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Waiting for the Sun(shine Act)

Laurie Kelley September 15, 2013

Yeah, that’s sort of the name of a Doors song. Like I tell my friends, it’s always about the Doors. Just read the book review below.

But this blog, actually, is not about Jim Morrison, but about your hematologist (unless he is named Jim Morrison). He or she will have a new gig in 2014.

Doctors, like your hematologist, will soon have to
disclose gifts and payments they receive from pharmaceutical companies. Under the Sunshine Act, a provision of the Affordable Care Act, pharmaceutical and medical-device companies will have to report almost every financial transaction they have with doctors, whether paid research consultation, paid speeches, or even having dinner with them.

That information will then be published on a searchable, public website as of September 2014. Why?

Many of our hematologists receive income from consulting and speaking fees from factor manufacturers. Now, this is normal. The hematologists and treatment centers carry out valuable research, on inhibitor formation, new products and joint disease. This is often funded by factor manufacturers. And the Sunshine Act is not trying to stop that. In one brochure, it says:

“There are many interactions between physicians and manufacturers of drugs, medical devices, and medical supplies that benefit patients and advance the art and science of medicine. The Sunshine Act transparency reports provide patients and the public with information on the financial interactions of physicians and industry. These interactions often drive innovation, discovery and changes in medical practice that may promote better patient outcomes. The congressional sponsors of the Affordable Care Act (ACA) reporting provisions have stated that this process is not designed to stop, chill, or call into question beneficial interactions between physicians and industry, but to ensure that they are transparent.”

I think we can read between some lines. If you receive a large sum of money from a particular manufacturer, and you have the ability to write prescriptions, might you be a little bit biased in wanting to prescribe that manufacturer’s products?

I don’t think that question has ever been studied or answered, at least in hemophilia. Maybe the answer is no! Never! Great. But… until we have such data, there is always the possibility that there could be prescribing bias. And in hemophilia especially, we have always guarded the patient’s right and ability to have choice of product. I mean, I have devoted the last 23 years to that subject.

So the Sunshine Act is here to ensure Pharma doesn’t get carried away in generously funding research and educational symposia to the point where it is inadvertently influencing physicians, and that physicians keep track of how much they are earning and receiving from whom. Makes sense.

And physicians will have the right to review their reports and challenge reports that are false, inaccurate or misleading. It’s all for our good, the patient, the consumer, the money-generator. Another good thing to come out of the ACA.

Great Book I Just Read

The Doors Examined

by Jim Cherry

Cherry was a writer for The Examiner and in this superbly crafted book, reports the well known stories and scores of not so well known tidbits and facts about the Doors, the iconic rock band from the 60s. You will learn not only new things about the Doors, but connections to other songs, singers, rock bands and record companies that are fascinating. The book deftly networks the albums, songs and band members with their times, which were explosive. He delves deeply into Jim Morrison’s psyche and writes about how his poetry fueled the Doors’ lyrics and his antics on stage. And not just the Doors in the 60s, Cherry traces the Doors’ cultural influence all through later years, into film, art, TV, poetry and music. A Doors concert in which a fan was hit with a chair became Pete Townsend’s (The Who) inspiration for a scene in Tommy, “Sally Simpson.” Iggy Pop and Patti Smith each watched Morrison on stage and decided then and there to become stars. Cherry even covers the grave at Pere Lachaise Cemetary and Morrison ghost sightings, and Doors tours in Venice, California (sign me up). The writing is concise and firm, but the chapters do jump around chronologically and sometimes get redundant. Still, a totally fascinating and well written book about a ground breaking band, which in 6 years left a permanent influence on music and our culture. Speaking of being biased (above), I am just a little when it comes to the Doors! Four/five stars.

Insurance Buyer Beware!

Laurie Kelley September 10, 2013

While catching up on some insurance reading, I came across this article, which gives some food for thought. I’ve been giving insurance symposia around the country, and we have been focusing this year on the “Marketplace” websites, but this never even crossed my mind!

“Buyer Beware: Obamacare creates an opening for confusion and scams”

Kate Pickert

Government Bureaucrats aren’t the only ones preparing for a key component of President Obama’s signature health care law that goes into effect this fall.

Health care exchanges, the marketplaces where people can buy soon-to-be required insurance, launch Oct. 1, and experts warn that their debut
could create a prime moneymaking opportunity for illegal scammers and others looking to capitalize on consumer confusion. “There are people licking their chops and saying, ‘A sucker is born every minuet,’” says Elizabeth Abbott of the consumer group Health Access California.

