Water Boys

This was the third year that the LIVESTRONG Challenge rolled through San José, but the first time that I chose to support the event as a volunteer. It takes a good cause to rouse me from bed on a Sunday morning at 4:30 AM, to report for duty downtown at an hour when I am usually still sound asleep (even on a weekday).

The organization understands the value of recruiting volunteers from the local bike clubs—we know the terrain and the route well. As we assembled for our briefing, there were so many familiar faces that we joked about who would lead the ride today. We were released a few seconds ahead of the first participants, and for the first couple of miles we enjoyed a dream ride as we were paced by official vehicles through deserted city streets in a rolling road closure.

Despite following a shortcut to reach our assigned posts ahead of the pack, I was passed by the elite riders as I ascended the first real climb of the day. I positioned myself just above a tricky downhill curve on the course, where I would repeatedly warn riders "Sharp turn ahead!" My approach was effective—none of our riders crashed. [I heard that one of the elite riders ahead of us went down. They should know better.]

With the responsibility to watch 1,000 or more riders head into this familiar curve, I recognized a valuable opportunity to capture images of cornering technique on a bicycle. Whenever there was a sufficient break in the stream of riders heading downhill, I would point my camera at the haphazard descenders.

By the time the last of the 50-milers straggled by, I was so far behind the last 65-mile rider that I would never catch up to finish my job for the day as a riding course marshal. Arriving at the next rest stop as they were packing everything away, I stuffed my pockets with energy bars and accepted a ride forward to the next stop.

Continuing along the route, I monitored the riders I caught for signs of trouble. Throughout the day, I was fortunate not to face any serious incidents. There were riders whose legs seized up with cramps, in need of some electrolytes. There were riders who were fatigued, not having trained adequately; those I met needed only some encouragement and advice to sustain them up the next hill and on to the finish. I was surprised to learn how many people traveled from afar to do this ride. I was inspired by a cancer survivor from Toronto who was working hard to complete the 50-mile route. I was proud to ride alongside a woman from Idaho, riding 50 miles alone—the longest distance she had ever attempted. When she crossed the finish line, I was there to give her a high-five.

The two longer routes include a serious challenge: climbing Metcalf Road. Rumor had it that when he rode the inaugural San José LIVESTRONG Challenge in 2008, Lance Armstrong was "impressed" with Metcalf. As one of the century riders passed me on the hill, I remarked that this was the second time I had climbed Metcalf this year, and that was one time too many. "Or two," he replied.

This ascent was memorable, not only for the cheering section or the guy belting out his improvised tune about the hill, but especially for the water boys. A couple of moms set up along the roadside under beach umbrellas with their sons—armed with Super Soakers. Loading up as we approached, if you agreed to get wet they would enthusiastically take aim. Sheer brilliance! I am not sure who had more fun with this, the riders or the boys. Farther up the hill, a guy with a bucket of ice water wrung out a huge sponge over my head. Climbing Metcalf will never be this good ... well, until next year. Boys, I'm counting on you!