Why? Several reasons. First, I’m mighty darn proud to be associated with an event like this. It’s such an optimal combination of having fun and doing good that it blows my mind. I mean, think about it: we get to ride some of the best roads anywhere, with a couple thousand other folks who share our passion for it. We’re burning so many calories that we can eat and drink just about anything we see and want. All we have to worry about is eat, sleep, ride, repeat. And this is pumping tens of thousands of dollars into the economies of the towns we’re thoroughly enjoying hanging out in? Sign me up every year, and give me a chance to tell anyone else I meet about it, too.

And that’s the second reason I love wearing my CO jerseys – they’re great conversation starters. I can’t count the times I’ve been riding with a bike club in some distant city, or out on my own when I encounter other riders, that someone sees the Cycle Oregon and we start talking. They’ve ridden it, or know someone who rides it, or have always wanted to ride it, or live somewhere that’s hosted it. If I were wearing an Oregon Ducks jersey, I’d find some fiercely simpatico friends, but just as likely some Beaver-lovers who would give me the stink-eye. But no one hates Cycle Oregon. We’re the good guys, with the reputation as a quality event that’s consistently a blast.

And so I wear the other jerseys when I ride with my buds around home. But when I head out somewhere, I’m wearing Cycle Oregon.

But one of those first ideas stuck with me, and I happened to mention it on a phone call with Yolanda Lennon of the Pendleton Chamber of Commerce: “I was picturing a cowboy and a cyclist, standing at a bar at the Round-Up – one in blue jeans, one in lycra, side by side.” (OK, full disclosure: I told her my initial idea: to shoot a close-up of just their backsides. See, the contrast would be all that much more apparent. A cheeky approach, no?)

She loved the idea. And then she made it happen. While we were in town, she arranged for us to have access to one of the bars at Hamley’s for an hour before it opened, and she rustled up a real-life cowboy (Justin Pearce, son of Hamley’s owner Parley Pearce and a competitor in the rodeo) as a model.

A couple days before we hit Pendleton, I saw Arthur Hung, a Cycle Oregon rider I’ve known for a few years, out on the road. Seeing as my wife had previously and quickly ruled me out as a potential model (“Sorry, honey, but you just don’t have enough butt”), I had been, um, scouting for a few days. When I asked Art, who as you can see is quite fit, if he was interested in doing some “modeling,” he was, naturally, intrigued. OK, actually I had to sell him a bit by saying he would end up with something cool he could show the little ones when he was old and wrinkled. I may have mentioned that his face wouldn’t be in view. Anyway, he’s an amazingly good sport, and he agreed to give it a shot.

I had already lined up a pro shooter – Phil Bard, another loyal CO rider I met a few years back – and had arranged for his equipment to be hauled to Pendleton. And so it was that while tens of thousands of people were lined up on the streets outside to watch the rodeo parade, a small group of us gathered in a cool barroom to make a picture.

After we decided that a full-body shot might work better (although I believe some tight shots do actually exist), we set everything up accordingly. If you’ve ever been on a photo shoot, you know that that means 55 minutes of set-up – plugging things in, checking light levels, fussing with backgrounds, moving the models in one-inch increments – for five minutes of shooting.

But Justin and Art were troupers, leaning on the bar and casually chatting as we scurried around and conferred and told them to tilt their heads a little bit more this way. And, although the photo was a piece of artifice – a totally staged meeting of two people who likely would never have met under any other circumstances – it looks great.

And then I strolled around town that morning watching the rest of the parade, and the people watching the parade. And later, bikers and buckaroos stood in food lines together and sat in the same row of rodeo grandstands and (so I heard) closed down some local bars together. And I think our photo actually became an embodiment of one of the foundations of Cycle Oregon: taking people to places they’ve never been, where they can get to know people they’ve never met. It was art imitating life.

Note: We have some extra 8 x 10 prints of this iconic picture, and we’ll have them on hand and for sale ($20 unframed or $30 framed) at the Kickoff Party. If we sell out of the available photos, we’ll take orders for additional prints ($20 unframed, $10 shipping).