There are two main types of potential snares for consumers: outright cons and insurance-like plans that give the impression of offering
more coverage than they actually provide. Regulatory agencies are already on high alert for fraud. Both the Federal Trade Commission and the Better Business Bureau have posted warnings about Obamacare-related identity theft. And in Pennsylvania, one enterprising insurance broker set up a website with the official state seal and the title Pennsylvania Health Exchange. The site was removed after a warning for the state insurance department.

Some quasi-insurance products expected to proliferate come October are ‘discount medical plans,” which promise lower health care costs in exchange for a recurring fee. Many of these plans lure customers with language that implies comprehensive coverage, but the reality is far more limited.

“The problem is, people pay the money, buy a plan, and when they get sick, they find out they don’t’ have the financial security they thought they had,” says Minnesota attorney general Lori Swanson, who has sued several discount medial plans for deceptive market practices. Consumer watchdogs are also wary of plans that reimburse consumers with set amounts for doctor visits or hospital stays, regardless of the actual costs.

Obamacare bans some forms of skimpy coverage, but with enforcement left to the states—some of which are less than enthusiastic about
the law—don’t count on those misleading plans disappearing overnight. “Will the states crack down on them?” asks Timothy Jost, a law professor at Washington and Lee University and an expert on insurance regulation. “Well, a number of states
aren’t enforcing the Affordable Care Act at all.”

Time August 19, 2013Great Book I Just Read

Into the Abyss: An Extraordinary True Story [Kindle]
Carol Shaben

A small commuter plane goes down on a subzero night in 1984 in Canada; only four of nine people survive: the 24 year old pilot, the first Muslim politician in North America, a policeman and his handcuffed prisoner. The next 36 hours reveals each man’s character, impacts them for life, and bonds them to one another for life. The prisoner saves the lives of the other three and becomes a national hero. This amazing story, expertly told, delves deep into the minds and hearts of each man before and during the accident, and follows them 20 years later to see what has become of them. The incident helped to change Canadian aviation. The author is the daughter of the politician, one of the survivors. Five/five stars.

“Camai” from Alaska!

Laurie Kelley September 1, 2013

I’ve had some great travel this summer: from the picturesque beaches of Cape Cod, Massachusetts and the bustling island of Martha’s Vineyard, to the canyons and deserts of Arizona. But Kodiak Island, Alaska could be one of our country’s best-kept secrets.

South of Anchorage, tucked away in the Gulf of Alaska, Kodiak Island was born in a geological eruption, a volcano, and is a jagged piece of real estate lacking
roads and harboring crazy weather patterns. At 100 miles long, it’s the second
largest island in the US. Only about 6,000 people live here, half of who belong
to the Coast Guard. Indeed, Kodiak Island is home to our largest Coast Guard
facility, thanks to its proximity to Russia and here to protect Kodiak’s
massive fishing. Verdant mountains landmark Kodiak, the biggest town, and
across the bay, ripples of blue mountains as far as you can see. It is a
stunningly beautiful place.

It’s also a challenging place to raise a son with hemophilia. I came here to visit my
dear friend Kerry (Fatula) Halter, who lives in Kodiak with husband Ron and son
Stephen. Kerry and I met years ago at a hemophilia event, and you know
chemistry… we just clicked and have been good friends ever since. She moved
from Pennsylvania, where she was executive director of the Western Pennsylvania
Chapter of NHF, back home to Kodiak, her birthplace, two years ago. She and I
had been plotting ever since about having me come and visit. My schedule
finally permitted, and I took the 15+ hour flight from Boston to Alaska, my
first trip there.

Alaska is
different, no doubt about that. You sense at once upon landing in Anchorage that this land, these people, embody the American can-do and pioneering attitudes. This is their land, their lifestyle, and ain’t nobody going to tell them what to do! It’s the perfect life for an outdoors person: hunting and fishing are key occupations and diversions. Everyone in the airport seemed to be wearing camouflage. I must have missed that memo. And there was an abundance of men; Kerry later told me in Alaska the ratio is one woman to four men. Lest you think these will improve your odds of getting a date, know that these are real mountain men, bearded outdoor types who work hard and play hard, and seem happy outside in the cold and rain as much as inside having a beer at a local brewery. And people are friendly and forthright. It’s a fascinating culture switch. Kodiak appeals to me on many
levels!

