Photos by Eric Stampfli

It’s early Saturday morning in Reno, Nev., on the second day of the mighty Tour de Nez, one of the best handcycle races on the West Coast. More than an hour before start time, one by one the racers pull in to the reserved parking area, unload and assemble their bikes. The morning quiet is broken by the sound of portable air compressors pushing the internal pressure of thin racing tires as high as 150 psi. You can feel the excitement for the upcoming Criterium, a .7-mile short course race that’s as exciting to watch as it is to ride. The race will begin soon with riders taking off en masse, turning the event into a nearly chaotic spectacle with riders pushing all-out down the narrow downtown streets, doing as many laps as possible in 35 minutes, hoping to win the day.

For 43-year-old Will Lachenauer, a Reno resident, having been the first U.S. handcyclist to win first place in the Time Trial competition in his category at the Paracycling UCI World Cup in Segovia, Spain, the Tour de Nez is a sweet homecoming. The European handcycling community has a deep field of athletes that are highly competitive, with many of them making top dollar with sponsorships and government support. Lachenauer’s win was no easy feat, and this day will be no different.

But his story does not start this day, July 25, 2014, in Reno. It is what led him here that makes the story worth telling. Like many of us with SCI, it began with an accident — in his case a motocross wipeout in 2008 that left him with T5 complete paralysis. But unlike a lot of us, he knew exactly what happened and what the outcome might be. Lying crumpled on the field, he knew his spine was damaged, and his life — and Tanya’s, his pregnant wife — would change inexplicably. He had survived an earlier L1 compression with no lasting effects, had studied the bullet he had dodged and had become familiar with SCI. Not only that, his younger brother Edwin, then a college student, had sustained an incomplete SCI while skiing. Long before his own accident, Will had become more than familiar with Craig Hospital’s SCI rehabilitation unit. “My mother should probably get sainted after having two sons survive an SCI,” he jokes.

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Being injured at 39 is a lot different from facing an SCI when you’re a teenager. Lachenauer was already the father of one child, Uma, with another on the way. He was employed, supporting his wife as a manufacturer’s representative for multiple alpine sports companies — Dalbello Ski Boots and Obermeyer Sport, to name two. His first thoughts were, “Oh my God, what did I just do? I have a kid.” But shortly after waking up from spinal fusion surgery, he began writing a letter explaining his accident to his boss, telling him he would soon be leaving the area for rehab at Craig Hospital. “Damage control” had already begun. Since it was summertime, he knew the ski business would survive his absence, but “for the first time in my life, I felt panic.” Even with the family history of SCI, he says, “we didn’t have a clue as to how our lives would change.”

On those first few days following the accident, says Tanya, “my mother and I spent evenings on the Internet shopping for the best electric wheelchairs, not really knowing any better.” That changed when Will came home from Craig two months later.

“Things moved pretty quickly,” he says, “and after that first winter I knew that things were going to be all right.” The owners of his company came from Italy and wanted a tour of all his shops that he sold to in and around Lake Tahoe. Lachenauer was still wearing his clamshell brace when his bosses pulled up to the house in a large rented Suburban. Tanya chuckles as she remembers the apprehension and panic she felt when Will, newly released from the hospital, had to repeatedly transfer into the tall vehicle in front of clients.

“I wanted to follow Will and the clients around the lake in my own car in case he needed me, but that idea was shot down pretty quick.” The bosses and the company in general were very supportive of Will, and as that winter came and went, some of their initial fears subsided. “Don’t get me wrong,” she says, “things had changed. What used to be so simple — like taking out the boat or going skiing — was now more of a big deal.” She admits to initial anger and frustration, but now speaks with confidence and obvious acceptance.

Looking back, Lachenauer felt bad. “Bad doesn’t even sum it up,” he says. “I felt remorse for taking away the lifestyle that we were living, but I would not give up, I would not give up trying. She wasn’t the hovering type, and by then we had two kids to take care of. In some ways I think the necessity of that got us through those first difficult years. There was no time to wallow, no time to do anything but move forward.“

Their marriage met the challenge. “Marriage changes, it changes with careers, with kids, with different goals, with time. It’s about trying to figure out how to stay together through those changes. That’s marriage, and Tanya has been amazing, he says.”

John Kirsch, a local handcyclist, showed up at his door with a bike as soon as Lachenauer got home from rehab. Before he was even medically fit to ride, the local adaptive cycling community had rallied. When he finally did get on the bike, he had no idea how important cycling would become to his recovery. “This wasn’t a bunch of disabled guys riding around,” he says. “These were athletes.” They awoke his competitive spirit — the part of him that raced motorcycles, mountaineered, or pushed the bounds while alpine skiing.

