Leaving it all on the road

You've heard the term frequently in athletics -- leaving it all out there. If you watched the Olympics you heard it -- I'm sure it will be a mainstay of March Madness.

Thursday I decided to ride up to Fort Meyers to see if I could spot the elusive Bald Eagle. While Florida might not have any hills (although there were a couple 5% climbs over the estuaries!) they do have wind. The only American riding guide over in Europe last summer was a triathlete from Florida. He was a great climber and I asked him how he trained in Florida. He likens the wind with climbing the mountains, he puts it in his big chain ring and just pounds it out into the head winds -- it certainly worked for him.

The ride North wrapped around a bit, but going directly North was one of those 23 mph with no effort rides. I knew I was in for a long trip home. I went out about 23 or 24 miles and decided it was time to turn around and face the music.

An easy 23 mph out, a wind stopping 13 or less mph back. It was absolutely brutal and I treasured any turn that at least gave me a cross wind.

I looked for the bald eagle I had spotted last year. I did stop to look at 2 sets of Osprey nests -- with the mating pair and a couple of youngsters. But alas, no eagle.

1 hour out, 2 hours back. I was crushed, tired. I'd left it all out there. I'd ridden hard against the wind to get back, training for mountains and hills to come. Kept my heart rate up for a long while. Left it all on the road.

Got the the hotel room, couldn't find any of my travel party but fortunately the door was open (as I haven't had a key all week). I'm unpacking my shirt pockets. Panic. Search again. More panic.

The sandwich bag with all of my cash, my credit card, my driver's license, and my phone is GONE. At one point I thought I had ridden over a can or something I hadn't seen. I even stopped but figured it was road trash. Checked out the osprey nest. Headed on my way. This was just past my turn around spot. About 1.5 hours of riding ago. Thinking the noise was the baggy.

How was I going to get on the plane without a driver's license? How can I find Cindy et al, tell them I'm heading out to look, when I don't have their numbers? Cancel the credit card, get cash -- all that I can do.

I look everywhere for them one more time, leave a note on the table and drive back out.

Argh the traffic, the slowest drivers, all of the lights. Wow - I really rode a long way. I'm no longer wearing my heart rate monitor, but thinking it's probably as high now as it was fighting the wind.

It takes me about 45 minutes to get to Bonita Beach Blvd and start tracing my way. I see all the riders coming my way, thinking surely someone saw it and picked it up. Wonder where the closest police station is to report it, just in case it's turned in. I brought the address and number from the hotel.

I go over the first bridge, then the 2nd. I scope out where I heard the noise -- there is trash on the ground. I pull the car over, wait for traffic, dash across the street.

I may be the luckiest person alive. Certainly I was at that moment. I can't believe noone picked it up. But as luck would have it the way it fell out you couldn't see the cash so it truly did look like a bit of trash along the road. And with the wind folks were probably fighting so hard against it they weren't really looking for it. Or perhaps the osprey nest right there at the top of the hill distracted them, like it did me.

I'm guessing when I stood to climb the rise the jacket I had to stuff in my back pocket (yes it was so warm even in the morning I got to ride in short sleeves) rose up, dragging the baggie with it.

Talk about leaving it all on the road, literally.