"Good luck Hoooch." Thanks Dave.

Someone called me Hoooch yesterday, and it brought me back a few decades...did I say that? I grew up in a Manchester, Ct in a town of about 50K and it was called the silk city. Twenty years ago the economy was pretty happening due to insurance and the threat of war as there were submarine plants, jet engine companies, etc that kept the local population working. Now its like a lot of little industrial based towns where Indian casinos, big shopping malls, chain restaurants have taken over. Its just one of a thousand towns where industry has shriveled up and passed suburban small Ville USA.

When I was about 13 ..I can still remember that first Saturday am group ride with the local legends. I was feeling nervous as I embarked on a 30 miler that met at Manchester Cycle shop around the corner. It was a chilly morning there was a group of about 10 guys that would normally stop in the shop hang out and talk about the races, rides, new tires, etc. on their way home from work. There was even a guy that raced in Europe (Brian Danhey)-- he was the guy everyone talked about when they were chatting about bike racing. I was in awe.

I showed up on my Motobecane Mirage (that I bought for myself) first thing that Sat am wearing my Rivat cycling shoes with nails in the leather sole as they were cheaper then the much cooler Duegi wood sole shoes, baggy wool tights, brancale helmet and a powder blue wool jersey. Oh yea, I don't want to forget the black campy cycling cap, you know the one in breaking away. I was on top of the world.

I remember one guy specifically who later helped me a lot with racing and cycling. His name was Dave Hulme, he was from England and I really liked his accent he wore one of those cool hair nets (leather cycling helmet) and rode an Olmo too.

We started out good enough just riding along thru some towns that I was familiar with on roads that my father and I would drive when looking for a Christmas trees in Glastonbury. As we started getting further and further to towns and roads that I had never seen before and I was feeling a little nervous... the guys were really helpful and were giving me encouraging bits of advice along the way. Then I remember when we went around a corner in front of me was a mountain and my legs started to feel weak. As the guys in front of me continued to climb, I just couldn't keep up and I was so far from home. I slogged up Lookout mtn and Dave came and helped me as my legs just wouldn't pedal. At this point I was scared and in over my head. I weaved and tried to force the pedals over as Dave pushed me all the way up and over Lookout mountain. The rest of the ride the group helped me get back home and nursed me along, every time we got to a slight rise, I'd fall off the back and Dave would say " come on Hootch" in his English accent. I did make it home exhausted, thanks to Dave.

Ten years later... I was living in the same town small Ville USA where I was 1 of about 50k people that raced bikes, shaved my legs, etc. I had a brand new Pinnerello Montello with SLX tubing, internal cables, and the fanciest cycling shoes money could buy. I was just getting in a good block of training in for the 1988 Olympic trials- I qualified for the TT and the road race in the MA/RI district. The road race was my goal it was a 117 mile race and I think Frank Mckormick (sp)? won, to qualify in the TT was a surprise as it was the first time I ever did a 40 k. I did it in 55:45 with no real areo gear, I just wanted to break an hour..

So anyway I was on my way to my parents house near the beach one afternoon. It was about 65 miles one way and I started out going pretty hard as I wanted to get there in 3hrs. I was going to head over Lookout Mountain and do some big ring work for power then cruise to the beach. I'm feeling pretty good, it was a sunny day and all I had was a tubular tire and a couple of water bottles. I started the climb in the big ring and I was flying, just ahead I could see the rare sight of another cyclist that was weaving and struggling up the climb as I flipped over the big ring. As I got a bit closer I could see a hairnet, then I noticed it was Dave Hulme!!! When I pulled up to him, I said "Hey Dave, need a push? I owe you one!" He heard that I was going to Spokane, WA for the cycling trials and he said "sure".

I gave my old friend a push to the top of the mtn. When we got to the top, he said "Good luck Hootch" and we rode our separate ways. I've never seen him since, but I'm thankful for all of his help and was happy to have re-payed the favor.

I'm not sure if he knew how much he helped me that day years before, we didn't even mention it as I pushed him.

Thanks Dave