This morning I did something that I have not done in 25 years of riding my bike. I decided yesterday that I would meet the Morning Ride guys at 5.45 am this morning. I haven't been out for a couple of weeks due to wheel/bike/schedule/life/work issues, but on the days I am not riding my bike to work, I would like to be sure to get a ride in and the morning is the best time to ensure that happens. Add in on Tuesdays that I drop my son off at school, which means a slightly later start for me every Tuesday, and it seems like the perfect day to get up at 5 am, ride my bike up Hatch so that I would have the privilege an hour later of watching 20 guys ride away from me up Hatch. Sounds like a good plan, no?
At 5.08 am this morning I woke up and looked at the clock. That is as late as I can get up and still hope to ride the 20+ minutes to join the ride. I was held up by various issues, the biggest being the thick, dense fog that was firmly settled into my brain that would not clear. I checked the outside temperature and noticed that at my elevation on the valley floor there was great visibility but about halfway up the bluff there was a layer of fog similar to that in my brain. No problem, though, so I got dressed a bit warmer to accommodate the cold, moist air, including putting on a light cap that fits under my helmet. Made my way to the basement to check air pressure and roll away.
As I was putting on my shoes I realized my brain was engaging in a round of yes/no. Yes I should ride; no I should not ride. Yes I needed to get in some miles; no I did not feel like going. Yes I would enjoy the ride eventually; no I did not want to go outside. Yes I have riding goals this summer that will be well served by riding; no I wasn't feeling like riding. Yes, the concrete floor did look comfortable for sleeping; no, I hadn't had a cup of coffee yet but could use one. Yes, it was still early enough to go back to sleep; no, that didn't seem like a bad idea at all.
You can see that this was a struggle. Normally I am happy to be getting on my bike, but this morning I could not muster that feeling at all. This was exacerbated by the time, which was looking more like I would be missing the ride start even if I climbed Hatch like a pumped up Marco Pantani (or Vinokurov if you are looking for a more recent example). Nonetheless, I put on my shoes, booties, gloves, pumped up the tires and rolled away from the house.
I have to ride along Highway 195 for about a mile and a half to get to Hatch. My brain was fuzzy and the air was seeming very wet and cold. I was still not enjoying myself, but at least I had stared down the negative thoughts and gotten out there. I was just a bit before Hatch when my brain started to very slowly process something. My thoughts went something like this, although to really get the feeling, pretend that you are reading this the way a 78 rpm record sounded when you put it on 33 1/3 rpm. In other words, like the words are translated through molasses.
Hmmm. Sommmethhhhinnnng is nnnnnoooot quiiiiiite rrrrriiiiight.
Whhhhhyyyyy doooooeeeessss mmmmyyyyy hhhhheeeeaaaad ffffffeeeeeeelllll diiiifffffeeeerrrrrreeeennnnt?
There is more wind on my head, I think, or it feels different, or maybe not.
I wonder if I put a helmet on this morning. No, that can't be right. I never ride without a helmet.
I wonder if I can see my helmet with my eyeballs if I look up. No, maybe not. I wonder if I should feel my head to check for a helmet. Yes, that is what I should do.
What. I don't have a helmet on my head. How can that be. What does that mean. Where is my helmet. Why am I riding down Highway 195 with semi's blowing past me while I have no helmet. Oh right, like a helmet is going to mean jack-squat if one of these 18-wheelers mows me down. But I should have a helmet. I wonder where there is one. I suppose back at home. Why don't I have a helmet. What does this mean.
You can see that these thoughts were moving very slowly in my cranium. I think that normally 1) I wouldn't leave without a helmet and 2) if I managed to do that, I would have an instantaneous "oh crap!?" reaction that would be jolt rather than a slowly dawning realization.
At that point, I started wondering whether this had been a subconscious sabotage of my ride. Part of my brain was saying "ride" but clearly some part of my brain had been putting up a valiant "no ride" fight. "Ride" had won the battle of getting out the door, but clearly "no ride" had won the war.
I turned around at Hatch, feeling a bit naked and vulnerable, and rode slowly back to my house, wondering all the time what had happened and what I should do next.
What I ended up doing was putting my bike back on the wall, taking off my cleats, and going up the the family room to lay down on the couch. Hopefully my head and body will get together for the next ride and I will cover more than 3 miles before 6 am.
