International Trike Racing

I'm still laughing about this...

Today I went for a nice long ride back into farm country. About four hours into the ride, I came upon a steep decent down into a valley. I took it. Moving along at around 70+ down the hill, I saw a police car with flashing lights blocking the road at the bottom. As I got closer the officer noticed me barreling along and waved me onto a side road. My first thought of course was that he was stopping me for going too fast (I could see the headlines now - disabled man on strange human-powered vehicle pulled over for speeding). But as I turned onto the road he indicated, I suddenly found myself amongst a horde of bicycle racers in their logo emblazoned spandex and flags of their home countries. All along both sides of the road were people cheering them on. It was an international bicycle race and the police officer, thinking I must have got off course, had waved me right into the thick of it.

You can see me in the picture - red vest and helment, and of course the only trike - trailing the pack of bicycle racers.

Of course I could not turn around - I would have run right into the racers. There was nothing for it - I was part of the race. So tired as I was after four hours riding in the back country,  I put the pedal to the metal so to speak, and vowed not to embarrass myself too much. The people cheered, young rather attractive women in skimpy outfits waved and shouted encouragement... and every single person in the race passed me as if I was standing still. Oh the shame! Of course their bikes were maybe 10 lbs each and my trike was fully loaded for touring. They were also younger than I, and their bodies worked properly on both sides (unlike mine). But still...

Anyway, on I went. What choice did I have - the side roads (escape routes) were all blocked off by the police and crowds. But to the wild applause of the people lining the road, I continued pumping away along the course - and reached the end dead last. Hooray!. People took my picture as I approached the finish line. They shouted congratulations. The real racers started to applaud. But just as I pulled up to the finish line there was an empty side road and a space in the crowd. I swerved and bolted for it, pedalling off toward home for all I was worth to the astonished faces of the assembled throng.

When I got home and told my wife she could not stop laughing. It was pretty funny - the only trike rider, an unwitting participant in an international bike race