpms that were unfamiliar to my valiant little steed.

Because we were almost always above 6000 feet and the grades were long, curving and often steep, my little twin had to work hard, but seemed to thrive on the punishment.

My friend Bob and I somehow came adrift from that group and ended up riding with strangers, including a slender young lady riding in front of me. She was on a newish chain-drive BMW, in those Motorsport colours. We maintained speeds in the 70s and 80s, so when we paused at a highway intersection and I got a side view, I was stunned to see that she was riding a 310.

She couldn't have weighed more than 120pounds in her leathers , but I did not expect a 310cc single to be mixing it up with big Triumph triples, 1200GSs, and 165hp, six-cylinder BMW tourers. Was she at wide-open throttle nearly all the time? I never had the chance to ask.

We seldom exceeded 85mph in that group, about as fast as I like to go on my little V7. I could keep up stress-free, so I did. But as the miles and passes went by, I got a bit fatigued and began to think about food. My riding ability declined, I believe.

In retrospect, I should have had food bars and water and some way to get them into my mouth. My full face Arai prevented that. Maybe I could have worn a CamelBack with liquid food in it and a hose that would've reached my mouth. Luckily we stopped for lunch in Leadville at 10,000ft. I wolfed down a Subway Italian meatball sandwich.

At that point we'd done 250 miles on mountain roads. All the passes but one were over 9500 feet. The highest was 11,539 feet. Only about 150 miles to go, I thought. I can do this.

I felt good on my bike over the next 100 miles, at one with the bike, you could say. I'd had a break and a sandwich. I could arc precisely 'round the bends and shift the gears to stay in the proper slice on the ta ch ... and remain loose, fluid on the motorcycle.

When I realised I was about 25 miles from finishing the event, I found myself riding alone, maybe 50 feet behind another entrant, a guy on an older BMW, an RlOOGS,I think. We were riding downhill on a wide road with long, sweeping curves.

I watched him wander from one side of the right lane, the 'slow' lane, to the other. He'd accelerate to 70mph and slow again to 50. I thought: This guy is either exhausted or inept.

Abruptly he veered into the left lane, just as a small car was passing him. The woman driving that car hit the brakes hard ... and saved the guy's life, I'd say. I'm not sure he ever realised that the car and the woman driving it were anywhere around. Oh-blivious.

Having witnessed that near-miss , I felt grateful for the guys I ride with on Mondays, guys who can be depended upon never to do the scary, stupid thing. I imagined riding with them two days later, steady brisk pace, no craziness, and no surprises.

I thought about the stages I'd been through in the 400 miles. I started out tight and clumsy on my bike, pressured into going faster than I wanted to go. Wasn't a good idea, was it?

Before lunch, riding with a somewhat slower group, I relaxed a bit and felt okay - until I got hungry and tired. Should have stopped earlier or taken portable food. After lunch I felt better than I had all day, loose and smooth on my bike. I

feel sure that if I had taken better care of myself, chosen my riding companions more carefully and been mor e aware of eating and drinking during that ride, I'd have had a safer, more consistently satisfying journey.

I didn't have to think about these things years ago, but evidently I do now.

I'll tr y to be on top of that stuff next time. Watch this space ...