Submitted by Randy George on June 24, 2010 - 10:08pm.
In the last 24 hours I haven't gone more than a few minutes without thinking of Dave-- I even dreamt about Dave, Lexi, and Linnea. Now for the last 4 hours Liza and I have been full of tears, sharing memories, a general sense of disbelief, as well as a range of other painful emotions going out to all three... Someone used the term "super-human" in a previous post... and it's no coincidence that "super-human" is exactly the term I have used many times to describe Dave to people who do not know him. It is that quality that makes it so hard to comprehend that he is no longer with us... super-human implies a kind of immortality. I had the opportunity to ride with Dave on a 24 hour team event earlier this spring. Although the rules of the game (a fleche, for those of you familiar with randonneur events) dictate that the team stay together, it was clear from the start that Dave had the ability to ride away from us all if he was free of these constraints. He possessed a rare natural strength which, combined with his height and ability to consume unbelievable quantities of food, really did give the impression that this guy was of another breed. But what is most remarkable was that he never showed any kind of competitive edge... he was out there to enjoy himself and it didn't seem to bother him in the least that he could have finished hours ahead of us if only he was allowed to. (His performance in this year's Tour Divide was proof of his super-human strength.) Furthermore, our team was saved by the fact that Dave was so organized and prepared that when our cue sheets failed us, his GPS saved us time and again. On June 9th., when he came by the bakery to meet David Tremblay on their way to the airport to fly to the start of Tour Divide, Dave showed me his pages of laminated cue sheets and maps which marked every water source and brew pub on the Tour Divide route. The guy was the epitome of good preparation. Again, how could things go wrong for a guy with such immense mental and physical abilities? I have been checking in a few times daily with his progress and up until yesterday it had been nothing short of incredible-- not only in his place in field but in his almost daily upbeat call-ins. This was one of those rare people who was a true contender at a high level but was really doing it all because he absolutely loved it. I only knew Dave a little bit outside of the world of cycling, but he was a regular customer at our bakery... usually arriving by bike with Linnea in tow (literally) where he would sit by the window and teach her about bread baking and read stories to her. He was also a regular fixture at our local farmers' market, where I don't think I ever saw him in street clothes. He would stop just long enough to eat one pastry and pack another for the road while telling us where he was headed. The guy just loved life. This makes the fact that life has been taken from him all the more tragic and incomprehensible. He has been an inspiration to so many... Tonight I'm raising a glass to Dave, and extending all my love and condolences to his wonderful wife Lexi and sweet, sweet daughter Linnea (I have a four year old daughter too, so this part hits especially hard). A great adventurer, husband and father has been lost. --Randy George
Here's a photo that Liza took at the finish of the aforementioned fleche (he's the super-human one at the left if you can't tell): http://picasaweb.google.com/RidingRandy/Fleche2010#
Remembering Dave
In the last 24 hours I haven't gone more than a few minutes without thinking of Dave-- I even dreamt about Dave, Lexi, and Linnea. Now for the last 4 hours Liza and I have been full of tears, sharing memories, a general sense of disbelief, as well as a range of other painful emotions going out to all three... Someone used the term "super-human" in a previous post... and it's no coincidence that "super-human" is exactly the term I have used many times to describe Dave to people who do not know him. It is that quality that makes it so hard to comprehend that he is no longer with us... super-human implies a kind of immortality. I had the opportunity to ride with Dave on a 24 hour team event earlier this spring. Although the rules of the game (a fleche, for those of you familiar with randonneur events) dictate that the team stay together, it was clear from the start that Dave had the ability to ride away from us all if he was free of these constraints. He possessed a rare natural strength which, combined with his height and ability to consume unbelievable quantities of food, really did give the impression that this guy was of another breed. But what is most remarkable was that he never showed any kind of competitive edge... he was out there to enjoy himself and it didn't seem to bother him in the least that he could have finished hours ahead of us if only he was allowed to. (His performance in this year's Tour Divide was proof of his super-human strength.) Furthermore, our team was saved by the fact that Dave was so organized and prepared that when our cue sheets failed us, his GPS saved us time and again. On June 9th., when he came by the bakery to meet David Tremblay on their way to the airport to fly to the start of Tour Divide, Dave showed me his pages of laminated cue sheets and maps which marked every water source and brew pub on the Tour Divide route. The guy was the epitome of good preparation. Again, how could things go wrong for a guy with such immense mental and physical abilities? I have been checking in a few times daily with his progress and up until yesterday it had been nothing short of incredible-- not only in his place in field but in his almost daily upbeat call-ins. This was one of those rare people who was a true contender at a high level but was really doing it all because he absolutely loved it. I only knew Dave a little bit outside of the world of cycling, but he was a regular customer at our bakery... usually arriving by bike with Linnea in tow (literally) where he would sit by the window and teach her about bread baking and read stories to her. He was also a regular fixture at our local farmers' market, where I don't think I ever saw him in street clothes. He would stop just long enough to eat one pastry and pack another for the road while telling us where he was headed. The guy just loved life. This makes the fact that life has been taken from him all the more tragic and incomprehensible. He has been an inspiration to so many... Tonight I'm raising a glass to Dave, and extending all my love and condolences to his wonderful wife Lexi and sweet, sweet daughter Linnea (I have a four year old daughter too, so this part hits especially hard). A great adventurer, husband and father has been lost. --Randy George
Here's a photo that Liza took at the finish of the aforementioned fleche (he's the super-human one at the left if you can't tell):
http://picasaweb.google.com/RidingRandy/Fleche2010#