Lachenauer added handcycling to his already busy day of work and family. Asked if the family and work were a distraction, he confidently states, “It was cycling that was the distraction.” His commitment forced him to get on the trainer late in the night and squeeze in workouts when he could. As the months passed, he got stronger and produced faster and faster times. He was soon winning the races that used to embarrass him. With family support, his recovery progressed, giving him a new target, the 2012 U.S. Paralympic team that would go to London. So far he had flown pretty much under the radar. Hardly anyone knew that the only thing between him and London was a single race: The U.S. Paralympic Cycling nationals in Augusta, Ga. in June of 2012.

According to the selection criteria, all he had to do was record the fastest time, mind you, against the best U.S. riders with years of international racing experience and who just last year were “waxing me by a minute or two.” Lachenauer not only won the time trial, the selected race that would guarantee inclusion to Team USA, he also commandingly won the road race with a comfortable two-minute-plus lead. But there were rumblings from Augusta that would rock Lachenauer and his supporters to the core. Terms like “discretionary selections” were being introduced, and at the end of the event — even after being victorious — Lachenauer’s name was not on the U.S. Paralympic cycling team’s roster.

An outcry grew, and there was talk of a race-off between Lachenauer and the main athlete in his class that he had beaten in Georgia. They were going to use the World Cup Paracycling event in Canada as a further test. But the powers that be ultimately demanded that this be stopped. It was simply cruel to extend this torture any longer; it was bad for the sport. The selections had been made, they said. Those of us who supported Lachenauer now looked at USA Paracycling with the same skepticism people viewed the results in a figure skating competition. In Lachenauer’s own words, “All I wanted was someone who could read a stopwatch.”

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Two years have passed and the pain is still evident when he talks about those days. However, when asked about the athlete who did go, Lachenauer has nothing but praise and respect. “Recovery is finding those things in life that make you happy. In time those good things outweigh the bad and recovery happens.”

Despite some medical issues, after 2012 he continued to win and make a name for himself internationally. In May 2014 he competed with the national team in the UCI, Union Cycliste Internationale World Cup in Castiglione della Pescaia, Italy, and then the previously mentioned World Cup event in Segovia. “There is a new feeling to the team now being led by the former USHF, (United States Handcycling Federation) director Ian Lawless. New coaches. New people at the top.”

When Lachenauer pulls his four-wheel-drive diesel van into the staging area parking lot before the Tour de Nez, most of the other athletes are already present. What started as a party in Reno’s first full-blown coffee house, de Gros Nez in 1986, has grown into an international event that is broadcast to over 20 countries on URide.TV.

Sometimes called the “Race of Truth,” the time trial is just the rider against the clock over a set distance. There are no real tactics, no drafting, tucking in close behind an opponent to let him or her attack the wall of air in front of you, and there’s no side-by-side racing where you can urge each other on. It’s you and the bike against the road, the sun, and the clock. The time trial is not a spectator sport, there’s not really much to see other than a single rider alone, often grimacing at the exertion and pain as they whiz past. You have no way to judge other competitors’ speed or effectiveness because there’s no one you’re riding against. It’s only you. Much like life itself, the time trial is about doing your best, and in the end not having any excuses.

Most of the athletes are already on their bikes or making last minute adjustments. Lachenauer, having quickly and efficiently adjusted his handcycle, pulls his bike on to the course for a warm-up. It’s not the usual course this year, and the athletes ride it looking for the proper line. The field has grown over the years and this year, as in the last few years, a large and now-experienced and fast contingent of PVA athletes are here under the leadership of Jody Shiflett, as well as riders up from The Bay Area Outreach and Recreation Program. The field also includes Lachenauer’s fellow U.S. National Paracycling teammate, Will Groulx, from Portland, Ore., as well as Paralympian, Anthony Pedefferi, long-time handcyclist and former national champion Seth Arseneau, and the man who started it all, John Kirsch, as well as many others.

The downtown Criterium, the signature event of the Tour de Nez, holds no surprises. Kirsch, Arseneau, and Groulx stay close for a while, trading the lead position with Lachenauer several times over the race. But Lachenauer confidently and with a substantial lead pulls far ahead for the win, as he does the following day for the road race held at the Fernely Speedway. It is a fitting homecoming, but also a warm-up for the invitational 2014 UCI Paracycling World Championships in Greenville, S.C., Aug. 28-Sept. 1 — where Lachenauer won a bronze in the individual time trial and a silver with Team USA in the relay.

In a very short time Lachenauer has discovered the secret to his own recovery. Family, a group of new friends in the handcycling community that will always welcome you, and the fully-supported solitude that riding a bike will give you. As any athlete knows, you can exorcize a lot of demons on a bike, and with each push against the pedals, you leave the darkness that much further behind. Fortunately for him and others who pursue adaptive sports, there is no pinnacle. You don’t reach the top and retire. It is something you will always do.