When Richard Zipf speaks about cycling and the Wheelmen the animation in his voice is exceeded only by the rapid-fire eruption of memories and anecdotes.

As I sort through my hurriedly scratched notes from that evening with a residual buzzing in my head, I sense that if there’s a connection between Richard the "cyclist" and Richard the "physician" it’s in his dogged commitment to his pursuits. Asked about the interplay between the two, however, his response is "the willingness to inflict pain".

Several years ago this physician-husband-father decided to experiment in some personally uncharted territory. He bought a ho-hum bicycle, took to the bike path, and methodically increased his distances on it (because it didn’t compute at the time that you could ride on streets, which were for cars). He knew it was time to expand his horizons when the resident squirrels began to seem as familiar as his immediate family members.

In 1993 he bought a better and more comfortable bike, heard about a club ride in the Delta (35 miles!), bit the bullet and signed up. He finished the ride and was hooked. What was next- a 90-mile ride? Do people really ride that distance in one day?

That same year he gave a piece of his heart to Cardiac Hill. Intending on doing the shorter ride, he made it up "the hill" and decided to go for the big mileage. It wasn’t the shot that was fired over his head or the fact that he finished last as much as the birds circling above ("Oh my God, they’ve spotted me!") that made him a candidate for post-traumatic stress. But he was hooked.

Next came the 1993 Sierra Century, his first 100. Gee, that wasn’t so bad, so what about this Death Ride? Completing five passes in 1994 he decided it was time to get serious, so he looked around and spotted then-bachelor John Marinko. What’s the deal on these double centuries? So the training began and Death Valley was their first challenge. They did a second and third double and licked their chops at the mention of the "Terrible Two". Shortly before the ride they read the blurb that delineated the criteria for attempting the ride, which included a fairly strong admonition to not attempt it if these criteria weren’t met. Since he met exactly zero of them he decided it was the ride for him. Not only did he complete it, he took the Triple Crown pin as well. He and John finished 7 doubles that year and while Richard looked for his next adventure "John got married" and Richard hasn’t given up hope of finding him.

Incidentally, word got around that Zipf had done the Terrible Two, which no club members other than Ken Bell, Ray McAfee and Bill O’donnel (others???) had completed. The next year about 14 members signed up for it. Hmmm.

His next challenge was to determine his next challenge. Aha! There’s always the PAC Tour. He took his insight home to his wife, Mary. Having become somewhat accustomed to hearing the unexpected, she nevertheless was bewildered when he explained that PAC stood for Pacific Atlantic Cycling. His training for this ride involved doing back-to-back 150 milers on two months’ worth of weekends prior to the tour. "All I dreamt about before this transcontinental trip was riding." Off he went, the first club member to go on the 24-day, 140 miles/day journey.

In 1998 he did the Ridge of the Rockies from El Paso to Calgary and it was only 120 miles/day for about 19 days, a bit of relief. "There’s a big difference between 140 miles per day and 120 miles per day." Uh-huh.

He delights in recounting the splendor of this past summer’s Italian tour with Rick and Monica Pappas. "The most fun trip I’ve been on," he says, with the 22 alpine passes providing some of the most spectacular scenery and glorious highs of his cycling life.

Richard says that prior to buying that first bike he had never before been athletic in this fashion. He’s not sure what prompted him to take to the bike trail, but lauds the benefits of exercise, camaraderie, touring and the fact that he "would not have become as familiar as I am with the geography and roads had I not taken up cycling".

As for the club, he has always found everyone to be extraordinarily helpful, and appreciates the wide-ranging availability of rides, from the short to the very long and challenging. "I never would have gone this far without the Wheelmen."

After garnering degrees from Stanford (Bachelor’s in Biological Sciences), Berkeley (Master’s in Physiology) and Columbia (M.D.), and establishing his practice (Ophthalmology) in Sacramento, Mary and he raised son David, 28 and daughter Susan, 25. In his spare time he has accomplished a couple of other things. He has nurtured his lifelong interest in music, most notably by a restoration project begun 15 years ago on a pipe organ (circa 1916) consisting of 2,200 pipes and procured from the Spreckels Mansion in Coronado.

