This page is dedicated to any cyclist who have had a close encounter with Mr. Shizzles. There are two types of cyclists. Those who have met Mr. Shizzles, and those that are destined to meet him...
William - Dahlonega
I met Mr. Shizzles at the 12 Hours of Dauset. I was in the six hour solo race and
met him on my next-to-last lap. The day was hot as blazes and then turned to rain
and then back to heat (steam). I was suffering like I never have before. I ran out
of water by not taking a pit stop (trying to get an extra lap before my time ran
out) and the trail had turned to slop, and my lack of technique caused me to crash
about ten times on this lap. That's when Mr. Shizzles opened the door to my mind
and took a seat. He was clanging and screeching and telling me I was pretty much
going to drop dead from not having water. I finally got off the bike and just laid
down next to the trail and stared up into the canopy. The drops of rain were coming
down gently on me and I began to sing the old hymn, "Just a little talk with
Jesus". I slowly came back to reality and got back on my bike. Then I grabbed
the wheel of another rider and came on back to the start/finish area. Mr. Shizzles
is not a nice monkey.
Frahnk - Dahlonega
Shizzles gets me when I'm running. Every spring, my little girly-run turns into a
Shizzles moment. It's uphill both ways in this town. The heat, the humidity, the
sun, and the hills all add up to me feeling faint and losing my peripheral vision.
I stop, sit down, put my head between my legs, and there's Mr. Shizzles. When
Shizzles appears to me, he wears no clothes and he has no cymbals. He hangs from
tree branches, naked and hairy, a big grin laughing at me, with two monsterous monkey
huevos dangling there, swinging. It's a terrible sight. A scientist would say that
the combination of vasodilation in skeletal muscle, combined with vasodilation
beneath the skin, causes total peripheral resistance to drop so much blood pressure
drops too, in spite of increased cardiac output. Bollocks. It's Mr. Shizzles.
Dean - Colorado
I have developed a theory about the cause of one symptom of Mr Shizzles' NetherLand
visitations. Saturday I rode pretty hard on the Copper Triangle century route from
Copper Mt over Vail Pass, thru Vail to Minturn and over Battle Mountain and Tennessee
Pass to Leadville; out to and around Turquoise Lake, back to Leadville and to Copper
Mt via Freemont Pass. 102 miles, hot . . . plenty of climbing. It was a great ride.
I got to eating a headwind out to Freemont Pass. I'd been on my own for 55 of 85 miles
and as the pace crumbled under the weight of the wind and Freemont Pass I did some quick
calculating . . . 4000 calories burned, maybe 750 taken in with about 10 oz water / hour.
I smelled Mr Shizzles, and rode to him. I've been worse off and it was not a severe
thrashing. But I did get those wobbling cross-eyed blues. I usually refer to it as
going a bit cross-eyed but that's not quite accurate. It goes along with the weak
flushes and chilled paranoia; the vision goes sploozy and one seems to randomly lose
directional control of ones eyeballs. I think it's a symptom of dehydration in which
the eyeball, normally precisely fit and sized to glide fluidly within the orbital
socket actually shrinks. They shrink by the depletion of eyeball fluid, and the
eyeball is left suspended within the now oversized socket by the sinews that normally
aim the eyeballs in concert and per command. In this altered state they will wobble
like bobble-heads and produce random, unsynchronized, unfocused image streams unless
one concentrates very intently on minimizing the effect. But such concentration draws
limited energy resources from other critical command and control functions, like not
riding off the road into a mountain chasm.
Anyway, that's my eyeball theory.
John C. - Unknown Location
August is hotter than crap in Georgia.
I spent an August Sunday afternoon on Bull Mountain that I will not soon forget.
Already a little underhydrated when I started the day, I somehow never took the time to get fluids in my body. Prior to the ride I was too busy getting ready to go and never really drank anything.
I did take water with me, but it wasn't enough for what was in store.
About 25 miles into the ride, I ran out of water in my camelbak and started imagining the sound of rushing water and deliriously wanting to shed helmet, gloves and clothing.
It took 2 days to recover from what I can only describe as the worst hangover I have ever endured.
I'll be back for more soon!
In the table below is our Summer riding schedule :
Dahlonega Wheelworks
24 Alicia Lane
Suite 2
Dahlonega, GA 30533
(706) 867-0228
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Wed
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