Rider Thhhhrrrreeeeee.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Monday, May 10, 2010
Joy of Racing
There are lots of tomes on the "Joy of . . ." Best known, or at least first, there was the Joy of Cooking, and later the follow-up book, the Joy of Sex. Like "____ for Dummies", you can find this title repeated on lots of topics. If you include the Joy of Cycling with those other two you actually have a lot of important life issues covered, but I wanted to share a thought or two on the Joy of Racing.
For some reason I have recently discussed my riding proclivities with a few civilians. In other words, rather than just gabbing with other riders about riding topics, I have been drawn into conversations with non-riders who have asked questions about specific cycling issues or rides. At some point this leads to either a stated or unstated question from these non-riders, "Why does your "fun" involved so much suffering?"
It's a reasonable question and not one that is easy to answer. I definitely didn't come by it naturally. My mother's most repeated quote on all subjects involving sports or exercise is "Sweat kills." Very pithy, eh? My father isn't as emphatic, but it is safe to say that sports have not been an important part of his life (If, by the way, that is not a safe thing to say, I will hear about it, right Dad?).
But somewhere along the line I picked up a love of some sports. The last football game I sat through all the way was the Seahawks in the Super Bowl, so spectating is not on the top of my list, but I like participating. I like the hard work and the sense of joy mixed with exhaustion that comes from a long bike ride. Last Sunday was one of those days where it was just the right mix of hard work and satisfaction, but without the misery that comes from going too far or too fast. But that is bike "riding" or even "training", and those are very different feeling than racing.
I haven't raced as much as Rider One or Rider Two, so I would be interested in their view on it, but here are my thoughts on the joy of bike racing. One, I look for chances to race as long as I can be "competitive". For me, that does not mean winning. It just means that sometimes I think I can "race my way to fitness" and that is one of the most self-delusional things I have ever thought. If, however, I have some fitness and can keep up with the group, then I look for opportunities to race. Two, there is only one part of the race that I enjoy: finishing. I like crossing the finish line and that is true whether I am first (and, yes, I have had that joy, although winning in the C pack has been described to me as the same honor as being the tallest midget at the circus) or whether I am pack-fodder or even behind the pack when that choice has been mine rather than forced on me.
For example, at the Frozen Flatlands Sunday road race, I was with the group for 22 or so of the 24 miles, but as we came up to the last two big rollers back into Cheney I realized that I didn't have the legs for a sprint that was likely to put me in the top ten (or twenty probably), so I made the conscious decision to let the group go and just ride the last couple of k's in by myself. I was completely contented when I crossed the finish line as I had raced reasonably smart, had the power to stay with the pack and made the decision to drop off rather than getting dropped (as I had the day before). (An aside. I realize that riding on my own is harder than just staying with the pack up until the finish, but I have a high degree need to finish with "the rubber side down", aka, not "crash" in a field sprint. 18th or 38th doesn't make much difference in my life or my bragging, so eliminating that 1-in-15 pile-up is well worth it.)
I also enjoy the time after the finish line. The feeling of satisfaction from racing and being done is really significant. Really. It is a nice feeling to have sweated out the pre-race tension, the during race tension and hard work and then crossing the finish line. I can't think of another thing that feels the same way as finishing a race, particularly one that went well. It is uniquely and deeply gratifying and the harder the race, the better the feeling. I am sure that the riders who finish the Grand Tours all end up with a smug feeling of satisfaction that lasts for many, many years.
I also enjoy the time before a race. I like training; I like having my equipment cleaned up and tuned up ready for a race (no, it doesn't always happen, but it is nice when it does); and I like the sign-up and bullshitting that goes on at the race ahead of time. There is a sweet and bitter tension that you have before a race. I know that some people get so nervous they don't like to race, but I think I get about the right amount of nervous - the kind where it makes you alert and tense, but in a good way.
So know I have covered the pre-race and post-race, but how about the Joy of actually racing, the during-the-race part of the race? Here is my take on that - There is none. At least for me.
