Cycle For Life: The Story of the 1991 Trans-Canada Record Attempt. Bill Psy.D. Narasnek

had been a wonderful experience really. I enjoy training and this had provided purpose and motivation in allowing me so much riding. And so it was done. How lucky!

      No injuries. No serious illness. Stronger and fitter than at any time in my life having trained at a pace worthy of any professional athlete.

      I had a good head start but was bone dry by the time they caught up. Fortunately the rest of the day went well and we arrived to be treated to a fantastic bar-b-q by the folks in Bracebridge.

      THE REASON

      It was hard not to be philosophic beforehand, and impossible afterwards. Why? Why do it? It's the same old question that’s been asked of mountaineers and, in essence, the answer is the same. Because it’s there!

      "Because it’s there" provides the opportunity. That is, to some, the alluring chance to test the outermost limits of one’s personal physical and mental capabilities. It is one of a few such challenges which provide the unique circumstances for singular, sustained effort of a sort capable of providing that extreme test of our limits bordering on the fine edge on disaster.

      HEADED WEST

      A ton of assorted equipment is strewn on our living room floor. What a glorious sight for a bicycle fanatic. What a dreadful mess for the fanatic’s wife! But there it was. Tires, tubes, chains, wheels, rain jackets, shoes, lights, socks, chainrings, gloves, helmets, and on the list goes.

      It's Sunday, June 30 and Lisa, Joe, and Jacques are on their way to meet me, in Lively, to head out to Vancouver. It's early morning, bright and sunny, and everyone's on time. The CHNO van is sparkling clean, serviced and ready to go. Our "Shamrock" motor home, white and trimmed with green, has already been packed by Lisa and Joe but we manage to squeeze in a few more bits and pieces and then pack the remainder of the gear into the mini-van after removing the rear bench seat.

      Battista arrives to see us off. Along with Al, Rick, and Shannon, Battista will fly out to Vancouver on the fourth of July. I can't believe it. After the months of preparation and training this is it. I'm saying goodbye to June. It's difficult. She's sacrificed as much as me to this point and now she'll be left behind to worry. The next time I'll see her we'll have logged nearly 4000 kilometres towards the record (I hope). I chose to drive out rather than fly. I felt I needed some isolation. Time to collect myself with no distractions or responsibilities. I wouldn't have to drive and rest was always available with the motor home. It proved a good decision. I spent most of the trip out with Jacques in the van. He was excellent company with our mutual interest in cycling, fitness, and music. The weather was good and we had regular contact with Joe and Lisa via our CB radio. With numerous pit stops to stretch and take in the scenery, we drove straight through to Medicine Hat in two days. This was done to give us more rest time in Vancouver. It also had the effect of causing Barry and Chris, who had started out ahead of us, to miss us on the road. We did not meet up with them until Vancouver.

      The Drive West: “I chose to drive out rather than fly. I felt I needed some isolation.”

      I spent considerable time mentally mapping the roads. They were lousy maps. A road looks entirely different when viewed from a car rather than a bike. I had myself in a frenzy on a few occasions. A frenzy which would reoccur each time I would think about the highway between Nipigon and Marathon and which would only be put at ease, eventually, by Battista.

      Another days' drive from Medicine Hat put us in Salmon Arm, B.C. The drive was enjoyable, for me, since I had never been further west than Thunder Bay. In Calgary we stopped long enough for Lisa and Joe to visit friends while Jacques and I headed further west on our bikes. Beautiful roads. Majestic mountains. Much better than all the pictures!

      A short final drive. Salmon Arm to Vancouver and a new frenzy. The mountains! Roads that climb forever.

      It's Wednesday, July 3rd, downtown at the Canadian Automobile Association office. They're great. They reserve us a campsite just across the bridge from downtown, past Stanley Park. A swimming pool, whirlpool, and a day and a half to rest.

      Lisa and Joe did some shopping and sightseeing while Jacques spent time with his sister. I rested and fidgeted with equipment. Thursday I did a short ride up a mountain overlooking the city. Beautiful. How nice it would be to spend some time.

      Thursday evening, Barry and Chris have found us. The plan is to get up Friday at 4:00 a.m. for a 5:00 a.m. start. The rest of the crew doesn't arrive until almost 9:00 p.m. They're quite a sight, in the campground, when they do arrive in a white stretch limousine which has been provided by the local Kidney Foundation. Greetings, discussions, and planning are hurried. We're ready, really, so nothing is urgent except to get enough sleep for a good start.

      The anticipation, growing to this point, peaks with the thought of 5:00 a.m. Only months of mental preparation, and fear, allow me to sleep.