Beethoven’s Ode to Joy Miles 9360-9420 November 6

Our Second Saturday Miles 9420-9460 November 8

Rich Groves and Rodger Suchman are back. They were two of the six who gathered in spitting rain last Saturday for our ride to Orrick and breakfast at Fubbler’s Cove. They are two of the eight who gather this morning in the freezing cold for our ride to Lawson and breakfast at Catrick’s Café. First when it’s raining, then when it’s freezing. Not ideal bike riding weather. But so long as these two weather conditions do not pay us a simultaneous visit, we will ride.

Tom Strongman is here from Leawood, Nancy Culbertson and Sandy Hamilton from Overland Park. Kevin Brasfield from Gladstone. Michael Calabria from Blue Springs. Roger lives in Independence and Rich here in Liberty. We rendezvous in front of Biscari Brothers Bicycles. We reluctantly step from our heated cars and mumble to each other about how stupid we are as we pull on our cold-weather gear.

Promptly at 7:30 we mount our bikes and pedal in front of Price Chopper and Sutherlands over to Brown Street, where a left turn takes us across 291 Highway to Hurt Street. We turn right and make our way over to Mill Street and out past William Jewell College to B Highway and then Highway 69. We follow 69 to the far side of Excelsior Springs, where we turn right on Italian Way and come past American-Italian Pasta over to Salem Road. A left turn on Salem. Another eight miles brings us to Lawson.

The first of us arrive at 9:40; the last at 10:05. Catherine greets us. She pulls two long tables together so we can sit and talk. She brings pitchers of hot chocolate. Pancakes and eggs and biscuits and gravy pay welcome visits to our table.

A non-rider comes to sit beside me. “Hey, everybody, let me introduce Marvin Wright to you. I first met Marvin on an October Sunday afternoon in 1986, not far from here out on 69 Highway. I was riding my very first century that day. I had stopped at a service station to rest and get a drink. Marvin pulled in to get gas. He saw my bike. ‘Where you going,’ he asked.

“About 40 miles earlier a crazy idea had come to me. I decided to try it out on Marvin. I thought he would look shocked or amused, and I would know the idea was dumb and I could forget it. ‘I’m gonna ride across America,’ I said.

“His face lit up. ‘That’s marvelous,’ he said. ‘I’ll help you.’ And he pulled his truck off the driveway and we stood and talked until I had to leave. He did help. In major ways. And we have been friends ever since.”

Marvin had said he couldn’t stay long. But he does. He doesn’t leave until we all do. For an hour we linger at the table. Partly, I think we are in no hurry to step back into the cold. Mostly, though, we relish one another’s company. We know each other hardly at all. Rich, Michael and I are long-time biking buddies. But this group of eight has never ridden together and most had never met each other before this morning.

Rodger and Rich sit across the table from one another and discover they were recently at a wedding together, though they did not meet. I discover that Nancy and Sandy both work in Applebee’s corporate offices and know Bob Steinkamp. Bob and his wife, Cheryl, were students at Jewell in the late 1960’s. Bob has been in charge of Applebee’s legal department for years. “We love Bob. Do you know he’s retiring this year?” They ask.

Tom Strongman has brought his digital camera and takes lots of pictures. Kevin started riding just in April. He loves it. He rode the MS-150 in September. So did Nancy, Sandy and Tom.

The time comes for parting. “We will all ride our own pace going back,” I say “We may not see each other again. Thanks for coming. Please come next Saturday. We will ride to Sarah’s Table in Kearney.”

A three-inch nail embeds itself in Rich’s rear tire as we come near the Wal-Mart put up a few years back on the eastern edge of Excelsior Springs alongside 69 Highway. He calls his son, Jordan, on his cell phone and retires to Wal-Mart to await his arrival. Kevin has a flat and stops at the Pour Boy Station in the Mosby flats to repair it. Nancy and Sandy follow a misleading sign and ride an extra six miles.

I have just turned off 69 Highway onto B when Jordan passes me, Rich’s bike strapped to the back. The car pulls off the road and stops. Rich steps out. “Want a ride?” He asks. “Why not?” I respond. “It’s not like you’ll need the miles to make your 10,000.” Rich say.

Michael is the first one back. He waits at the bike shop for the rest of us. Dave Biscari won’t have his shop open next Saturday. That’s the first day of deer season. Dave and brothers, Bob and Alex will be out in the woods. Dave has sprouted a beard. “I always let it grow for deer season.” He says.

Tom and Rodger are at their cars when I get back. Last week and again today Rodger supplied head and foot warmers for bikers who needed them. “Thanks for being our supply master, Rodger,” I say. “No problem,” he says.

Tom tells me about having polio when he was young. Biking helps. We talk for a while about what we each have learned from our illness and how biking has come to the rescue. Then Nancy and Sandy ride up, exuberant and proclaiming, “We saw Liberty.”

We all load up. And by a little after one o’clock we are headed for the places we call home.