Photo by Phil Bard, Copyright 2010

This month our esteemed panel of Dave Zollner and Oscar Lucas, (“front of the pack”) and Dean Rodgers and Andrea Carlson (“back of the pack”) take on the broad topic of safety on the road, with specific focus on three P’s: passing, pacelines and iPods (hey, close enough…).

What are your thoughts on passing riders – and being passed: techniques, timing, considerations, pet peeves?

Dean: As a rider who is passed frequently – particularly on long climbs – I have a lot of thoughts about the passing style of others. While there are lots of times where calling out “On your left!” makes a lot of sense and is the correct and safe thing to do, there are other times where it’s completely unnecessary and even a little obnoxious.

It’s an important thing to do in high-traffic areas, or if the person you are overtaking is wobbly or obviously not paying attention. It’s also necessary if you’re at the head of a large paceline. It’s an absolute necessity if you’re overtaking someone on a fast downhill – particularly if the person you’re about to pass is in a position where they might decide to overtake the person in front of them and may not remember to check their six. In those instances, YELL it out and make sure they can hear you (and, if you’re being passed on a downhill, it’s a good idea to let the person passing know you’ve heard them).

But if you’re in a low-traffic area and have plenty of passing room – and if the person you’re overtaking is holding their line – then just pass. It’s in these areas where it seems like people who shout “On your left!” are more concerned with letting you know they can pass you than anything else. People with bells – and particularly bored stokers on tandems with bells – are even worse in these instances. One ding at the appropriate time is acceptable. Four is not.

Then there are the long climbs. Slow climbers know they’re going to be passed over and over and over again. We expect it. At slow speeds, it’s easy to hear someone approaching from behind. There’s no such thing as a stealthy climber. Hearing “On your left” consistently on a 3- to 4-hour epic climb gets really old really quickly, and eventually becomes a little demoralizing. If you want to let someone know you’re there, sometimes a simple “hello” is a whole lot nicer.

Also, resist the urge to tell people you don’t know who are OBVIOUSLY struggling on these long climbs that they’re doing great. Really skinny and fit riders probably can’t fully relate to the monumental struggle a large, slow rider might be going through on nine miles of 5% to 10% hell. Getting to the top is sometimes more of a test of will than anything else, and getting there is NOT always half the fun. Even if you’re well-meaning and genuinely impressed by their effort, telling someone who is having a hard time what a swell job they’re doing might not be taken as a compliment. That’s because they know if they really were doing great, they would be keeping up with everyone else and fellow riders wouldn’t feel compelled to comment.

Dave: Passing other riders is pretty basic – get around other riders without freaking them out or causing a crash or near-crash. Alert the rider(s) you’re overtaking with plenty of advance notice with “on your left” or a bell ring. Look back to be sure there aren’t others passing you. Pass with plenty of space between you and the other rider. The faster you’re passing, the further back you alert when overtaking. If you don’t do these basics you’re cruising for a big crash… it’s just a matter of time. Caution: Riders tend to remember your jersey color and get a bit testy when you cause a near-crash or freak them out by sneaking up on them at 40 mph. Oscar: Good points. I think it can safely be said that I seldom sneak up on anyone at 40 mph. One additional comment and a pet peeve of mine: Be sure to leave room when you pull back in after passing another rider. No one enjoys having to brake in order to avoid hitting the rear tire of a passing rider. On a similar note, once you pass, don’t drop your pace so the rider passed is forced to come off their pace.

Andrea: Before I decide to pass someone, I check to see that the lane is clear – that no cars or bikes are coming up beside me. I won’t pass anyone unless I can sustain my pace for awhile and I am fast enough to overtake them quickly. Playing leapfrog, which happens when someone passes you and then slows down, is no fun. Silent, swift riders who pass me are one of my pet peeves. If you don’t know someone is coming up beside you, just a small swerve to the left could cause a huge crash.

We’ve touched on pacelines a bit in previous issues, but what are your thoughts on safety in a paceline – what to look out for, good habits to have, tips for those who want to join one, more pet peeves?

