RAAM Report : An Official’s Perspective

Every year after I complete my work with RAAM, I sit down to try to share my experiences. And every year, it gets harder and harder to find the right words. I think that must be because of how much this particular race moves closer to my heart each year. Before I get too far ahead of myself, let me first explain RAAM for those who may be unfamiliar with it.

RAAM (short for “Race Across America”) started in 1982 as the “Great American Bike Race” when 4 riders raced from Los Angeles to New York City. Over the next decade, the race experienced a number of changes, including the addition of relay teams in 1992. Since 2006, the race has run from Oceanside, California to Annapolis, Maryland (over 3000 miles) and includes solo and team divisions (2, 4, or 8 riders) of a variety of ages, types of bikes, and is open to males and females. It includes roughly 170,000 feet of climbing as it passes through a dozen states. Hundreds of riders come from all around the globe to compete in this ultra endurance test for the ultimate prize—to be considered an official “RAAM Finisher”–a title fewer people claim in the 34 years of the race total than climb Mt Everest yearly. Many of the racers also ride to raise money or awareness for charity, making this race not only thrilling but also philanthropic.

Logistically, solo riders started this year on Tuesday, June 16th with the RAW (Race Across the West) soloists and teams. RAW is a considerably shorter race sponsored by RAAM that occurs on the same course concurrently until RAW’s conclusion in Colorado. The RAAM teams started on Saturday, June 20th. Once they’ve started, they have a gps tracker that allows officials and headquarters to know where the riders are at all times. Fans can follow along also on the RAAM website this way. Once they’re off, that’s it. It’s not a stage race with official starts and stops. Rather, they set their pace for riding and resting until they reach Maryland. Along the way, they have a number of “Time Stations” they are required to call into HQ as they pass. First one to Maryland, wins! This year, that honor went to Severin Zotter of Austria who completed the 3004 miles in 8 days, 8 hours, and 17 minutes.

This year’s route seemed especially difficult with the weather—very high heat in the deserts out west, extreme winds across Kansas, flooding around the Mississippi, and severe storms through the east. As a result, quite a few riders had to withdraw with illness, injury, or exhaustion. Several riders were also involved in accidents, some quite severe. These are tragedies that riders respond to with great solidarity and support. Men and women who don’t even speak the same language all unite and truly cheer each other on.

That’s just part of why this race is so special to me. For the first 4 years I worked with RAAM, I volunteered at various time stations. Most of the time stations are unstaffed—they’re random parking lots. But some have crews of volunteers who dedicate their time to greeting the riders and crews, cheering them on, and helping them if they need goods or services. My first RAAM experience was managing the Chillicothe, Ohio time station. I was horrible at it, honestly! I was good at cheering the riders and crew, but I needed more volunteers and more knowledge of the area. So, the next year, I decided to volunteer in Oxford, Ohio’s time station to get a better handle on things. And, while there, I put on my “media hat” as well and learned everything I could. So, four years ago, RAAM asked for volunteers for people to be regional officials. At this point, I thought I was ready to be more active, so I quickly jumped at the chance.

A regional official is similar to a national official in that we still are expected to know the rule book and to follow it, giving out warnings and penalties to those who may try to break the rules or, more often, to those who simply forget something like their safety lights or proximity to follow car during certain hours. The advantage to a regional official, however, is that we are more familiar with the cities the riders pass through in our regions so, particularly at unstaffed time stations, we can help riders find a bike shop for repairs, or a rest room, or a hotel…those types of basics.

We travel the route forwards (and backwards—a true challenge at times) and leap frog riders, monitoring their actions, cheering them on at 2am in the middle of nowhere, and advising them and HQ on road or weather conditions. After that first year, I personally learned not to bother with a hotel—make my car comfy and sleep in it, baby wipe bath in restrooms, shower at a truck stop, gym, or friend’s house, and rest when there happens to be a lull! It’s not a glamorous job, but it’s so fun! I get to meet almost every rider and/or crew chief. I get to meet volunteers at time stations, calling many people who work the Oxford and Blanchester stations some of my good friends now, and I get to meet other officials. Most importantly, I get to help some truly amazing people meet their dreams.

My region the past four years travels about 200 miles from Greensburg, Indiana to Chillicothe, Ohio. The two time stations in between—Oxford and Blanchester—are both staffed 24/7 during the race and are exceptional kind, supportive, and excited. Since there was another regional official in my area this year, I didn’t have to drive the course quite as much as in years passed. So, I spent a lot of time around Oxford, getting to spend more time with individual riders than normal. These interactions often lead to amusing stories. One rider was having difficulty with his breaks so needed to go to the town’s bike shop to get it looked at. I explained to him that he had to be sure to return to the time station when he was done and to leave from there and not the bike shop when he was ready to resume racing. The problem? He and most of his crew didn’t speak English. So, I had to use the high school French I use far too infrequently to try to express this rule to him. And it worked!! Another rider, the Danish “Fatboy on Wheels,” stopped to talk a bit. He was disappointed that the Rockies didn’t have snow, and when we explained he probably wouldn’t see any the on the Appalachians, he was equally disappointed. I asked what was his favorite part of the race. Kansas. Now, it’s nothing at all against Kansas, but the riders usually are exhausted from the desert and heat by that point, so rarely is Kansas said to be their favorite. His rationale? “I can put my head down and just go straight 45 miles…no looking up!” Smooth flat roads with a bit of a tailwind made Fatboy a fan! His crew chief also donate box of sweets to the time station to say thank you for the support. And this type of thing happens a lot. In the middle of a race—with pursuers right on their tracks, racers will turn stop for a minute…thirty seconds…whatever they can…just to say thanks to the volunteers. They are genuinely gracious and moved. One time, while I was standing in the rain in Greensburg cheering on a rider who was pretty far behind the rest of the race, I waved and rang my cowbell as he and his support vehicles road past. About 10 minutes later, his extra support vehicle drove back to me and pulled alongside my car—just to thank me. The support the riders receive in sometimes the most random of places often turns out to be an extra boost in morale.

This was particularly palpable in Oxford when, this year, they had their own 4-person team to cheer for. Two years ago, I first heard one of the “regular” Oxford volunteers say she wanted to ride the race someday. Last year, Lisa was speaking about doing it with more fervor and determination. In that time, she found three local guys, a lot of sponsors and town support, and uncountable hours of training—and met her dream. When Oxford Autoimmune pulled into town, the reception was magnificent. A huge roar of support poured forth from the over hundred people who showed up Friday afternoon. The team and crew pulled into the time station and were swarmed with friends, fans, family, and supporters. And when I talked to Lisa, I could tell she was so full of emotions and gratitude. They wound up finishing at 730am on Sunday—7 days, 16 hours, and 16 minutes after they started.

And those are just a few of the stories that came out of this year’s RAAM. That’s the amazing thing about this race—ever single participant has his or her own unique story. Some we learn about—some we never hear. But something drives these riders and crew to keep going. Imagine a lonely, quiet road. It’s 2am. You haven’t had a real meal in days. Your last shower was a week ago, not counting the rain and thunderstorm that blew over you the past two days. It’s pitch black on a small, winding country road. You haven’t seen anyone for hours aside from the guys in the support vehicle behind you, telling you to keep going. Easy for them to say—they’re driving. Your legs are burning. You can’t even feel your fingers for how hard you’ve gripped your handlebars. And, your Shermer’s neck brace is itching and hurting your back. Just one more down peddle. Just one more. Just one more….For 8 days….could you do it? Would you? These men and women do. For the love the bike. For the love of the challenge. For charity. For the memory of someone dear to them. And this is why I love RAAM.