Kerry and I started our four day visit with a rainy, shrouded day on Thursday, in which I couldn’t see anything. No mountains, no bay, no fishing boats… nothing. She stressed how beautiful Kodiak is, but I was just happy to be here. Stephen looks great! I had last seen him two years ago, and he has matured into an articulate 10 year old who has adjusted well to his move. We celebrated by going to the Coast Guard station, where Ron works in aviation, to the theater to see “Pacific Rim.” So it’s my third time to see this movie, but worth it as it’s a fun and explosive summer CGI movie by the renowned Guillermo del Toro. All three of us whooped when the opening scene subtitle read “Alaska,” where the “Kaijus” begin attacking, and much of this long opening is set in Alaska. But I wondered why I never paid attention to the word Alaska before. I saw the movie twice and never paid any attention that it was set in Alaska. I realized sheepishly that like most Americans, we pretty much ignore our 49th state, even when it’s being ravaged by giant alien creatures. Granted, our largest state (and I mean large, totally dwarfing hefty Texas) only harbors 1 million people, half of whom live in Anchorage. You never hear much from Alaska, and probably, Sarah Palin did much to remind everyone that we have a 49th state.

Despite its stunning beauty, Kodiak is not always an easy place to live: prices are astronomical ($5 a gallon for gas?) as everything needs to be flown or shipped in. Fresh fruit? Kinda rare. Kerry warns me that before purchasing any fruit, it must be squeezed for freshness, and to check expiration labels of everything. There are few roads outside of the main city, and you need to fly a charter plane here and there. Planning ahead is key.

This is especially true with hemophilia. Stephen is the only child with hemophilia on the island. His HTC is in Anchorage. Clinic visits take planning. The Coast Guard will fly them for free in a noisy, unglamorous C-130 (that’s a big plane!), but only one parent can fly and it flies on certain days of the week. Otherwise they have to take a commercial flight. Now flying from Boston to Anchorage is not as expensive as you think, about $490. I could pay that much trying to get to Newark sometimes. But the one hour flight from Anchorage to Kodiak?$500, thank you very much.

So visits to the HTC are expensive. Thankfully, in any medical emergency, the Coast Guard
will fly him no matter what.

And emergencies are to be expected as Stephen also has an inhibitor. I watched him
last night loading up his factor, and preparing to have it pushed into his PICC
line. What was it like having hemophilia on the island? “It’s ok,” he replied
matter-of-factly. “I can mix my own factor but need to have it pushed in.” [I was
not about to do that; Kerry and Ron were out getting us a movie for the night] He chatted about sleeping over his friend’s house, going to the rodeo that day; in short, he leads as normal a life as anyone. Quite remarkable. No fears about having hemophilia with expert medical help so far away.

He put it further in perspective for me. “If I were still living in Pennsylvania, I’d still have to drive an hour to the HTC, so it’s the same thing pretty much.” Wise child!

And he has connections; the Alaska Hemophilia Association in Anchorage is well established, and is operated by Kerry’s aunt, Louise Cobb! But Stephen has to contend with things most school kids do not. Kodiak is home to the famous Kodiak bear, a massive brute. There are thousands of them on this island. One was spotted once in their neighborhood, and so Kerry had to accompany Stephen everywhere, particularly to the bus stop, armed with Bear Spray (pepper spray), which works effectively to deter a bear attack. Still, it was frightening.

Stephen also takes advantage of the outdoor life that Kodiak offers. He fishes;
salmon is rampant here and we witnessed thousands of salmon clogging the rivers, spawning. He flies; he gets to drive the family’s 4-wheel vehicles up and down the beaches and through the woods. The
4-wheelers are risky for a child, but Stephen will grow up knowing how to manage one. I imagine he will grow up learning how to hunt as well. Kerry and Ron were talking about hunting, and how delicious fresh venison is.

On Friday
the clouds cleared as fast as they arrived and the day was mild and sunny. We
drove an hour away to Cliff Point beach, where we drove the 4-wheelers, beach
combed and picked at washed up jellyfish and thousands of shells. We then explored
Fossil Beach, a stunning beachhead guarded by two massive cliffs of volcanic
rock. Here are large rocks that were flung from the center of the earth in one or
two cataclysmic eruptions long ago, with shells and even tree trunks deeply
embedded in the stone. When you touch them, you touch the earth’s geological
history. Despite the setting sun and cooling air, the boulders were warm to the
touch, like living, breathing organisms.

