Me on a CycleX group ride back in 2018: John Wilkinson was there 

As many know, cycling has been my raison d'etre since I was 15; I've left the sport at times, sometimes for multiple years, but always come back to it.  Yet, this seems to be the year where its dangers hit me full in the face, after ignoring it for decades.

The death of former CycleX owner and all around good-guy John Wilkinson shook me to my core and changed my relationship to road riding and racing this year in ways I will try to enumerate below.  

I did not know John super well.  I'd been on numerous group rides with him (one in particular was documented on the CycleX Instagram page above--I'm the guy on the red bike in the middle and I think John took this photo while we were all going up Old Plank at 20mph), talked to him at the shop, seen him a huge number of times riding his fixed gear on the Katy Trail.  He was always friendly and helpful at the shop, always giving a wave when I saw him on the trail.  He was a fixture in Como; I hadn't even known he'd move out to Colorado.  I cannot imagine the pain and loss his close friends and family have gone through in his absence. 

The brutal way in which he was killed made me think of all the hours I spent road riding when I, myself, lived in Colorado, near the towns of Breckenridge and Fairplay, in the late 1990s. 

Visiting Colorado again this past week, I was struck by the rude, abusive drivers in the intra-mountain areas as well as on the front range.  I was tailgated, dangerously and precipitously, by several cars while driving on the Peak to Peak highway, even though I was going the speed limit.  I had to pull over multiple times to let these kamikaze drivers pass, risking my own safety and my family's safety by pulling over on treacherous pullouts. 

I reflected, whilst driving up Hoosier Pass a little over a week ago, how this was a normal training ride for me back in the day--with a lowest gear of 39-23 no less!  Cars were flying up this mountain pass at over 65 mph, there was no shoulder.  Considering the lack of safe bailout options, I still consider myself lucky that I wasn't hit on Colorado Highways 9 or 285 on training rides. What makes the whole thing even worse, considering Colorado drivers, is the fact that John was in a large, spacious bike lane when he was hit.  

At this point, a little over half a century of living, the list is expansive of those who were my friends and acquaintances who have been maimed or killed by cars while riding.  I'll just start with my good friend Tracy's father, and who's wedding I was best man at; struck down at about my own current age by a drunk driver while riding in Ft. Madison Iowa.  This was followed by the deaths of others from Iowa I knew, Chris Lillig being one of them.  As I've kept living, the list has gotten longer and more expansive.  A good friend (also named John) was most likely hit by a car in a grand fondo 11 years ago, which paralyzed him from the waist down.  We do not exactly what happened because he was found alone, there were no witnesses.  

I could hardly watch the Tour de France this year, when previous years I would be glued to stages.  I could not stomach the crashes or sight of these young healthy athletes bloodied; some with reshaped careers in what would now be lesser selves because of their injuries.  I read about the deaths in gran fondos this year, ostensibly not races for most of those involved, humans wiped out by careless or drunk drivers. 

Instead of the Tour final stage, I watched Wimbledon reruns.

The sense of irony is not lost on me, in this regard.  I got into cycling because it was so low impact and good for my own health as a young athlete.  I tried to be a runner but was constantly injuring myself.  I was quite decent at tennis and soccer as well, but these sports were not without nagging injuries, even at a young age. Cycling was, and still is, a revelation in that regard.  Furthermore, I still love nearly everything about road riding on seldom traveled country roads, the zen of a quiet country road and the speed and smoothness of it.  

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Yet, I could not shake the chill and the nauseous feelings I had out on the roads this summer. 

By the time the heat really started amping up, I was mostly spending my time riding inside.  July was spent mainly on Zwift and restarting the great sport of tennis.  Zwift racing has been amazing.  I've met some new friends through it and find the competition fierce but without the danger. But, aside from that, I just didn't have the heart to think about training and racing. The season felt over for me, before it began. It's almost as if the culmination of the years of tragedy finally caught up to me, psychologically.  This sport is all about health and life to me.  Sure, it has some dangers, but it mostly about becoming the best person one can, while competing and riding.  I look ahead and wonder if competitive cycling is in my future. 

I am still working on articulating these feelings right now, but the culmination of so many tragedies has amplified, considerably, my own sense of fear, helplessness and exposure while cycling on roads. Surely it will pass. 

Be safe out there.