A Ride In Memorium---Peter Teeuwen

I'm thinking about going to Chesapeake this Sunday at 1 p.m. to ride in memory of Peter Teeuwen, a ride organized apparently by the family and friends of this deceased former pro cyclist. This is the ride's 18th year. I've been aware of it but never taken the time, been to the trouble. But this year I may go. This is not a ride which demands any special fitness level or even a fancy bike (a reason I can do it I suppose).

I began racing five years ago starting with a few time trials. They were the Peter Teeuwen Time Trials, three each summer. I raced two that year. You race on a 23 mile course shaped like a lollipop with square corners against the clock and your own mind and endurance. I loved it.

Even in my first time trial I noticed a growling, grumbly, irascible old guy who appeared totally in charge. He wore a broad hat and long-legged khaki pants and directed cyclist traffic around the starting gate in the 95-degree heat. He seemed to own the place. He would grumble about something unknown and then make a crack about some obscure part on someone's bike as they rolled to the line, a part I heard him say he hadn't seen on a bike in 25 years. Sounded like he'd been around this stuff for a long, long time because he had.

I became struck by this stalwart figure in command and was dying to know more about him. I love real characters. And this surely was one. After building homes as a carpenter/contractor for over 30 years, I've learned it's one of the things I savor, like sustenance itself. The business trains you to honor these characters who get it done. Gerald Teeuwen, Peter's brother, is such a character. Solid.

One possible reward for my trip to the Grassfield Ruritan Clubhouse building on Shillelagh Road is to ride with Gerald. My gift to Gerald, long overdue the way I see it, is to ride at least one time in memory of his brother whom I was never fortunate enough to know. I'm sure there will be lots of local cyclists there, as there always are. Gerald and his family have supported road bike racing and riding in southeastern Virginia for years. They more than deserve our thanks for the events they support which benefit riders like those in our club and me.

I arrived at the Grassfield Ruritan Club for registration for one of the time trials there in recent years and a photo tacked to the doors caught my eye. I looked closer. Here was a black-and-white shot of three cyclists straddling old style road bikes wearing cycling caps, the tight-fitting kind with short brims. I looked even more closely. One rider's face looked familiar. It was Gerald. His daughter, Christina, told me later that day it was her dad in his racing days in Europe. This was during the early 1970's, a time when riding and racing in Europe was only important in America to those who rode and raced. I bought my first road bike in 1971.

Sunday I'll learn what it is to ride in someone's memory and honor. Should be very positive. I'll let you know.