Kodiak has so much to offer. I wish all Americans could see this extraordinary treasure. Yes,
life is a bit more challenging due to hemophilia, and inhibitors, but Stephen
is managing just fine, thanks to his proactive mom, the readiness of the Coast
Guard to assist (thanks to Ron!) at any time, and Stephen’s own can-do spirit

Prehistoric shells, embedded in volcanic rock

which compliments well the culture and attitude of Alaska, and his new life in
Kodiak.

Laurie in rock heaven!

Great Book I Just Read

Pilgrim’s Wilderness: A True Story of Faith and Madness on the Alaska Frontier [Kindle]

by Tom Kizzia

A true but horrifying story of “Papa Pilgrim” who dragged his wife and 14 kids to a 420-acre mining claim embedded in Alaska’s Wrangell–St. Elias National Park. McCarthy’s townspeople were intrigued by the ultrarighteous preacher and his charming pack of fiddle playing kids, but when Papa bulldozes a 13-mile road through the park, and claims public land as his own, the federal government takes an interest. Eventually there is a showdown, even as his children, now teens and adults, try to break away from their father’s abusive and hypnotic hold over them. Papa is none other than Robert Hale, born and raised in upper-class Fort Worth, Texas, who is suspected of murdering the daughter of future governor John Connally when he was 20. This exciting piece of reporting is a caveat for those who cave in to anyone spouting religion, politics or any doctrine: Think for yourself. If it doesn’t look right, it isn’t! So many suspected something was wrong with the family but chose to look the other way, because Papa was a “Christian.” And children suffered horribly. Four/five stars.

Local Hemophilia Families Meet the Manufacturers

Laurie Kelley August 25, 2013

Local Boston hemophilia families tour a manufacturing plant

I was thrilled last week to invite a group of local hemophilia families to the Pfizer Andover manufacturing plant, where BeneFIX,a recombinant, third-generation blood-clotting medicine, is made. Andover is only 40 minutes from my house; imagine that this amazing medicine is practically made in my neighborhood! It was a wonderful opportunity for the scientists and researchers there to meet real families, and for the families to see just how blood-clotting products are made.

We were greeted by Bob Duane, Senior Director, Site Quality and Compliance. Families were briefed about their tour, which would be a closed off tour–we didn’t need to get into special outfits to protect the manufacturing process from us and any germs we may have been carrying. But we would get to see how factor is made!

First, we met with a large group of employees, and heard a presentation by Tom Porter, PhD, Senior Director, Analytical Research & Development, Global Biologics, who gave an overview about how factor was produced. He was so enthused about his work; it was refreshing and delightful! He reviewed the history of hemophilia innovation of products from Pfizer, including creating the first recombinant factor VIII product in 1992, which was then licensed to Baxter. I had actually forgotten that little piece of history.

Then each family was invited to stand up and speak a little about their experience with hemophilia. Bob wondered if the families would be comfortable with that and we all laughed—hemophilia families usually have no problem speaking up!

Wendy spoke about having an 18-year-old; Allie spoke about having two with hemophilia (“I win!” she quipped!); I spoke about having a transitioning 25-year-old and our insurance concerns for all in his age group; Carolyn shared about having an 18-month-old; and Diane informed the group that her baby was just diagnosed with an inhibitor. Most special was the speech by Shane, a 12-year-old with hemophilia A, who related that he is learning how to

infuse better to save wear and tear on his veins.

After a lovely lunch, during which the families were able to sit casually with the researchers and scientists, the group split into two and began their tours. We saw the vats containing the medium in which the Chinese hamster ovary cells produce human factor; learned how it is separated from the medium and then harvested. In the end, product is shipped to Spain to be finished, lyophilized and packaged, ready to be sold. The sheer level of intricacies involved in each step was a bit overwhelming. We walked by many laboratories where staff worked diligently. Everything is breathtakingly clean; most tasks are automated to reduce the risk of human error. We walked on many floors, levels and peered in through large glass windows to see the giant vats where product is made. The families were stunned, at the number of employees required to make product, at the level of safety controls and at the amount of money required to make product.

“It is really fun to see how factor is made and all the work that goes into it. I will definitely think of that when I infuse now,” Shane comented.

