Well, I just finished my first official DALMAC bike tour (The “Dick Allen Lansing to Mackinaw Tour”).
About 1000 riders tour along several different route options from mainstreet Michigan up through the farmlands to the northwoods on small roads and through small towns, for 4 or 5 days, for 300-400 miles total, then they take a group bus back home.
All ages, types and speeds do this 30+-year-old tour which is hosted by my local club, the TCBA, and run largely by club volunteers. If I keep doing it I plan to work a tour every few years.
This tour is a bargain at about $150. They take your luggage in a truck to each school-field campsite down the road. They serve dinner and breakfast at the school cafeterias. We get our own lunches along the way during the day, but they also stops where groups put on a lunch feed.
Last year when I finally remembered to sign up for the ride, in March, the routes were already full, so I tried riding along with the tour while carrying my own luggage, camping and eating on my own just to see what it was all about, but I got flack from ride officials. This time I signed up earlier and got in. My Chicago friend Chris also signed up.
I trained for my 4-day tour, which covers 75-100 miles a day, from Lansing north to Mackinaw City, by riding 25-mile club rides once a week. It wasn’t good training.
On my self-supported tour last year I figured out that I could happily get by with 14 pounds of equipment. One is allowed to load two duffles onto the tour van and I somehow put at least the 40-pound limit into each of them. Ugh! Even carrying them around the campsite area was hard.
DAY ONE: MSU to Mt. Pleasant
On the day the tour started I rode into town to Chris’s mom’s house where he was staying and we then rode to the start at MSU at about 7:30. Hundreds of bikers were unloading out of cars, loading luggage and rolling out. We’d driven our duffles over the night before.
We then had a fine blue-sky day riding north through farmland and small towns with moderate crosswinds.
We took a long lunch break at a VFW Hall halfway and layed down in the grass awhile. Rode into Mt. Pleasant in fine shape in the early evening.
Boy, there are tons of recumbents on this ride! Here’s a pic of one view of the streetfront at the VFW…
There was a night football game set to play near where our tour group was tenting on campus fields. As we rode throught the weedy, barren outskirts of town I saw funny shapes in the road a long way ahead. As we got closer I saw they were clusters of drunks stumbling along the busted up shoulder of the road. Then I saw there were bunker-like apartment buildings rising up out of the weeds just beyond the nearly ruined highway. This was about a mile from campus, no sidewalks, just some abandoned-looking light industry. The drunks of Drunkville U. were already hollering in support of their team, the Fighting Drunks. As we set up our tents, clusters of them stumbled through our midst on their way, making hooting sounds—the cry of the wild drunk. Thankfully they lost because later on it was quiet—none of the usual rioting and burning. Our little tent village of 500 tents in 5 acres slept soundly.
Here’s one of our villages…
DAY TWO: MP to Lake City
We woke up at 6:30 and packed. In the midst of it I stood up and looked around. Ours were the only tents still up. Yikes! We’re left behind!
(I won’t mention that Chris forgot his tent and thankfully was able to ride out and buy a nice cheap Eureka and be back only a half hour later.)
On the way out of town I noticed an old touring bike with twine-wrapped bars and plenty of classic accessories. Sure enough, it was Len Provencher’s! We visited awhile and rode out of town with him. He’s an old-time USCF race official who’s ref’ed several World Champs and worldclass races. I recall seeing him and his signature handlebar mustache back in the day at the Coors Classic in Colorado. He still likes the bike!
Our meeting with the old “Road Fox” started a pattern that lasted the whole tour. We soon got to feeling frisky and Len waved us on. We zoomed away at 20mph. We rode hard and then took long breaks to rest our aching bones. Every time we did, for the next days, we’d glance out the cafe window or what have you and there Len would roll on by! It was darn hard staying ahead of him and his 13mph pace! In the end, he finished the tour before me.
Observation A: In general, fast or slow we’d all meet up at rest spots soon enough. And we all took a day getting where we were going. Still, it seemed like steadiness is the best way to get there sooner (if you care). It’s more effective than speed.
