Each year it has happened, that for almost one week my entire group is men. As there are not many strong women at camp and I lead one of the faster pace groups, this occurrence is not a total surprise.
However, the perfect storm is when they are all well-matched in speed, endurance, and climbing abilities, both to each other and to me. For the past few days, I have had the good fortune to be in the eye of this storm - and each day the group of men only gets bigger, I think because the ease, calm, and camaraderie of a group like this is something every cyclist searches for and rarely finds.
Last year I nicknamed them The Thoroughbreds because the sleek horsepower of the visible muscle and sinew was almost tangible. Vroom vroom! This year, My Guys. Half of them are at camp as friends on vacation; they gamely assist with my pathetic attempts at guiding the group and learning to count in German; and they often surround and look out for me, like a modern-day phalanx, although I joke that it is my job to be between them and traffic, not the other way around, never mind that every single one of them is taller than me, with at least 3 over 6 feet.
Meet My Guys in action:
|the best view? but hard to tell them apart...Fabian, Goeran, Markus|
|Here we have Paul, Roger, Chris, Frank, and Matthias, who waves hello|
|Now Goeran (second from right) wants some of his 15 minutes|
|Fabian is shy|
|Apparently so is Jorg|
|Benni, Chris, Frank #2, and Goeran|
And at the end, they feed me cake and steal my camera to take pictures...
Who wouldn't love My Guys?