“The tour of the Pfizer facility opened my eyes to the extremely long process involved in making factor,” said mother Kathy Secinaro. “It became clear that the staff there are dedicated to research and product safety. In addition to that, they truly showed they care about our community and want to know more about living with hemophilia. I never expected such a genuinely warm welcome. Others should be strongly encouraged to do a similar tour. I hope to do it again.”

And what did the employees think about the families?

“Yesterday was the best day I have ever had at Pfizer. I received far more than I gave.” “I was touched and was amazed at the strength that was displayed by [the families].” “I was truly inspired by their stories and had such a good feeling all day. I’m looking forward to the next visit and other visits like this.” “Having patients and their families on site really drives home the importance of our job. It never fails to touch me when I hear them speak. We do great work here. Work that keeps people alive. We sometimes forget.”

Other manufacturers offer tours of their facilities, too. I’ve toured the Bayer plant in Berkeley, and know other families who have seen the Grifols plant in Los Angeles, and the CLS Behring plant in Kankakee, Illinois. Ask your local rep if you can see their plant, and learn how factor is made.

And read the August issue of PEN, coming to your mailbox soon; we review all factor products and manufacturers, and chart out the new products coming in the pipeline.

Thanks to Gail McCarthy, our local Pfizer rep, for this invitation, to the families who took a day off to join us, to the Pfizer staff who made this such a pleasant and educational day and who care enough to meet and learn about our very special community.

Good Book I Just Read
The Doors Unhinged: Jim Morrison’s Legacy Goes on Trial
by John Densmore

Laurie Kelley with Robby Krieger of the Doors

An unflinching account of the 2002 lawsuit by Densmore, former drummer for the 60s band the Doors, against his former bandmates, keyboardist Ray Manzarek (who just passed away in May) and former high school best friend guitarist Robby Krieger. His suit was primarily to stop the use of the name and logo of the Doors by Manzarek and Krieger, who were touring (without Desnmore) as the “Doors of the 21st Century.” He did not seek to stop them from playing or from calling themselves “Of the Doors.” He did not seek money from this lawsuit. Manzarek and Krieger countersued for $40 million, claiming that Densmore vetoed a $15 million commercial with Buick… and then Densmore’s real beef is revealed. Densmore goes to court to preserve the noncommercialsm of the original Doors, particularly frontman and cultural icon Jim Morrison, by not “selling out” to corporate America; and to honor the Doors agreement that all bandmates had equal weight in determining decisions with equal veto power. Indeed, Densmore was backed throughout the trial by the estate of Jim Morrison, and even Morrison’s father, a former rear admiral in the Navy, testified. Densmore further questions the need of Americans, and in particular his bandmates, who are all wealthy, to accumulate millions more at the risk of losing their creative purity. It’s an interesting question; Densmore makes many good points, even though at times he unnecessarily takes uncomfortable jabs at Manzarek in particular. Yet Densmore himself stands to earn a lot by being a former Doors member, and writing these books! It’s a head-scratcher at times, as you wonder from what angle Densmore is coming sometimes, as there are many; his arguments don’t always seem clear or follow logically. It’s a quick read, raises good questions and will generate a lot of discussion. From an insider, I have heard that the book is quite accurate.
For devoted Doors fans, this is a hard book to read, to learn what has become of their legacy. I’m a bit biased as I love the Doors, and appreciate each musician for their talent and dedication, and just met up with Robby Kreiger on Saturday night at the Hard Rock Cafe–he’s a nice guy, by everyone’s account. He wrote my favorite song ever, “Touch Me,” which I admit would have a different meaning and feel entirely if it were used as a commercial for say the iTouch. For anyone in rock and roll, it is a fascinating legal read. Two/five stars.

Gears for Girls; Gears for Good

Laurie Kelley August 19, 2013

So this is all Barry Haarde’s fault.

A year ago I was a contented jogger and sometimes mountain climber. Not often, but enough to say I can do it. I also cycled about once a week using an old hybrid bike, which means that it’s not as slick as a touring bike (those skinny bikes with skinny people riding them who have Lance-Armstrong-like ripped muscles and wear cool shirts) but not as bulky as a mountain bike (which have really thick tires and usually young, crazy males riding them through forests). I wasn’t too competitive.