Observation B: Except I also noticed another thing throughout the whole tour: when I went slow I got all sore and achy. When I went fast, I felt great! I now think that different bikes or set-ups like different speeds. For a slow ride you want a bike that’s comfy to sit *in*—a cush seat and high bars. For speed you want a bike that lets you *float*, putting the weight of both butt and hands onto your blazing thighs. The two modes don’t mix. This trip I think my RB1 bike was set up for speed, because that’s what felt best. (Its bars were high but not quite to seat height.)
Another thing we noticed was how *strong* some of the women riders were. Women often seemed to be the leaders of their riding groups, pulling the strongest all day.
Near the end of the day Chris and I stopped for a break in a little farm town where the grocery is the hardware is the gun shop. We bought peaches. Chris bought a feed hat. They also had a long barrel Savage 99 lever action with schnabel fore-end and highly curved metal buttplate—a real classy oldie. There was a buxom young mother with kid in shopping cart buying groceries. The mom was wearing a tight t-shirt that had a picture of a kid sucking a lollypop. The shirt caption said “Wanna lick?” I about had a heart attack.
At Lake City near Cadillac we set up camp at the high school. The music teacher is a biker and he opens the school and sets things up.
Both Chris and I noted that folks didn’t seem to appreciate us strolling around admiring their bikes and tents. Sigh.
People seemed to stick to their groups. We liked to visit here and there.
We rode along and chatted with the guy below on an ancient Bianchi track bike fixie. He said he was 59, a Viet Vet, and that he’d ridden that bike on 30-40 centuries. No brakes! Whoa! He was fast.
An older local-looking guy was riding a very nice Brompton folding bike around. Turns out he’s a lifestyle pilot who lives at the local airport in a hangar-house. Rather eccentric.
We heard that at the end of the day the music teacher, Frank, puts on a little music show. We told the pilot then we went. He said he’d ride home quick and drive back.
It was a great one-man show of singersongwriter stuff with guitar and sometimes accordian. Frank had a local friend, Kate from Cadillac, come up and join him. They did a wild version of a Lucinda Williams tune. What a great way to unwind after a day of riding! Frank plugged our statewide heroes Seth and Daisy May. They’re local, too. Seth was his student. He should get them to join him! They could sell CDs. I’d even gladly pay a cover. Have a DALMAC Fest! Music and bikes really do go together.
When we got back to our tents there was a mint condition Corvair Corsa parked nearby. Gotta be the pilot! It was.
DAY THREE: LC to Central Lake
Next day at 6 a.m. we got up and packed. When I stood up and looked around we were again the last ones! But we were getting closer.
Yet Another Observation: Another funny thing is that I started the tour with a handlebar bag and big saddlebag. But every day I left more and more stuff behind until I had just my toolbag under my saddle and my snacks in my jersey pockets. Lighter seemed so much better! Speaking of which, we noticed that the most common bikes were carbon Treks. Light! There were maybe only a dozen steel bikes. —But almost a hundred recumbents!
One More Observation: Not many bikes or jerseys look good these days. A few nice vintage bikes and jerseys could really spruce things up. Dark red and dark green Trek carbon bikes from a few years ago look nice, though. The nicest bike was a classy steel tricolor Colnago Master (chrome lugs). My ’74 red Paramount with chrome lugs would be second, though. And my new-found garage-sale orange mint Bottecchia, also with chrome lugs, would be third. Chris said my vintage Team Miyata jersey was a winner.
As we hit the streets I found myself riding with our same old posse. (It was funny how all during the whole tour we kept finding ourselves riding near the same people even if they were fast or slow.) I rolled slowly in the cool morning alongside one of the gals. She then decided to pull over and give some stuff to her gal friend just behind us. As we eased over at a stop sign a ruckus broke out. I looked behind us and there were a hundred bikers swerving around! I kept right on riding so as to not cause any more disturbance. Where’d they all come from? Soon thereafter a group of fast Detroit Wolverine tandems came blazing past with about 30 singles in their wake. I’d heard from my club pals that the fastest groups were led by tandems. This looked like them! I hopped on. I’d been wanting to see what it was like on one of the freight trains. I’d wait for Chris down the road at the first big rest stop.