Racing is hard. It is physically hard and it is mentally hard. In order to race well you have to be paying attention to at least a couple dozen things at the same time. The other riders, the road, the road to come, the weather, the wind, your exertions, your hydration/nutrition - in other words, everything that is happening or might happen. And, you have to do it will riding your bike fast. Sean Yates said that the Tour de France is a three-week long, 1,500 mile ride that you do 2 miles an hour faster than you want to ride. That really is the essence of most racing. It all takes place at least 2 miles an hour faster than is comfortable. That may not seem like much, but if aren't a racer, try going out to do a hard 30 minutes at the fastest pace you can sustain, whether that is 14 mph or 19 mph (and I'm not saying the fastest that is comfortable; I am saying the fastest you can sustain). Now, go 2 miles per hour faster. You can probably do it if you dig in and really try, but it is hard. It is physically taxing and mentally taxing just to sustain that pace. Now, picture that effort in the middle of 20-50 other riders doing the same thing and you start to get the sense of what it's like to be in a pack.
So, if it is not fun, why do it? Well, the answer isn't that simple. The time during the race is taxing and there isn't a way to call it "fun", but it is fully engaging in a way that real life doesn't offer very often. It is also satisfying to be in a straightforward competition, where there are clear rules about how the race goes, which is unlike real life where there are so many permutations of the written and unwritten rules that it is nice to be in a black-and-white arena. And there is a level of satisfaction that comes from doing any job well, or completing any hard task, that is amplified when you add the element of physical exhaustion. So, while this blog post is running a bit long, it is because the answer is not straight-forward. Is there joy in racing - yes. It is like the joy of riding hard, but on steroids (oops, not a good cycling analogy, but you get the idea). It is not "fun" per se while you are actually racing, but it is fun, kind of. There is joy, it's just hard to explain. If you have raced, and keep racing, then you know exactly what I am trying to express. And if you haven't raced, or tried it and don't like it, well then, you can always turn to the Joy of Cooking or the Joy of Sex. Your choice.
Rider Three
For some reason I have recently discussed my riding proclivities with a few civilians. In other words, rather than just gabbing with other riders about riding topics, I have been drawn into conversations with non-riders who have asked questions about specific cycling issues or rides. At some point this leads to either a stated or unstated question from these non-riders, "Why does your "fun" involved so much suffering?"
It's a reasonable question and not one that is easy to answer. I definitely didn't come by it naturally. My mother's most repeated quote on all subjects involving sports or exercise is "Sweat kills." Very pithy, eh? My father isn't as emphatic, but it is safe to say that sports have not been an important part of his life (If, by the way, that is not a safe thing to say, I will hear about it, right Dad?).
But somewhere along the line I picked up a love of some sports. The last football game I sat through all the way was the Seahawks in the Super Bowl, so spectating is not on the top of my list, but I like participating. I like the hard work and the sense of joy mixed with exhaustion that comes from a long bike ride. Last Sunday was one of those days where it was just the right mix of hard work and satisfaction, but without the misery that comes from going too far or too fast. But that is bike "riding" or even "training", and those are very different feeling than racing.
I haven't raced as much as Rider One or Rider Two, so I would be interested in their view on it, but here are my thoughts on the joy of bike racing. One, I look for chances to race as long as I can be "competitive". For me, that does not mean winning. It just means that sometimes I think I can "race my way to fitness" and that is one of the most self-delusional things I have ever thought. If, however, I have some fitness and can keep up with the group, then I look for opportunities to race. Two, there is only one part of the race that I enjoy: finishing. I like crossing the finish line and that is true whether I am first (and, yes, I have had that joy, although winning in the C pack has been described to me as the same honor as being the tallest midget at the circus) or whether I am pack-fodder or even behind the pack when that choice has been mine rather than forced on me.
For example, at the Frozen Flatlands Sunday road race, I was with the group for 22 or so of the 24 miles, but as we came up to the last two big rollers back into Cheney I realized that I didn't have the legs for a sprint that was likely to put me in the top ten (or twenty probably), so I made the conscious decision to let the group go and just ride the last couple of k's in by myself. I was completely contented when I crossed the finish line as I had raced reasonably smart, had the power to stay with the pack and made the decision to drop off rather than getting dropped (as I had the day before). (An aside. I realize that riding on my own is harder than just staying with the pack up until the finish, but I have a high degree need to finish with "the rubber side down", aka, not "crash" in a field sprint. 18th or 38th doesn't make much difference in my life or my bragging, so eliminating that 1-in-15 pile-up is well worth it.)