So there you have it. Do you think this ophthalmologist could help retrieve my eyeballs from the back of my head?

Stan Leff

Picture if you will, an eight-year old lad on his red Roadmaster, venturing to town on his first significant ride, his buddy in tow. They get to their destination, the pharmacy and its soda fountain, park their bikes outside and head in for perhaps a round or two of sarsaparilla. Refueled, they head for the door and their mounts. Here the story takes a turn. THE ROADMASTER IS MISSING!

But lo and behold, the stolen cycle is eventually found. Picture if you will, an eight-year old Stan Leff once again riding his red Roadmaster—his "customized" red Roadmaster. That’s right, his handle-bars-turned-upside-down, fender-less and chain-guard-less Roadmaster, compliments of the bicycle thief. To know Stan is to love this priceless image.

It’s no surprise to learn that he’s a physician (Family Practice). He has that certain comportment that exudes quiet intelligence, self-assurance and precision. He is also extremely personable, down-to-earth and prone to wry humor.

Several years ago, and prior to joining the Wheelmen, he and next-door neighbor Ron Brown began doing weekend rides together. Ron is about a decade older than Stan so early on Stan says he "gave Ron a pretty good workout". Ron is now retired and racks up serious mileage within the club. "I think I’m now his recovery ride," laughs Stan.

About two years ago, after participating in a couple of the Wheelmen rides, Stan joined the club. He is taken with the friendliness of the members, who clearly mirror his own. During this past summer’s Oregon tour the good doctor accompanied Ralph Lubick and Michael Dillon to a Medford Hospital after Ralph’s spill and elbow fracture and Michael’s experience with a way-too-rapid heartbeat. Returning to our campground in the wee hours Stan was nevertheless chipper and ready for the day’s ride.

As for the connection between his practice of medicine and cycling he says that he is constantly recommending exercise to his patients, if not advising them to do it. "I have to practice what I preach." He recommends building slow, steady progress so as to prevent possible injury due to too big a jump in speed and/or mileage. So, practicing what he preaches, his goals are to ride a minimum of three times per week and to increase his annual mileage by 5-10%. Plus, there’s the motivation of food. "Riding a lot lets me eat a lot, and I like to eat."

About four years ago he and his cousin signed on with Scenic Cycling Adventures for a tour from San Francisco to Santa Monica, along Highway 1. He considers this his best cycling trip and achievement and has established the goal of riding from Oregon to San Francisco in order to extend the chain.

His most memorable cycling experiences include trips to Canada and Vermont with his wife, Marion. These trips, put on by cycling tour companies, spoiled him with their bed-and-breakfast luxuries. "They’re like camps for adults. You leave your comfortable bed and go down to a ready breakfast, do your ride and find cookies and lemonade waiting for you at your destination."

Raised in Houston, Texas, Stan earned his Bachelor’s from Columbia University in New York City, then headed back to Houston and Baylor College of Medicine. He did his internship and residency at U.C. Davis where he met Marion, who is also a Family Practice physician. They met in the E.R., "just like on T.V.," he quipped. When asked to elaborate he politely declined further comment.

He modestly offers up snow skiing and music (classical and classical jazz) as other interests, not to mention duties as chauffeur for Saturday soccer games. Stan and Marion have two children: an eighteen year old son who’s in his freshman year at Cal Poly and a fifteen year old daughter in her sophomore year at Rio Americano. He is suffering the new pangs of partially empty nest syndrome, all the more poignant when he claims his greatest achievement to be "my two children", who are also clearly his greatest interest.

All of this makes me question the accuracy of that old adage about nice guys finishing last. With his youthful demeanor this truly nice guy is a poster boy for success.