Meet Bob. Well, many of your already know him. Bob Hammond worked at camp "back in the day." So... Remember Bob?
He signed up to ride the 22 mile loop in our 3rd Annual Bike to the Bitter. If you, like me, have met Bob - you probably just titled your head and thought - really? Bob's gonna ride 22 miles on a bike?
That is exactly how he hooked sponsors into giving him $20 if completed the ride. He was really proud to have raised a lot of money and prove all of us skeptics wrong! He sent the letter below to all his supporters - and gave me permission to share it with you.
He signed up to ride the 22 mile loop in our 3rd Annual Bike to the Bitter. If you, like me, have met Bob - you probably just titled your head and thought - really? Bob's gonna ride 22 miles on a bike?
That is exactly how he hooked sponsors into giving him $20 if completed the ride. He was really proud to have raised a lot of money and prove all of us skeptics wrong! He sent the letter below to all his supporters - and gave me permission to share it with you.
Well, (and that's a deep enough topic on its own!) I made it! I've got the pictures to prove it. And so do you. Starting and finishing, I was still vertical and breathing.
As you can see, I talked a dear friend from Citi into riding with me. As it turned out we went around the 20 mile loop - backwards. But, hey, I was on course. It only adds to the grand mythology of Camp and certainly my own stories.
Chris, Pam (my partner), Barb, and I met for breakfast at the Smyrna Diner at 7:00am Saturday morning and headed out on one of the finest days we've seen this September. Scattered clouds (big, puffy cotton balls heralding a pleasant temperature and humidity), beautiful sunrise, and the lighter than usual post-Labor Day traffic made the drive down to Camp a very pleasant ride.
We arrived just in time to stretch and start with a crew of young, eager riders. When we got to the first branching of the loop the old man pulled out his map, obviously consulted the I-ching instead of the instructions, and said "hey, Scott and Kevin are just a couple miles up the path, we go this way". Off we went.
At the rest stop with the guys we figured out we were going around the loop backwards. Since it would have added about 6 miles to the total, turning back was not really an option. What's the phrase, "soldier on"? Off we went again.
By the time we passed the bulk of the other riders we were about half-way round. Pace is pace and ours was doing just fine. We traded leads several times with each other (Pam and I) and mostly stayed in sight of the four girls I'd misled into thinking I knew where I was going.
As you can see, I talked a dear friend from Citi into riding with me. As it turned out we went around the 20 mile loop - backwards. But, hey, I was on course. It only adds to the grand mythology of Camp and certainly my own stories.
Chris, Pam (my partner), Barb, and I met for breakfast at the Smyrna Diner at 7:00am Saturday morning and headed out on one of the finest days we've seen this September. Scattered clouds (big, puffy cotton balls heralding a pleasant temperature and humidity), beautiful sunrise, and the lighter than usual post-Labor Day traffic made the drive down to Camp a very pleasant ride.
We arrived just in time to stretch and start with a crew of young, eager riders. When we got to the first branching of the loop the old man pulled out his map, obviously consulted the I-ching instead of the instructions, and said "hey, Scott and Kevin are just a couple miles up the path, we go this way". Off we went.
At the rest stop with the guys we figured out we were going around the loop backwards. Since it would have added about 6 miles to the total, turning back was not really an option. What's the phrase, "soldier on"? Off we went again.
By the time we passed the bulk of the other riders we were about half-way round. Pace is pace and ours was doing just fine. We traded leads several times with each other (Pam and I) and mostly stayed in sight of the four girls I'd misled into thinking I knew where I was going.
Bob's "Blondtourage" & fellow backwards bikers
About 3/4 around the loop we stopped for a break at the radio controlled airfield Terry Carmine (the former Property Manager at camp for 45 years) used to fly out of. Still a beautiful day, no dramatic rise in temps, and the breeze/pressure combination kept the humidity down. I’m sure you in the Southeast and any sailors out there know how much I detest an over-abundance of humidity. I can stand it but I've got no use for it.
As you can see, both Pam and I crossed the official finish line. This completes the validation required by your attorneys and financial advisors to release the funds in support of your pledges :)
On a personal note, a steroid shot in my left hand on Thursday had already started acting by the weekend. This will have a very positive impact on my outlook for both guitar and sailing.
As you can see, both Pam and I crossed the official finish line. This completes the validation required by your attorneys and financial advisors to release the funds in support of your pledges :)
On a personal note, a steroid shot in my left hand on Thursday had already started acting by the weekend. This will have a very positive impact on my outlook for both guitar and sailing.
Top Row: Bob Hammond, Dave Willis, Steven "Wigger" Caroll & Steve Johns Bottom Row: Jim Feaster & Walt Lafontaine
I've included a picture of several of the old crew from way back when. All of you on the Camp side will laugh or cry and my family will either know or have heard stories of them also.
I've been on a kick to stay conscious in my own aging. It seems to make patience and acceptance an easier journey to take. As Aunt Helen taught Ma, "growing old is not for sissies". Riding around the countryside on a fine September day with five beautiful blondes doesn't hurt, either.
I'll stop now as I've greatly exceeded the 100 word limit my colleague in London lives by. Thanks for all of your support! I'll be back next year to do this again. It's really great to be part of a win/win on so many levels.
Thanks and Regards,
Bob
I've been on a kick to stay conscious in my own aging. It seems to make patience and acceptance an easier journey to take. As Aunt Helen taught Ma, "growing old is not for sissies". Riding around the countryside on a fine September day with five beautiful blondes doesn't hurt, either.
I'll stop now as I've greatly exceeded the 100 word limit my colleague in London lives by. Thanks for all of your support! I'll be back next year to do this again. It's really great to be part of a win/win on so many levels.
Thanks and Regards,
Bob
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