I also enjoy the time after the finish line. The feeling of satisfaction from racing and being done is really significant. Really. It is a nice feeling to have sweated out the pre-race tension, the during race tension and hard work and then crossing the finish line. I can't think of another thing that feels the same way as finishing a race, particularly one that went well. It is uniquely and deeply gratifying and the harder the race, the better the feeling. I am sure that the riders who finish the Grand Tours all end up with a smug feeling of satisfaction that lasts for many, many years.
I also enjoy the time before a race. I like training; I like having my equipment cleaned up and tuned up ready for a race (no, it doesn't always happen, but it is nice when it does); and I like the sign-up and bullshitting that goes on at the race ahead of time. There is a sweet and bitter tension that you have before a race. I know that some people get so nervous they don't like to race, but I think I get about the right amount of nervous - the kind where it makes you alert and tense, but in a good way.
So know I have covered the pre-race and post-race, but how about the Joy of actually racing, the during-the-race part of the race? Here is my take on that - There is none. At least for me.
Racing is hard. It is physically hard and it is mentally hard. In order to race well you have to be paying attention to at least a couple dozen things at the same time. The other riders, the road, the road to come, the weather, the wind, your exertions, your hydration/nutrition - in other words, everything that is happening or might happen. And, you have to do it will riding your bike fast. Sean Yates said that the Tour de France is a three-week long, 1,500 mile ride that you do 2 miles an hour faster than you want to ride. That really is the essence of most racing. It all takes place at least 2 miles an hour faster than is comfortable. That may not seem like much, but if aren't a racer, try going out to do a hard 30 minutes at the fastest pace you can sustain, whether that is 14 mph or 19 mph (and I'm not saying the fastest that is comfortable; I am saying the fastest you can sustain). Now, go 2 miles per hour faster. You can probably do it if you dig in and really try, but it is hard. It is physically taxing and mentally taxing just to sustain that pace. Now, picture that effort in the middle of 20-50 other riders doing the same thing and you start to get the sense of what it's like to be in a pack.
So, if it is not fun, why do it? Well, the answer isn't that simple. The time during the race is taxing and there isn't a way to call it "fun", but it is fully engaging in a way that real life doesn't offer very often. It is also satisfying to be in a straightforward competition, where there are clear rules about how the race goes, which is unlike real life where there are so many permutations of the written and unwritten rules that it is nice to be in a black-and-white arena. And there is a level of satisfaction that comes from doing any job well, or completing any hard task, that is amplified when you add the element of physical exhaustion. So, while this blog post is running a bit long, it is because the answer is not straight-forward. Is there joy in racing - yes. It is like the joy of riding hard, but on steroids (oops, not a good cycling analogy, but you get the idea). It is not "fun" per se while you are actually racing, but it is fun, kind of. There is joy, it's just hard to explain. If you have raced, and keep racing, then you know exactly what I am trying to express. And if you haven't raced, or tried it and don't like it, well then, you can always turn to the Joy of Cooking or the Joy of Sex. Your choice.
Rider Three
Friday, May 7, 2010
Nothing is unfortunate.
Followers of some eastern religions, or at least fans of The Matrix, often postulate on the grand design of life. For some, there is comfort in a realization that nothing happens without a reason.
Sitting in a meeting on Tuesday that was doomed (destined?) to run late, I came to the stark realization that lining up for the infamous Corsa Brutale race--arguably the toughest course of our Tuesday Night series--wasn't going to happen. This didn't put me in the best of moods, but then again in my reality things like this happen.
In any case, arriving home just seconds before others were about to start their race, my wife asked whether I was planning to go ride on my own. A good idea.
A really good idea.
I wasn't supposed to race tonight. No, I was supposed to experience an almost perfect evening on the mountain bike trails that start at the end of my road. I was supposed to spend time on a ribbon of singletrack, surrounded by balsam flowers in full bloom, with the fading sunlight gently filtering through the pine trees. I was supposed to find my flow on the bike, to work hard on my own, and to enjoy the biggest of the little things in life.
I had really looked forward to the race. But missing it might have been one of the best things that happened to me today.
Nothing is unfortunate.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Quicksilver's Shop Ride Reminder - Thursday, May 6
Do you really need to be told again? Whatever.
Today, 5.30 pm. Starting at the shop.
Quicksilver
Today, 5.30 pm. Starting at the shop.
