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jacktheriepe “Riding With Riepe” By Jack Riepe #116117


This month’s column is an oral history of “Riding With Riepe” as told by Michael Cantwell, one of the original “Secret K Bike Club” riders. Mr. Cantwell has known Jack Riepe for 18 years and has studied Riepe’s life philosophy for both loopholes and weak spots.


I WAS RIDING


with Riepe before he was famous, or at


least famous for the peculiar things he does that makes people talk about him. There are those who believe he takes chances. He occa- sionally does: getting into imaginative marriages, lighting up maduro cigars on first dates, drinking rye whiskey that will take the tint off a locomotive, or wind- ing out a K 75 in a spring mist on an interstate. And there are times when he’s done all four within an hour of each other. Those are the days when the best stories get spun about him. I met Jack in the


Adirondacks during the aftermath of an ice storm. It was February of 1998. The mercury was holding at a steady 32 degrees throughout a freak drizzle that lasted seven days and which covered thou- sands of square miles. From Montreal to Burlington (Vermont), from the Adirondacks to Albany, millions of trees and hundreds of miles of wire came crashing down. The nights were filled with the sound of anguished timber. Every road was choked with


92 BMW OWNERS NEWS December 2016


fallen trees, snarled with wires and draped by power poles bent at crazy angles. One by one, people made their way into


town, where committees were forming to staff shelters, to gather firewood, to search


the swing shift at the senior shelter, keep- ing the wood-burning furnace stoked and preventing anyone from heading outside. It was the first time I ever saw him with a serious look on his face. Even then I knew those donuts were in trouble. Leaders are drawn to a crisis. Riepe was drawn to heat, coffee and donuts. It would be three weeks


before the power com- pany got to us. Five more days before the National Guard arrived. But guys were running snowmo- biles over the mountain and on the logging trails. “Day Three” saw loads of milk and bread getting in from Saranac Lake this way. A guy on a sled tossed a bundle of papers to the crowd. It was the little Lake Placid Daily, and the crowd cheered. I found Riepe standing


for the elderly up in the mountains, and to keep everybody warm and fed. No one told these folks what to do. No one had to. These were North Country people. There was no panic and no anticipation of out- side help. Everyone knew that there were hundreds of towns like ours, all facing the same issues. We were on our own. I first saw Jack in the emergency meet-


ing. He was three seats from the stove... Two seats from the coffee...And one seat from the donuts. He volunteered to work


by the side of the road, staring at a tangle of wires. “Do you know anything about phone


lines?” he asked. I didn’t... But he was undeterred. “You’re a skinny little weasel,” Riepe


observed. “Do you think you could climb up that pole and connect one of these?” He gestured to a wire running along the ground back to his cabin on the hill. Riepe didn’t actually say “weasel” but something that rhymed with “buck.” And when I


In the words of Michael Cantwell


lifestyle


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