The tension was palpable as hundreds of cyclists, decked out in colorful Lycra outfits, waited to begin the 50-mile Half-Century Ride from the Santa Fe Railroad Yards (home to Santa Fe, New Mexico's museums, restaurants, and weekly farmers' market) and finally, we rode through town, trailed by eight police officers on motorcycles guarding intersections.
We drove past the Roundhouse, where the New Mexico State Capitol meets, and Museum Hill, with its four museums covering Native American Southwest, Spanish colonial history, and more. Finally, after about 12 miles, Santa Fe was far away and we were left alone driving through the rolling ranch country.
It was the second day of a two-day cycling event that draws more than 1,500 participants each spring for the companionship and challenge of riding together through high desert terrain rich in history, art and indigenous traditions. I was the only one on a handcycle during the Half Century Trek.
A handcycle is a bicycle that the rider sits on or lies on, cranks with their hands, and propels themselves using their arms rather than their legs. My handcycle is lightweight, Swedish-made, and has an electric-assist motor, which is a must for someone like me who can't move his legs.
My arms will feel it
Twelve years ago, while leading a climb in Joshua Tree National Park in Southern California, I made a terrible mistake and fell 40 feet onto unforgiving rocks. The fall split my spine, severed my spinal cord, and left me paraplegic.
After a long rehabilitation, I realized that of all the things I couldn't do, the thing I missed the most was cycling. Before my injury, cycling had been a big part of my life ever since my parents bought me a 3-speed Raleigh when I was 12. I later cycled the coastal mountains of Southern California, joined cycling clubs, and even tried my hand at bike racing.
Handcycling was a way for me to experience the freedom and adventure that was missing from my life after my accident. It was very hard at first, but with the help of the electric assist motor, I found I could keep up with my able-bodied friends. I still needed to prove to myself that I could ride long distances, so I joined the Half Century.
The bike ride will take you through a variety of terrain, from flat to hilly, on the way back to Santa Fe. By the time you finish in a few hours, your arms will be exhausted.
'On your left!'
I accelerated as hard as I could for the first few miles, trying to conserve my e-battery for the big hills coming up. I'd been preparing for this ride for months and knew that building arm muscles would improve my hand-cycling power and strength. But according to Paul M. Gordon, dean of the School of Health, Human Performance, and Recreation at Baylor University in Waco, Texas, arm muscles never match the power that leg muscles can generate, mainly because of differences in muscle mass.
But electric assist can make up for lack of muscle strength, allowing riders with spinal cord injuries to keep pace with those who pedal with their feet. My tricycle has an electric motor in the front wheel, powered by a lithium battery behind the seat. Turning the crank adds power, and a switch adjusts the amount of assist.
But even as faster riders passed me, I wasn't ready to crank up the battery power just yet. I suppressed my competitive urge to chase them as we passed horse ranches, old cemeteries and churches that reflect New Mexico's Spanish history.
A long line of cyclists snaked along Highway 14, a scenic byway between Santa Fe and Albuquerque known as the Turquoise Trail, named for the area's rich history of turquoise mining. Windmills turned slowly, providing water for cattle dotted through the pinyon-juniper forests.
About 22 miles in, I stopped at a food station staffed by friendly volunteers to devour a peanut butter sandwich and sip a Gatorade, then continued on, passing signs for pottery studios and craft breweries. The area, including the village of Galisteo, has long been a favorite destination for artists, attracted by the high desert light and blend of Spanish, Native American and Anglo cultures.
We passed the turnoff and headed toward Lamy station, where 80 years ago physicists got off the train from the East and headed to Los Alamos to help Robert Oppenheimer build the first atomic bomb. At this point, like any Tesla driver far from home, I was feeling anxious about range and wary of the battery. I'd used up about half the power.
Spring is generally the windiest season in New Mexico, and today was no exception as I rode into a headwind. My arms were working so hard I decided it was time to increase the electric assist to compensate for the extra effort.
Knowing I had enough battery power to get me up the hill, my confidence grew and I started to pass other riders. My arms still got tired going uphill, but they recovered as I coasted downhill. “On the left!” I yelled as I passed other riders.
Handcycling as therapy
Five years ago, I tried handcycling at Craig Hospital near Denver, where Tom Carr is director of therapeutic recreation. Handcycling is a key tool in Craig's rehabilitation program, which specializes in patients with spinal cord injuries and traumatic brain injuries.
“We can safely and effectively treat patients with spinal cord injuries soon after they are admitted to the hospital by putting them on a handcycle,” Carr says. “The feeling of the wind blowing through their hair is something they will never get to experience again.” Carr adds that he has become a big advocate of power-assist bikes, “especially for patients who are using them for the first time.”
But handcycles aren't cheap; they can cost anywhere from $10,000 to $15,000 or more. Fortunately, people with spinal cord injuries or other conditions that prevent them from riding a regular two-wheeled bike can try one out before they buy. For example, Bike-On, a Rhode Island bike shop that specializes in handcycles, offers test-ride clinics around the country. And the Kelly Brush Foundation in Vermont, founded by an athlete injured in a skiing accident, offers grants to help with the cost of sports equipment for people with disabilities. The foundation's website has links to organizations across the country that offer handcycle experiences.
The adventure is complete
The end of the ride was nearing. Although I enjoyed the bonding time with my group, after 3.5 hours on the bike, I was ready for my cycling adventure to end. My arms were tired and my battery was dead, but I knew I could make it to the end.
The final few miles followed the Old Pecos Trail and part of the original Route 66 through the winding streets of old Santa Fe. Long before European settlers arrived, the trail served as a trade route between the Pueblo, Apache, and Comanche tribes. Today, the trail passes by the luxury hotels, restaurants, and art galleries that have made Santa Fe a major tourist destination. I continued on my bike, nearing the finish line.
Finally, we arrived back at the railyard area and a volunteer handed me my finisher's medal with ribbon. I accepted it happy, tired and proud. Even though my legs couldn't move, I felt the wind in my hair and once again felt that sense of accomplishment that comes with completing a long bike ride.
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