The train rolled at over 30mph sometimes. The hills, bumpy pavement and high speed caused us to shed riders one at a time until there were just 6 of us left. and made sure I was tucked behind a huge Wolverine…until he finally gave it up as well. Tiny 75-year-old TJ Hill was glued into the rear seatstays of a huge Wolverine for awhile until he had to give it up, then I made sure to grab that wheel myself! ‘Til he in turn bagged it. I hung on by my fingernails. What fun! I knew one of the single riders from racing days. When he drifted back from taking a pull his face was dripping drenched with sweat. At 8:30 a.m. already! And they were doing the 100 mile option. I was just going 75 miles. I almost took a pull just to say I did, but chickened out. Then soon enough we were at the first 25-mile break stop. It was like I took a fast elevator to the front of the tour. All my pals who’d started when we were still packing our tents were just arriving. They were surprised to see me. Now that’s the way to make up time! The tandem train rolled on. I waited for Chris.
We fell in with a mid-range group of a dozen team-jersey riders. A radiant, attractive pro racer girl was the strongest of their bunch. As we rode along Chris feigned disinterest in the subject of beauty. But as we rotated through the group I saw that he would luck out and get to ride alongside the speedy wonder. Suddenly Chris was riding extra hard! He was leading the way with cape flying. The girl was superfast up the steepest hill. But Chris was amazingly just as fast. Later that evening he realized that he’d hurt his knee. Ironically that was the same hill that last year I hurt *my* knee on while trying to keep up with a gal friend from old days on Mackinaw Island. Ah yes…
Later on these team people started getting wobbly but didn’t slow down. A guy almost hooked the guy next to him at the front of the group. I laughed, sitting behind them. But then the guy next to me rubbed wheels in front of him and barely avoided crashing. After we regrouped and calmed down the guy who had been in front then ran into me! Again, I didn’t really care, but they were losing it. My own take is that I’m personally able to avoid the results of other people’s riding, but in short order we let them go. We had also been passing other riders and small groups in really fast, tight riding conditions. With camper trailers passing us all in turn. All at the same time. On blind hills. We finally gave up the action stuff and stopped for peaches at an orchard.
We had lunch in Elk Rapids by all that deep blue-green water that flows through town to the lake. Then we rode up the shore of Torch Lake, where the Labor Day partiers were in full swing with a raft of over a hundreds boats out on the sparkling blue waters.
Soon the 100 mile riders started joining back up with us on our shorter route. We were an hour from camp. Chris said, If only we had a tandem to pull us! Suddenly the superfast Wolverine tandem crew from my fast ride in the morning came flying past. I said Jump on! and I did. It was great to ride the last part fast with them. I even got to take a pull—for maybe 30 seconds!
The lady stoking the fastest tandem is really something. Nickname “Quadzilla,” she must be a powerlifter. What an amazing physique! I thought she looked cool. After the ride I thanked them for the lift and both she and her captain were astonishingly softspoken.
At camp my fast club friends Dave and Doug invite us to camp near them and to set up chairs with the racers. Every evening they circle their camp chairs and hang out. But Chris and I tended to just stroll around and hang out on our own. We have a little bourbon in coffeecups and puff on our pipes. We read “Vintage Bicycle Quarterly.” We also visit some with the fast clubbies.
I find myself torn. There’s the sightseeing and lollygagging. Then there’s the racer blasters. I like both approaches. But the combination causes tension in my brain. Basically, this whole tour has been a sensory overload for me. There’ve been conflicting signals coming every which way.
Heck, I don’t wear a wedding ring and as we stroll around visiting folks I think I’m getting more smiles from the ladies than I deserve.
