About a Dog...

Yep, I stole that title from a 2003 comedy which looked at the relationship between pets and their owners.  I have to be honest with you...I've never watched it.  

I am taking a break from my performance related posts to share with you a little bit, about a dog...

As I sit and write today, my eyes are filled with tears.  You see, today my wife and I said our final goodbyes to a part of our family...our dog Chloe.  I say our final goodbyes, because I think we have been saying goodbye to her for sometime now - knowing full well that her life was drawing to a end sooner than we would have liked.

We never want our beloved pets to pass away, yet we don't want to see them suffer either.  I have always said that I would not let Chloe get to the point where I knew she was suffering.  The decision is never an easy one, but I think it's even tougher when you look at them and see that they still have life in their eyes...even though their bodies are beginning, the often times, long process of shutting down.  It was time.

There are people out there who just aren't dog people...or pet people for that matter.  They wont truly understand the deep loss that those of us who become so connected with our pets feel...and that's okay.  I know it may seem strange to some, to hear me say (or read it actually) that I loved my dog, and I mean truly loved.  It sounds weird, I know.  But truthfully, after seventeen years, she was part of our family.  

Like any other member of our family, we laughed with her (sometimes at her), we cried with her, and sometimes to her.  We talked to her, and she 'spoke' back to us...on command even.  She protected us, and provided a sense of comfort for my wife when I was at work.  She was a hiking companion, and someone that you could talk to, without having to worry about what she thought...although I have to tell you, there were times when I would swear she knew exactly what I was saying to her.  

There were times when she would do things like reach out with her paw, and place it on my hand when when she clearly sensed something was wrong.  There were times when she would just walk up and rub her head into whatever part of my body was the easiest to access, then roll over and look directly in my eyes, as I talked to her.  

She was a great athlete in her day...extremely fast and agile.  When she was younger, she liked to run directly at me, and jump right up into my arms.  She was very trusting of me...allowing me to hold her in my arms while she would lie on her back and relish in the attention she was receiving.  She was also a great little hunter.  If I remember right, Chloe racked up seven or eight confirmed kills...yep, she was a packrat hunter extraordinaire!  I would flush them out, as she sat back just waiting for me to give her the command to 'get em!'  And get-em she did.  Often at great personal sacrifice and pain, as those little rats dug their big 'ol chompers into her flesh, in their last great act of defiance.  

I will miss those times.  I will miss her.  

I chose to be with her right to the very end.  I wanted the last thing she saw, to be my face.  As the euthanizing medications coursed through her veins, I stroked her fur, whispering to her what a great dog she had been, and how much we loved her. 

Five Flats, Two Bikes Broken...and a Third Nipple?

Back when I took creative writing in High School, I was told that the title is a story's first impression...so make it a good one.  Hey...what can I say.  When you throw the word nipple in the title, it's bound to make an impression...right?

Today the Ride 430 Challenge team suited up - actually cyclists like to call it kitting up - who am I to make fun of that...when I get suited up to go into a fire, we call it getting turned out...everyone's got their own thing.

Man, I've only typed two paragraphs, and I'm already off track!

So anyway, like I said...we kitted up early this morning for another crack at, what has now become quite a nemesis...The Sunflower Ride.  Those of you who do not live in Arizona may not be familiar with the 'quaint' little town of Sunflower - think Breaking Bad, only in Arizona.  You know...meth labs and stuff?  

The ride to Sunflower, for us anyway, always begins south of Sunflower...usually 30 or 40 miles south of Sunflower.  Today our ride began in Mesa...east Mesa to be exact...so closer to 50 miles today. 

Our road to Sunflower

Once again we were joined by USAF Sgt Ryan Pinney, and his trusty hand-bike...which if you remember from my previous post, about our first attempt at The Sunflower Ride...Ryan's bike broke.  You may also remember that Ryan's bike is equipped with a push bar so that other riders can provide some assistance when the terrain begins to rise...or you take on a nasty headwind...or both.

And yes...if you just said to yourself "I bet today they had both" then you would be 100% correct my friend.  

I think it is important to share something with you...a little insight to the man I used to be.  You see, I used to be one of those riders who, if the wind was blowing, would quickly decide to go back inside and find something else to do.  Now however, I just sigh a little sigh, and tell myself to suck it up...then I start pedaling.  There are those days when you know that you should have gone with your first instinct...you know the days, right?

Today, the wind was ominous (for me anyway).  After about 45-minutes of riding, our course took a turn...to the right, but also for the worse.  As we began making our way northeast on the Beeline Highway we were greeted by a stiff wind which slowed our pace significantly, and required us to provide some early assistance for Ryan.  I think we averaged somewhere in the neighborhood of about 13 miles per hour...pretty stinkin' slow!  It was just a constant battle against the wind, combined with the steady uphill trend.  Once again, Ryan proved to be the strongest and most determined rider out there today.

