adventures of a sag driver

every four days, i am the SAG (support and gear) driver. that means i get up early, load 8-10 gallons of water in the back of the subaru, stand in the midst of people getting their bikes ready for the day, look important with my clipboard, check people off when they leave, then hit the road with my carload of water, gatorade, cheez-its, power bars, bananas, oranges, apples, bubble-gum, and pay-day candy bars.

i wait until the last rider leaves, then drive twenty miles down the route, giving a thumbs-up to everyone, and hoping i get a thumbs-up from them. heaven forbid i should have to stop and help someone with mechanical problems. me, the mechanical moron, with my yellow gloves on so i won't get grease under my nails, is supposed to know something. i guess by this time i do know a little bit. i can help change tires, but mostly i am good for moral support.

at the twenty-mile mark, i look for a place to park the car so everyone riding along can see it. i also look for a place where everyone can pee. we're all great at peeing on bushes and anywhere else we can find to squat.

each day, i try to have a theme for my sagging; for example, yesterday was called "farm implements". each time i stopped, it was by a huge carport of farm equipment. that way, everyone can choose which implement on which to pee. it's kind of exciting, in an odd sort of way.

after the farm implement theme du jour, it was time to back the car onto the ferry so we could yet again cross the mississippi. it was a fun and exciting ride. my friend, barbara, was with me in the sag, so she was navigating.

we drove seventeen miles down highway 77 and found an appropriate farm implement area. we sat and sat and no-one came.

"barb, i think they should be here by now. what's wrong?"

"i don't know. look at the cue sheet," she answered.

looking at the sheet, i wisely noted that we had forgotten to make a left turn on highway 210 about twelve miles back. i put the subaru in gear, backed out of the farm arena, and gunned it to the floor for the back-track. speeding along, we finally saw 210, took a right, and i gunned it even more. at long last, about 10 miles down the road, we saw our riders. driving ahead of them a mile or so, we had to skip the themed area, and settled for a tree with shade.

"where have you been?" asked jackie, the owner of the company (and of the subaru).

"let's just say we made a mistake," i answered.

everyone finished their gatorade and snack time, then continued on down the road.
barb and i wanted to get the car gassed up for the next sag driver, then we decided to get a car-wash.

after fumbling with the dollar bill changer for ten minutes, we entered the car-wash. the water started misting our tar-encrusted car. we then heard a "thud" eminating from the roof. i knew immediately what it was. the bike on top of the car was taller than the car-wash door. i slammed on the brakes; barb and i jumped out in the mist and began taking the bike off the roof of the subaru. we were both soaked, but glad to note we hadn't ruined the bike.

"i'll meet you at the dairy queen," barb said.

i continued through the car-wash, bicycle-less, another lesson learned by the sag driver du jour.