Then Barry just had to go and cycle across America in 2012 (3,700 something miles) to raise money for the nonprofit I founded, Save One Life. And when he hit New York, he emailed me that I was going to ride
the last 50 miles with him to dip our wheels in the Atlantic Ocean, at Rye beach, in New Hampshire, not too far from where I live.

Oh really? I couldn’t refuse; he shamed me into it.

So I did have a top-notch Spanish touring bike, an Orbea Diva, though dusty and stiff, hidden in a closet. It was in storage for the past four years, after I bought it as a consolation prize when I turned 50, fell in the middle of the street on its maiden voyage, and put it away, too scared to ride it. Well, that’s all chronicled here. https://www.blog.kelleycom.com/2012_08_01_archive.html

Today, I continued what has become an addiction. (Barry, you knew this was going to happen.) I hopped on my baby (the Diva, which used to give me nightmares as it sat eerily waiting for me in my cellar closet, like some haunted, phantom thing from a Guillermo de Toro movie) at 9:30 am and headed out for Route 1A, and cycled along the Atlantic sea coast for over four hours, covering 64 miles, the most I’ve ever done. Yes, it hurt after a while, but you just can’t stop it. Whatever it takes.

Last week, if you are friends with me on Facebook (you are friends with me, right?), you might know I spent four days solo in Sedona, Arizona, where I indulged my new addiction. I checked in last Sunday into my hotel in Sedona, a mere two hours after the Arizona Hemophilia Association meeting, and almost immediately went for my first mountain bike trip. Why? I
was surrounded by majestic Boynton Canyon, with the desert and all its twisting, red-dusty paths calling to me. Something different and new. And kinda scary. Mountain biking is very different than touring biking. It’s like the difference between riding a Mustang with an attitude using a Western-saddle, and sitting all pretty and proper on a fast thoroughbred (well, not that fast when I am on it) on an English saddle.

The day was hotter than I thought, and it would be easy to dehydrate.
I slipped on a new backpack, very small, with a built in “Camelback”
water pouch. This has a tube connected to the “bladder” (I know, sounds gross) from which you can easily drink water.

I set out on the bike, hit “Deadman’s Trail” alone, and pounded my way through red dust, over lots of stones and sand. Sedona sits at 4,500 feet, and my heart was soon thumping in my chest. To my left, the massive sandstone wall of Boynton Canyon, with towering red rocks. Cacti and scrub bushes fringed the trail. After 30 minutes, I felt I was in the middle of nowhere, alone… the path was steep. I stopped, chickened-out (it is DEADman’s Trail, after all), and decided to turnaround the way I came: downhill, rocky, exciting!

My heart was pounding furiously, meaning that I
was overheating. It was trying desperately to circulate overheated blood from

my midsection, where it was “cooking” my internal organs, to the extremities. (I recall all this from my Outside magazines, when I used to enjoy reading about other people doing stupid things outside) This is about the only cooking I am ever successful at. Rest in the shade and water would take care of that. I took off my helmet, and my backpack, to allow my sweat to do its job and cool me.

The next day, after four hours of hiking Bear Mountain and Devil’s Trail in the 96-degree heat, in which I drank perhaps more water than in my whole life combined, I actually went for another mountain bike ride, on Cockscomb Trail. Who would be crazy enough to do this after such long and superheated hikes? People with bicycle addictions.

George, the Native American guide from the bike rental shop, gave me excellent tips on biking the trail. It was much better than Deadman’s Trail; more trail than steep rock steps, exciting. I found the trail head off the highway, entered, and was frustrated to stop a few times as I
didn’t have my rhythm down yet. Don’t power up the hills, George had said. That’s what you

“touring” people do. Just sit back, go in your easiest gear, and pretend you are walking “up” the hill. The hill with lots of rocks, you mean?

Yes. When I got through the rocky part, the trail smoothed out and became like the Run Away Train ride at Disneyworld. I marked the trail as I went with the contents of my stomach. I guess I pushed myself too hard and was so spent. But it was fun!

On Wednesday I wasn’t sure at first how to start my last day. Swim in the pool? Attend the yoga classes? Leisurely breakfast? Nope. Up at 6:30 am, made some tea, ate a banana and some berries, checked email, wrote to my daughters to tell them to come and find me if I disappear, threw on my riding gear and headed to the Activities Shop. By 8 am, with some cloud cover thankfully, I pumped down the road, to the Fay’s Canyon trail head, and dove into the
outback again to Cockscomb. I was going to nail it this time, and make George proud of me. No more walking my mountain bike. I did so much better; only had to stop twice as opposed to three or four times on Sunday. At times I felt like I was on a runaway horse, recalcitrant and skittish, as I bounced over the rocks, fishtailed in the red, fine dust, and then rolled up
and down the roller coaster trails. It was challenging, exhilarating, dusty, dirty, sweaty. And did I mention addictive?