Quicksilver
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Bike to Work Week
Bike to Work Week is coming up rapidly. It is May 16 - 20 this year and here is the schedule:
2010 Bike To Work Week Schedule
Because of the attention on it and because the weather is ever so slowly turning nicer, I have been wanting to get riding to work again. I have to admit that I did very little bike commuting last year. I have a whole slew of excuses, and while it might amuse me to elaborate on them, I will just say that this year I am ready to ride to work a lot more. Today my wife and sons all had early commitments and we all gone before 7 am. I thought it would be the perfect morning to get my gear ready and ride to work for the first time this year. Let's just say that there is a reason that the experts suggest a dry run on a non-work day.
Nonetheless, I persevered and was finally ready to leave my house about 15 minutes after I normally get to work. Oh well, thankfully my position as a highly paid blogger gives me some flexibility in my schedule.
The ride was uneventful in the grander sense, but it was very eventful in the look-at-the-world-around-you way. I ride some of the same roads that most of my bike riding covers, but today I was on a much heavier bike with two loaded panniers, containing a briefcase full of things that I mostly would have left at the office if I had thought about riding my bike to work, and my clothes. The bike I was riding is virtually a museum-piece mountain bike that tips the scales about 40 lbs before loading the bags. It is reasonable to say that I rode slower today than I did on Sunday heading up to join the group ride. And that is one of the things that is fun about the riding my bike to work.
The trip from my back door to standing in my office was exactly 25 minutes. When I drive, this same trip is closer to 15 minutes. If I rode my racing bike and beat cheeks, it would be in the 18-20 minute range, so the time penalty is minimal. The nice thing about it is the slower pace enables me to look around and see much more than when I take the same route on a faster vehicle, whether motored or not. I ride my motorcycle to work lots of days so I am used to being exposed to the weather, but dropping my speed that much completely changes the experience.
I picked a cool, but dry, day to start my bike commuting, but once I get in the swing of things, it is easier to expand the idea of day that works for cycling. I am not a hard-core, every day commuter, but there are years when I ride enough to feel like I can legitimately stake a claim to the title and today was a reminder of why.
One equipment note. I have commuted to work on race bikes with a messenger bag or a backpack on my back; I have commuted on my mountain bike the same way; I have modified a steel frame bike to include cyclocross tires, fenders and lights for early/late season rides that works great for commuting; and today I took my 20 year old mountain bike on which I had added a rack and panniers. The point? If you have two wheels, you can make it work. Don't let the "right" equipment or a dedicated ride hold you back from slinging a leg over the frame and getting yourself to work.
Lastly, the best thing about riding to work? For me, it is riding home. It causes me to be more mindful of when I need to leave work and I try to take a longer, harder loop home. Getting home with a bit of a cycling work-out already done is the best way to sit down to dinner. I'm looking forward to it already.
Rider Three
2010 Bike To Work Week Schedule
- May 16 – Education Fair at River Park Square. Bike corral on Main Avenue. Commute Challenge begins.
- May 17 – Pancake Breakfast in Riverfront Park, 7-9am; Music by Liz Rognes. Commuters attending the Kickoff Event will get to RIDE THE EDGE with the freshest and newest coffee from Spokane's own Roast House coffee.
- May 19 – Walk & Roll to School Day: participating Spokane Public Schools
- Various days that week – Energizer Stations: locations countywide TBD will be announced on the Web site
- May 21 – Wrap-up Party at Steam Plant Grill, 4:30-6:30pm. Registered participants only--must RSVP.
- June 12 – Four-week Commute Challenge ends. Make sure you've logged your biking!
- June 30 (date/location still being confirmed) – Conclusion of four-week Commute Challenge; picnic and results announced.
Because of the attention on it and because the weather is ever so slowly turning nicer, I have been wanting to get riding to work again. I have to admit that I did very little bike commuting last year. I have a whole slew of excuses, and while it might amuse me to elaborate on them, I will just say that this year I am ready to ride to work a lot more. Today my wife and sons all had early commitments and we all gone before 7 am. I thought it would be the perfect morning to get my gear ready and ride to work for the first time this year. Let's just say that there is a reason that the experts suggest a dry run on a non-work day.
Nonetheless, I persevered and was finally ready to leave my house about 15 minutes after I normally get to work. Oh well, thankfully my position as a highly paid blogger gives me some flexibility in my schedule.