We meet a 10-yr-old boy who’s been doing centuries for years already. He looks and acts like a regular boy. I’ve seen quite a few kids about 10 years old on this ride, with their families, some on singles, some tandems. There’s also quite a few fast riders in their 70’s as well. Including Wolverine lifer TJ Hill who wears a feather in his helmet and who sang an amazing rousing union song for us all at the music show.
Dave and Doug are nice enough to invite us to ride with them each morning. But it seems like their pace is a hard way for us to start the day, at least on this first tour. Yet if I don’t start with them sometime then I’ll never see them again on a given day. So I decide to join them the next morning. Chris wants to stick with sightseeing.
DAY FOUR: CL to Mackinaw City!
Chris was woken up earlier than anyone due to naughty-kid firecrackers. I didn’t hear a thing, but his camp zipper zipping woke me up. We’re packed a half hour earlier yet. I stand in line for breakfast with a couple blind riders (they ride in front and their sighted stokers behind them tell them when turns are coming up) (ahem). Then we finally start with the main group!
Even More Observation: The food lines are a fun place to meet and visit with people even though I normally can’t stand lines.
I wonder about the demographics of this crowd. I bet it’s changed since the 70’s. Their 6 a.m. wake-up seems pretty Type-A! But I’m not vexed by the early rising. All those zippers in the morning are quite the unusual alarmclock. (My Mackinaw Island friend from last year said “Once was enough!” for her DALMACking…”All those zippers before the sun even rises!”)
I’ve heard that Special Forces troops camp so much that they like to always look good. They use electric razors in the bush and don’t even get their clothes messy. They know how to stay clean and it’s important to them for morale because they camp most of each year. Steve Landick, a canoe adventure hero, was a Navy Seal. A friend watched him break camp once. He wakes up and slowly crawls backwards out of his tent, packing things behind him as he goes. When he stands up he has two small packed duffles at his feet. No wasted motions. We tried to imitate such skills and find ourselves packing much better.
Hmm, come to think of it: this scene is kind of military. We’re under pressure to be organized and on time and we wait in lines for showers, toilets and food. We’re getting up at o-dark-thirty. Well, there are pro’s and con’s to it all: we’re up and at ’em nice and early. We get to meet nice folks while standing in those lines and at “chow.” At least I haven’t seen anyone guarding their food tray with their arm…
Sure enough the day my fast club pals start fast. I blast with their superfast tandem for the first hour but then due to lingering morning cobwebs I get dropped in some rollers and wait up for Chris. This tandem is stoked by another amazing woman rider—she got voted for having the best legs in the USA by Bicycling magazine. I can see why!
This was going to be my first 100-mile day in decades!
A Final Observation: Many people wore longsleeves and tights all day every day even though it was in the high 70’s. That was weird!
Chris and I eventually catch up to the toodling Len “The Road Fox.” Today is the day of The Wall—a long grade with an 18% final pitch. Len says he wants to see me go up the Wall in that double racing chainset of mine. We then ride on and take a couple more breaks. I notice Len roll through town ahead of us. Finally comes time to hit The Wall. At the foot of it…we roll past Len. Hilarious! It looks like he gets to see if I can ride it. Who knows! I fly up it just fine and wait at the top. Len rolls over and on ahead…yet again.
Near the end there were a couple lovely stretches of twisty, humpy road along the big lake, with harbors and boats beckoning. Chris’s knee hurt but I just loved blasting through these sections. I finished the day’s century ride just flying along in my big gear…and met Len “The Road Fox” at our final luggage drop in Mackinaw City.
We had a great time on DALMAC. We’re thinking of getting our wives to do it next year. We’ll pick the slower 5-day route. There should be more families on it and a mellower overall tone, less temptation to go too fast. Maybe Henry could ride the back of the tandem. Maybe I’d ride my ‘bent. We plan to bring picnics with us. And to pack lighter overall so we can include appetizer supplies in our duffles: prosciutto, old cheese, sourdough, olives, wine. That’ll tide us over til we have to stand in the dinner line. Oh yeah! Then maybe another year I’ll meet up with my fast buddies every morning and see how that goes. Takes all kinds!
