Chet Warman Memorial Ride - Saturday October 20, 2008

Saturday October 20, 2008

Chet Warman dies Monday October 13, 2008 in a bicycle riding accident in Southeast Utah. Joe calls me with the news and I hang up with disbelief. I flew back to Boston. Bo flew back to New York. Joe flew back to Vermont. Chet was to drive the support truck back to Vermont as planned making several stops along the way to visit friends and take advantage of what is touted as the “best mountain biking on the planet” - Moab.

A final entry as I ride through the land of Chet today.

The ride today was organized in memory of Chet. One of Chet's favorite rides was Pittsfield to Silver Lake and back. Chet's sister Nancy is in Pittsfield and Joe is very generous with words, housing and food for all. I drive to Pittsfield. I have my mountain bike, my laptop, some pictures and a CD. I arrive at the Amee Farm in Pittsfield and the parking lot it is full of cyclists. I sit in my car for a couple of minutes and take in the scenery of mountains, trees and barns. I begin to open the door several times but stop myself not wanting to face Chet's death. Till this moment, I have kept the news wrapped in tissue paper away from my heart.

I open the car door and begin to prepare for the 35 mile ride. I start a conversation with the man next to me about air pressure, the age of our bikes and the good weather. Joe and Nancy pull up in the lower parking lot. I walk over to the edge of the ledge separating the two parking lots and wait. I am waiting to say hello to Joe but it is Nancy who looks over and says “Chris, I recognize you from the photos”. I climb down. We hug each other deeply and the sadness spills onto the gravel. It has been nearly a week since I heard the news. I hold Nancy until the two weeks spent traveling across the country with Chet returns and unwraps the tissue paper.

We all gather into the Amee Farm and Joe tells stories about Chet as we pass around pictures. There are about 60 people. I am in disbelief. I was expecting some people but this turnout is amazing. I didn't know Chet very long but I was under the impression that he lived more of a solitary, hermit life. This was not the case and I am looking at a crowd of cyclists ranging in age from 30 to 70. I glance over to Joe and say “for a hermit he had more friends than me”. Joe nods in agreement. Nancy finishes up by thanking everyone for coming and more importantly for being part of Chet's life.

We start to ride. I am in the back of the pack and pedal hard to stay up with the group. It is not long before the pack disappears ahead of me and I am pedaling alone. It is a fantastic cool and crisp fall day in Vermont. I like meeting people but riding alone for parts of today allowed me to reflect and feel connected to Chet and my surroundings. I imagine Chet pedaling on this road and enjoying the mountains and streams. I read the street names “Fort Defiance Hill” and “Mount Hunger Road” and understand why he loved to race up hills.

I pedal along and Chet's words come back to me. “Change gears”. “Always try to pedal with the least amount of effort”. “Change your position in the saddle to find better aerodynamics”. “Change the position of your feet to work different parts of your legs”. “Keep your mind active while riding”.

I catch a couple riders who are slower on the hills. I talk with Doug who is riding a Motobecane road bike. You don't see Motobecane bikes much anymore. Chet had a Motobecane and I ask Doug how he knew Chet. Doug tells me that Chet got him into biking several years ago. When he started riding he bought a bike from Chet and then graduated to this after becoming an enthusiast. I have a distinct feeling there are others in this crowd that Chet brought to the sport.

I meet Diane who is a member of the same bike club as Chet, the Killington Pico Cycling club. I tell her I never heard of the club before the ride but now it is etched into my mind for eternity. I tell her that the etching is so deep that every time I blink I see the back of a Killington Pico Cycling club Jersey. I spent many days riding behind Chet and that Jersey. If someone asks me what the country looks like from a bicycle I tell them that I don't remember much other than the back of this Jersey and Joe's shaved head. One night late in the first week of our riding I asked Chet if he would consider wearing a different Jersey the following day so I could convince myself that I was actually making some progress. He laughed, and then I said it was easier than asking Joe to wear a brunette wig.

Chet wasn't your ordinary person. He was special. If you spent any length of time with him you would not quickly forget him. He had what would be considered unpopular views on some topics and wasn't afraid to let you know if he disagreed with your thoughts. He didn't however insist that you adopt his view but did require that you at least heard what he had to say. He was passionate about what he believed and authentic in ways you don't often find today. Chet's views and opinions were not out of a book or dogmatic. He lived 64 years and similar to these Vermont mountains he pedaled was more pine tree than deciduous.

Most of all my feelings center around Chet's love for people. He wanted equality among people on every level in a way that if any of today's political candidates professed, I would vote for them in a minute. He reminded me on several occasions that he was still a hippie at heart. I believe he was a very sensitive man with deep feelings. Sensitivity of course is vulnerable to being hurt and Chet definitely built some good old fashion New England stone walls to protect himself from the pain people are capable of inflicting on each other. However, if you looked into his eyes when he was smiling, you could still see the wonder, innocence and glimmer of a five year old child.

On the ride back from Silver Lake I start chatting with another rider. His name is Bill. Bill never met Chet and doesn't know anyone else here today. Bill read about Chet in the paper and came out just to be supportive. Can you believe it? I ask him a second time to make sure I have the facts straight. Bill lives in Rutland and moved to Vermont from Massachusetts years ago. He is a dentist and thinks this area is as good as any in the United State. Today, I have to agree with him. Bill and I talk for a couple more miles and then he cycles ahead of me. I think to myself, even in death Chet is still bringing us together with biking – now that is giving.

There is always some time for payback. For all the nights I kept Chet awake blogging by clicking away on the keyboard, tonight he has kept me awake writing this till after 2AM – I miss him.