Dean: Participating in a paceline is one of the greatest joys of cycling. If I find one going a speed I think I can maintain, I’ll latch on whenever I can. And if I do latch on, the first order of business is to let the rest of the group know I’m there (and to ask if they’re cool with it). Part of participating in a paceline is taking a turn at the front. If you can’t chip in, you shouldn’t drop in. This holds true for a big paceline or a small one. I’m 6’6,” and in windy areas my backside is highly prized “view real estate.” I don’t mind people tucking in for a rest as long as they let me know they’re there and as long as they’re willing to drag me along for a bit as well.

Some people hate pacelines and think they have no place on a ride like Cycle Oregon. Unfortunately, a lot of people feel this way because they’ve seen WAY too many examples of pacelines exhibiting rude and dangerous behavior. Perhaps the biggest insult is that some of the worst offenders are groups of riders who are OBVIOUSLY experienced enough to know better. Passing too close, refusing to break up and merge with the rest of the riders in high-traffic areas and other antics simply should not have to be tolerated.

Dave: Pacelines are fun but inherently riskier riding. The amount of time to react to something happening in front of you is significantly reduced since you’re cruising along at higher than your average speed and a few inches off your paceline partner’s rear tire. To reduce some of the potential risks, a good team member in a paceline will warn you with voice and hand signs of any possible road junk, potholes, tree branches, bodies from other pacelines, etc. This is more than a courtesy, because any quick move to slow, stop or swerve can result in a major “yard sale.” It’s a common courtesy to ask to join a paceline, and if you join you are expected to do your rotation in pulling – taking the lead. If you can’t keep up, signal that you are moving out of the line and let them run. For me, there is a contradiction in wanting to be a part of a safe paceline and not having significant experience in riding with the others on the paceline. My pet peeve is pacelines that pass too closely at a fast speed. Give me some space!  Oscar: Pacelines can be a very efficient means of covering the miles. Riding with a well coordinated/communicative group can be almost like a dance, with riders rotating smoothly in and out of the lead and keeping everyone aware of the environment. Unfortunately, it doesn’t take much to mess up the dance. If you’re not experienced in riding pacelines, I suggest starting small (two or three riders), and not at the end of a long day when we all get dull-witted.

Andrea: Because of the high speeds and the close tolerances in pacelines, a small mistake can lead to a disaster. Everyone in the line has to pay strict, constant attention. I want to be able to trust that everyone in the line will ride a steady pace, watch the wheel in front of them, not make sudden movements, and signal obstacles, turns and stops. I am very reluctant to join a random paceline that just happens to pass by. Can I trust them? Can they trust me? Is going a little bit faster worth the risk of a possible train wreck?

Both my best and worst paceline experiences happened during the CO ride across the state in 2002. A group of us were trying to decide whether or not to attempt the 110-mile optional route from John Day to Mitchell. The strongest one in our group graciously offered to pull three of us for the first 40 miles. We cruised along the gradual downhill to lunch at the John Day Fossil Beds. By conserving our energy that way, we all were able to complete the long climb into Mitchell. A few days later, we were riding on a narrow, busy road on the way to Coburg. An acquaintance joined our paceline but rode erratically and sometimes rode two abreast. With the heavy traffic and narrow shoulder, this was extremely nerve-wracking for us. He didn’t heed our requests to stay single-file. Not wanting to jeopardize the safety of not only our group but the people around us, we eventually asked him not to ride with us.

The increasingly hot topic of music on the road: Do you ever listen to anything while riding? (Meaning, using headphones – and that includes all types of riding, from indoor training to solo rides to small groups…) Why or why not? When? Is your perspective different for a large ride versus training?

Dean: Most of the time, I do without it. It’s nice to hear the sounds of nature and great to chat with other riders. However, I’m a big fan of using music on long climbs. It helps pass the time, it can provide extra motivation, and it drowns out the continuous chorus of “On your left.” Oakley makes great glasses that incorporate headphones and an MP3 player into the setup. It allows you to keep the earbuds outside your ears so you can still hear what’s going on. Riding with speakers on your bike is a safer choice, but then you run the risk of interfering with the enjoyment of your fellow riders, who might not agree with your musical tastes.