After that, I came back out to the road, and then pedaled back towards the hotel, first taking a side tour to Deadman’s Trail again, determined to see it through the end. It was so much harder than Cockscomb, but I did much better this time. I actually pumped up the first very hard incline,
with many rocks, doing just what George had suggested. And in 20 minutes got to the tricky part where I gave up on Sunday. It was better after that, but still challenging. It suddenly got scorching hot as the sun rose, and I was sweating and drinking tons of water. I felt like I had leaks in my skin. Water in, water out. I had to stop now and then, and rest or walk the bike. At one point, the bike seat (which had a loose part to it that stuck out) caught on my shorts, tore a small hole in them and wouldn’t
allow me to hop off when I needed to, so down I went in the dirt, the bike landing on top. The handlebar jammed into my thigh, causing instantly a raised hematoma. Ouch. At that very
second a runner swept passed me (out in the canyon?), a Matthew McConaughey
lookalike, tanned, trim, ridiculously handsome and fit, and half naked. We said
hello… instant painkiller. Back on my bike, finally reaching the road, and aimed for the turnoff for my hotel.

But I didn’t want to go back, as it meant I had to leave tomorrow for Boston! I still had half an
hour so I swung the bike around, pedaled back to Cockscomb Trail and did it again, and this time only stopped once! It was such a great feeling. I was so incredibly hot, my heart was pounding, sweat
pouring out of me, my legs all banged up and bruised, and I never felt better in my life. (Well, maybe if I saw Matthew McConaughey’s look-alike again)

After the 64-mile ride today, I came back, lay on my bed still in full biking gear, and passed out for an hour. How will I make it to 100? Because I have to do 100. What good is an addiction if it doesn’t keep pulling you to push the envelope?

So here it is: On September 21, I will ride 100 miles to raise money for the Springfield Police Department, in honor of Officer Kevin Ambrose, who was killed in June 2012 in the line of duty, the first officer in that city in 25 years to die in action. My brother Tim, also an officer, was a good friend of his. So he and I will ride together, along with 200 other officers, with a full State Police escort. I might need it.

And, Barry, who got me into this mess to begin with, is going to ride with me, Kimberly
Haugstaud (executive director of Hemophilia Federation of America), Vaughn Ripley, and Allie Boutin of HFA (and a neighbor of mine!) and more, to raise funds for HFA on September 27. “Gears for Good.” Want to sponsor me? Take pity on me and my addiction, and think of a pledge. It’s all for a good cause—for HFA. And it’s only a few days after my 100-miler (my “Century”)—so I will be primed and ready! Or totally passed out somewhere in my gear. What I fear most is not the these two rides, but Barry whispering how I should do the cross-country ride with him in 2014… Barry, it’s not nice to take advantage of someone with an addiction!

Donate here…. http://www.razoo.com/story/Gears-For-Good-2014

Book I Just Read

The Places in Between by Rory Stewart [Kindle]

This book was a best seller, and recommended by my favorite magazine, Outside. In 2002, Rory, a
free-lance writer, decides to walk across Afghanistan just months after the Taliban were deposed, retracing the path of a former and ancient ruler, Babur. He claims to be researching a book about Afghan history and Babur, but this book is mostly about the people he encounters and the extreme physical hardships he endures. The problem is his writing is mercilessly dry, without emotion or sentiment, and seemingly for no purpose. Why does he undertake this trek? Just to see if it can be done. There is no setting up of girls’ schools, as in Three Cups of Tea; there is no bonding of humans who endure outside exposure and
survival. There is barely even a bonding with the faithful and suffering dog he adopts and who accompanies him. While he does have potentially an interesting story, it is told in such a way as to make the reader wonder why he or she is reading it. To what point? There seems to be none. And there is no excuse for mediocre writing; Rory had plenty of time alone to conjure up literary references, flowing of words, rhythm. It’s flat, uninspiring writing. I learned a bit about Afghanistan but didn’t enjoy the trip much. Two/five stars.