Wheelmen place 4th, 5th, 6th, and 7th in the Tour de Cashiers 1998

By Eliza Dean

The day was Saturday.  There was lots of rain.  In fact, the radio was
announcing flood watches in Union County.  It was about 5:00 p.m., and I had
to make an important decision.  Do I go, or do I not go?  The Tour de
Cashiers would be starting at 9:00 a.m. on Sunday morning.  We were supposed
to ride 52 miles and climb 5000 feet.  I knew that Bill Adams, George
DeVeny, and George Richards were already there.  But, it was raining.  Well,
I bit the bullet and went.  I arrived in Cashiers, North Carolina at about
8:00 p.m.  There was a thick fog on top of the mountain where I was headed.
I had to put my face right up to the windshield to see through.  Fortunately
I had my Scottish music to get me through.

I checked in to my room at the Laurelwood Mountain Inn.  I could see the
gazebo across the street where the tour was supposed to start in the
morning.  The rain was still falling, and there were no signs that it was
going to stop.  The guys had already eaten, so I went out and found some
pasta and ice tea at a little joint close by.  I came back to my room and
cleaned up my bike.  I went to sleep.

The next morning it was still raining.  It had been raining all night.  It
was that hard kind of relentless rain.  So, I geared up and went to find my
three Smoky Mountain Wheelmen friends.  There were people streaming in to
the gazebo.  I'd say there were at least 150 people.  I saw racing type
people with their fancy equipment and family riders.  A man came over a loud
speaker and said, "Everybody, listen up.  As you can see, it is raining.   We
advise all of you NOT TO RIDE."  He went on to say that the tour was very
steep (about 5000 feet of climbing) and that people's driveways were
spilling out with mud and gravel.  He said that people could come back the
next time they have the tour and do it for free if they would just not ride
this time.  But then he said that if there were any people out there who
take risks and who were hard core that they were putting extra support
vehicles on the road.  At this point I questioned what kind of person I was.
They were going to get a few more ambulances and sag vehicles.  So, I'm
thinking to myself, I'm not going.  This is crazy.  I take it slow down
hills anyway.  Imagine myself going down hills in the rain.  I went to say
goodbye to Bill, George, and George.  When I found them I said, "Are y'all
going to ride?"  "Of course we are!"  said Bill.  "And so are you," he said.
I had no rain gear.  But I said I'd do it.  So, out of the 150 people there
at the start, only 9 people chose to do the 52 miles.  And 4 out of the nine
were Wheelmen and Wheelwomen.

Bill and George DeVeny took off at a quick pace.  George Richards and I were
right behind.  We would have been there right with them the whole ride, but
alas, I dropped a chain.  George Richards stopped to help me, and the two of
us stayed together for the rest of the ride.  The rain was still falling.
George told me about the history of the lakes in the region and how TVA had
been involved.  We stopped at the different rest stops and had cookies and
bananas.  We were just ahead of two riders.  Apparently there were three
riders in front of Bill and George D. that they never saw the whole time on
the ride.  But George R. and I were feeling pretty good about us.

About half way in to the ride, we had a fire truck and a sag vehicle
supporting us.  It was nice, but almost too nice.  I was getting cold
because of my lack of rain gear.  I did notice the rhododendron, the
mountain tops, the streams, the log homes, the wild flowers, the rocks, and
the rain.  A woman told us that there were two support vehicles per rider.
The two riders behind us passed us.  We were upset.  But then one of them
had a flat tire and the fire truck stopped to help them.  We passed them.
But we still had a sag vehicle behind us.

By now we had reached mile 40.  I was exhausted, cold, but determined.  We
were going downhill on a busy highway, when we were supposed to make a left
turn up a hill.  I did not change gears in time and had to get off my bike.
George continued ahead.  An older gentleman in one of the two sag vehicles
that were now behind us jumped out of his truck and said, "Honey, why don't
you just let me take you back in to the finish.  There's no sense in you
being out here in this rain."  I told him that I had no intentions of
quitting.  I had made it this far, and I was going to finish.  So what if I
was cold and in pain.  I was going to finish.  Well, this gentleman ignored
me and said he was going to run up real quick in his truck to tell my friend
(George R.) that I was out.  Out of contention.  I managed to clip back in,
although it was hard because I had to go back down hill into traffic on a
busy highway.  I rode back to find George and the sag man having an
argument.  The man was telling George that he was taking me back.  But
George didn't believe I was quitting.  When the man saw me, he threw up his
arms in despair, and George and I labored on.  Those last 10 miles were the
most difficult miles I have ever done.  Each turn of the pedal felt like
lead weights.  At one point a car passed us and almost ran us off the road.
At last, when I saw finish line, I broke in to tears.  I had been holding
these tears back, so that I could make it.  But when it was over, I realized
that I had just completed my most difficult bike ride.

We found Bill and George DeVeny finishing off their chicken barbecue
dinners.  It was so nice to be back.  The tour organizers gave away many
door prizes.  We didn't win anything, but it didn't matter.  We did take
4th, 5th, 6th, and 7th places in the tour de Cashiers.