Along the way, our team encountered our first flat tire...which by the end of the ride, totaled five...from what I heard.  One of our 'Ryan Pushers' stopped to assist with the first flat, and we didn't see him again for quite a while.  The next flat took out another of our 'pushers', which meant some other riders needed to step up...and that they did! Thank you guys, because I was having a bad day...that just kept getting worse.  Ryan ended up with a flat as well, and from what I understand, there were at least two more.

So, that's the flat tire part, now let's move on the the broken bike part, shall we?

Ryan's bike broke again.  Yep...it's The Sunflower Ride, I'm tellin' you!  Once again, the shifter cable on Ryan's hand-crank setup began fraying severely.  It may have broken all the way through, but I am not sure.  It was bad enough however, that the decision was made that Ryan wouldn't be making the ride back to Mesa...not on his bike anyway.

Ryan's ride hone

So that's broken bike numero uno.

Broken bike numero dos was the result of a horrible crash...which by the way broke a beautiful carbon frame, clean through.  I've been on the wrong end of a crash that was bad enough to break a carbon frame  (you can check out the details here, and here) and let me tell you...it's no fun.  

Our Ride Captain was the unfortunate rider that crashed today, as he was descending into a valley, just four miles south of our destination - Sunflower.  At the bottom of the descent is a bridge, that spans a narrow canyon, before the road once again rises, presenting riders with a steep climb into Sunflower.  At the transition between the road and the bridge, there are a two or three areas where the asphalt has been pushed up, creating some little 'speed bumps'...pretty severe little bumps actually.  On our last attempt at this ride, I was fortunate enough to spot the bumps ahead of time, and simply hop over them.  Our Ride Captain however, was not so fortunate.  He hit them at a speed that was surely in excess of 30 mph, which caused him to lose control of his bike, and slam into both the guard rail and pavement.  Fortunately, he was able to walk away from the accident with what appeared to be a little road rash, and some bumps and bruises.  It could have been much, much worse, had he been thrown over the guard rail.  Thankfully, that was not what happened.

Alright.  Broken bike story...check.

Now how about that third nipple?

Alright, it's not really a third nipple, but it kind of looks like one right now...only it's not next to the other two.  I told you that Ryan's bike broke...or was breaking.  So at the spot where our rider crashed, the team brass...you know, the guys who are way above my 'pay-grade' so to speak, made the decision to call that spot our turnaround point.  It was time to head home.  The injured, the not feeling so well, and Ryan, were going to be transported back to our starting point, while the remainder of the team would continue the ride...only we would not be heading to Sunflower...like I said, we were going home.

The view from our turn-around point...just shy of Sunflower...and possibly Heisenberg!

I was helping load bikes and Ryan's wheelchair into the back of our SAG pickup, when I got shot.  Well, it felt like I got shot anyway.  Apparently when I had my arms extended, helping to place the chair in the truck, a rather large wasp decided to land on my left side, just below my armpit.  When I lowered my arm, that little bugger decided he was being attacked, and instinctively fought back with the only weapon at his disposal...his stinger.  

I felt three distinct, separate stings, as I quickly did the frantic 'what the heck is going on here' (I may have screamed like a little girl...I've done it before) swatting and flailing of my arms.  I noticed a huge wasp was attached to something...my skin!  The wasp was actually trying to fly.  I know this because I clearly say it's outstretched body, and its little wings flapping away.  The problem was that it wasn't going anywhere...because it was stuck to my jersey.  The more I swatted the more it's little weapon went to work.  Finally, I was able to brush it away, but not before it pumped me full of its fiery venom, which contains hyaluronidase, an enzyme which breaks down the barrier between cells, helping the venom to spread.  My armpit was on fire!  

I am somewhat hypersensitive to bee stings and other bites like ants and mosquitoes, so I wasn't sure what to expect from this little encounter with my friend the wasp.  Like every good Paramedic, I DO NOT travel with an epinephrine pen (maybe I will in the future), so I said a couple quick prayers that I would not have an anaphylactic reaction to the venom.  We hopped onto our bikes and began our long journey south, up and over the mountain passes that we had just made our way north on....headed for home.

It wasn't long before I began feeling the secondary effects of the nasty little insect, as my entire left arm became numb within just a few minutes.  I was waiting for my airway to swell up, but the good Lord kept me breathing!  After what felt like an eternity...actually only about an hour...we reached a stopping point to take a breather, and refill our bottles and nutrition.  It was there that I made a difficult decision...difficult for a guy who hates to quit, and considers it a failure.  I chose to catch a ride home with our SAG team.  As disappointed as I was in myself, I knew it was the smart choice, as we still had 18-20 miles to go, in temperatures that were rising above 100 degrees.  

A shot of my 'third nipple'

And another, about 2 hours later, as the redness began to 'travel'

To quote one of my team mates, "Sunflower 2, Ride 430...Zero".  We will be back Sunflower...we'll be back!

We'll be back!