'There are professional riders and average Joes like us'

SANDPOINT — Team Laughing Dog is hoping eight is enough.

Starting this morning in Oceanside, California, eight intrepid local cyclists will begin pedaling around the clock until they reach Annapolis, Maryland in the annual 3,000 mile Race Across America.

For the fourth consecutive year, Team Laughing Dog is sending a team to the starting line, this year raising money for cystinosis.

Longtime sponsor Fred Colby has watched the previous teams successfully navigate their way across these beautiful United States, and decided it was time for him to take a turn in the saddle. The gumption just happened to coincide with a recent landmark birthday.

“I turned 50 this year, and thought I had to do something epic,” says Colby, owner of Laughing Dog Brewing. “My wife won’t let me go climb Everest, so it’s this.”

For the first time Team Laughing Dog entered the eight-person team race, which goes just as fast, but spreads the yeoman work out among more riders. Joining Colby are Brent Swank, Landy Hauck, John Hatcher, Marty Stitsel, Whit Whitman, Greg Smith and Brandon Peterson.

The team is broken into two four-person squads, which then break into two two-person teams. Two riders will alternate 30-minute stints on the bike for six hours, then drive the support van while the other two riders do a six-hour pull. Then the other team of four takes over and repeats the process. In reality, each rider shares a six-hour stint and bikes for roughly three hours a day.

Making sure everything runs like clockwork is crew chief Kirk Johnson, who will be joined by Mel Dick, Ethan Colby, Dave Sturgis, Rich Mullins, John Monks and Mary Lemm on the seven-person crew. Their main job is to make sure the riders don’t have to worry about anything except turning over the pedals, and ensuring that everyone stays safe.

“To get 15 people across the country without ever stopping, at 15 miles per hour, it’s a logistical nightmare,” describes Dick, no stranger to this race. “You try and make sure everyone is where they need to be.”

Dick has been a part of all four incarnations of the team, twice as a rider and soon-to-be twice on the crew. He finds it remarkable that a little town like Sandpoint has sent four straight teams to the RAAM, which boasts a largely international field of riders from bigger cities.

“You have to have a sense of adventure,” says Dick. “There are professional riders and average Joes like us.”

Whitman, 50, is the lone female on the team. She lives in New Hampshire, but spends her summers in Sandpoint, where her partner is from. After last year’s race ended, she called Colby and said “let’s do this.”

An avid cyclist in her 30s, she has dreamed about getting back into it and saw the chance. Whitman has no reservations about being the lone female on the team, and is ready to pull her weight, both literally and figuratively.

“It doesn’t even faze me, I never thought of it as an issue,” says Whitman, who can’t wait to get an up close and personal look at the scenery. “There’s eight of us doing our best to get across the country.”

Stitsel, 68, is the eldest member of the team and taking on the challenge despite a broken vertebrae, which he says doesn’t hurt while he’s riding. If mental toughness is required, Stitsel should more than hold his own, having run marathons when he was younger. Seven straight sleep-deprived days of cycling and being on the road will no doubt take its toll on everyone involved.

“This is like a marathon, except a marathon is a sprint, three hours. This lasts seven days,” says Stitsel, who feels his body will hold up fine. “Ask me how I feel after the fourth or fifth day, knowing we still have three to go.”

Sturgis, who played defensive back for the New Orleans Saints for a couple of years in the late 1960s, is part of the crew. His grandson Henry Sturgis has cystinosis, and he says the effort is all about raising money and awareness for the disease. Like all on the crew, he knows dangers exist when biking across the country’s highways.

“All I want is for everybody to make it safe, there’s a lot of obstacles out there,” admits Sturgis. “Have some fun, just don’t hurt anybody along the way.”

It’s not just the 3,000 miles that make RAAM such a challenge, but the 170,000 feet of climbing that takes place over 12 states. West Virginia is notorious for being a brutal stretch, with many short but steep climbs, which can zap the juice out of weary legs.

The biggest climb is in Colorado, where oxygen gets very thin above 10,000 feet. Luckily, what goes up must come down, and Colby was excited when he discovered he’ll get to descend what is called the “glass elevator,” where riders will drop more than 4,000 feet in just eight miles.

“The more adventurous riders hit 70 miles per hour,” says Colby. “I won’t get more than 50.”

Just the training leading up to the race has been an adventure for Colby, who lost nearly 40 pounds last winter. When he wasn’t in a spin class, he moved his desk at work and put up a stationary bike, getting the legs primed to be pushed like never before.

His goal is to break six days, nine hours and 28 minutes, the time of the first Team Laughing Dog in 2011. And Colby didn’t hesitate at all when asked what he was looking forward to most.

“The end. I didn’t realize how much I was going to train and put into this,” admits Colby. “I’m joking that I’m going to eat a big greasy cheeseburger at the finish line.”

To follow the team across the country, or to make a donation to 24 Hours for Hank, visit “www.teamlaughingdog.com.”