Dave: I listen to the sunrise, the wind, cows, birds, horses, friends talking. (Oscar: Dave, or should I say “Moonbeam,” you’re starting to sound like an old hippie.) To each his/her own, but I didn’t go all the way to the boonies of Oregon to listen to Lady Gaga on my iPod. However, I do listen to news at the gym when I train in the winter, which is basically a distraction from the boredom. I have some of my best times riding on CO in the morning with someone a half-mile ahead or behind me and hearing nothing but the wind (if I lubed my chain the night before). Just like distractions when driving, cell phones, ear buds, texting, etc. are taking away from the experience and are potentially distracting to the point of being risky. Let’s be real: How many times have we all had a near-crash just trying to dig out a cell phone while riding? Come on… really! I say let the sucker ring and call back at the next Blue Room.  Oscar: I recall back in the late ‘80s seeing a guy with a rather large “blaster” mounted to the rear rack on his bike. At least cars could hear him coming, even if he couldn’t hear traffic. Seriously, I have not tried earbuds or other devices to be in a position of offering an opinion on how distracting they may or may not be.

Andrea: I never listen to my iPod while riding, primarily for safety reasons. I want to be able to hear if someone shouts a warning or says “On your left.” I want to stay alert and focused. Distractions like cell phones and iPods can take my attention off the road at critical moments – a pothole, a crack in the road, or the approach of an oncoming vehicle. Why take the risk?

Any other safety-related topics that you have encountered or feel strongly about?

Andrea: A rearview mirror is just as important to me as my helmet or bike shoes. If for some reason I forget to wear the mirror, I immediately notice it’s not there and turn around to get it. Because some people don’t say “On your left” and some cars are very quiet, I rely on my mirror, not just my ears, to know what’s behind or beside me. The mirror lets me see the receding road without breaking my cycling rhythm. Turning my head around to look takes more time, can throw me off balance, and can’t be done as often as a quick glance at the mirror.

And a few random/combined thoughts from Dave and Oscar:

• When you stop in the path of riders, signal that you’re slowing, and get off the pavement quickly. This is especially important if you’re riding as a group.
• If you’re passing on a high-speed descent, give others a wide berth with vocal alerts early, often and loudly.
• Stop at stop signs. Two thousand riders blowing through stop signs frustrates a lot of drivers.
• Riding two abreast is nice when there’s no competition from traffic and/or other riders. It’s irritating to see three to six riders taking up the lane.
• Once you pass someone, signal and move back to the right.
• One word of warning: Some riders when passing will call out “Five on your left” or however many riders are in their group. While I much prefer this to no warning, if you’re getting ready to jump on the back of their paceline, turn and take a good look before pulling in.  Pacelines have a habit of growing and shrinking on a regular basis, and what may have been a five-rider group may now be six or seven riders. Of course, one of the reasons I keep coming back to Cycle Oregon is that the grade of riders is generally a notch or two above your typical charity ride.  Few people sign up for a week of riding who aren’t serious about the sport.

And a reminder that the Cycle Oregon “Rules of the Road” are available in handy video format now – take a few minutes to enjoy this visual representation of our safety rules.

This year – as you obviously know since you’re reading this – we’re venturing into the world of social media, to give people even more ways to connect with, be part of and follow our event.  It’s a never-ending quest to refine the event for everyone involved.

One of the main focuses as we continually assess and improve the event is “How can we help first-time riders?” Veterans of Cycle O notice and appreciate our efforts to improve, but a lot of what we change is aimed at making it easier for first-timers to get excited about, and ready for, the event. Here’s an example: This year we’re adding an interactive site map of a typical camp site to staging.cycleoregon.com. The idea is, if you’ve never been around this traveling two-wheeled circus, you probably have no idea what it’s like to be in our sprawling, bustling camp. So we came up with idea of creating a generic map, with rollover pop-ups to explain the main resources and elements of our camp site. It’ll give you an idea of the breadth of services available, and give you a mental image of how things typically lay out.

And one more thought on this topic: A lot of what we implement has its roots in feedback from riders. So if you have a good idea for what we could do to make the event even better, let us know.