The ride was uneventful in the grander sense, but it was very eventful in the look-at-the-world-around-you way. I ride some of the same roads that most of my bike riding covers, but today I was on a much heavier bike with two loaded panniers, containing a briefcase full of things that I mostly would have left at the office if I had thought about riding my bike to work, and my clothes. The bike I was riding is virtually a museum-piece mountain bike that tips the scales about 40 lbs before loading the bags. It is reasonable to say that I rode slower today than I did on Sunday heading up to join the group ride. And that is one of the things that is fun about the riding my bike to work.
The trip from my back door to standing in my office was exactly 25 minutes. When I drive, this same trip is closer to 15 minutes. If I rode my racing bike and beat cheeks, it would be in the 18-20 minute range, so the time penalty is minimal. The nice thing about it is the slower pace enables me to look around and see much more than when I take the same route on a faster vehicle, whether motored or not. I ride my motorcycle to work lots of days so I am used to being exposed to the weather, but dropping my speed that much completely changes the experience.
I picked a cool, but dry, day to start my bike commuting, but once I get in the swing of things, it is easier to expand the idea of day that works for cycling. I am not a hard-core, every day commuter, but there are years when I ride enough to feel like I can legitimately stake a claim to the title and today was a reminder of why.
One equipment note. I have commuted to work on race bikes with a messenger bag or a backpack on my back; I have commuted on my mountain bike the same way; I have modified a steel frame bike to include cyclocross tires, fenders and lights for early/late season rides that works great for commuting; and today I took my 20 year old mountain bike on which I had added a rack and panniers. The point? If you have two wheels, you can make it work. Don't let the "right" equipment or a dedicated ride hold you back from slinging a leg over the frame and getting yourself to work.
Lastly, the best thing about riding to work? For me, it is riding home. It causes me to be more mindful of when I need to leave work and I try to take a longer, harder loop home. Getting home with a bit of a cycling work-out already done is the best way to sit down to dinner. I'm looking forward to it already.
Rider Three
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Shop Ride - Thursday, May 6
Here is a short version of the Shop Ride Reminder:
The ride will be Thursday, May 6, 5.30 pm. We will start at Two Wheel Transit - 1419 W. First Avenue. The route will probably involve a ride to the Seven Mile Bridge along the Aubrey L. White Parkway and then a decision about heading back along the other side of the river or going to Nine Mile. The distance will be around 20 miles. The pace will be reasonable and no-drop. This is an open road, group ride, so you are responsible for yourself and your own safety.
Here is the rambling that goes with any Rider Three approved blog post:
During our ride, Rider One will be offering his rolling coaching and fitting clinic, so feel free to ask him any technical questions about riding, racing or equipment. His nickname is Mr. Millimeter, so you know he is good. (An aside - Two Wheel Transit offers "actual" fittings - not to be confused by Mr. Millimeter's random but wise comments.) Rider Two is known to tell a story or two, so feel free to ask him about the Mother's Day Massacre just before we head up any climb that looks daunting. Like a ventriloquist that drinks water and talks, he will climb and tell you long stories; two things that seem impossible to put together. I, Rider Three, have no riding traits that I possess sufficient self-awareness to be able to describe, but I'm sure that Rider One and Two will be able to help you out with that as well.
Lastly, there is a rumor of post-ride nourishment afterwards back at the shop, so don't tell that guy you don't want to see in the buffet line ahead of you (maybe that is my cycling proclivity) because there won't be anything left, but do plan to come ride with us and have a slice of nourishment before heading home.
Should be fun.
Rider Three
The ride will be Thursday, May 6, 5.30 pm. We will start at Two Wheel Transit - 1419 W. First Avenue. The route will probably involve a ride to the Seven Mile Bridge along the Aubrey L. White Parkway and then a decision about heading back along the other side of the river or going to Nine Mile. The distance will be around 20 miles. The pace will be reasonable and no-drop. This is an open road, group ride, so you are responsible for yourself and your own safety.
Here is the rambling that goes with any Rider Three approved blog post:
During our ride, Rider One will be offering his rolling coaching and fitting clinic, so feel free to ask him any technical questions about riding, racing or equipment. His nickname is Mr. Millimeter, so you know he is good. (An aside - Two Wheel Transit offers "actual" fittings - not to be confused by Mr. Millimeter's random but wise comments.) Rider Two is known to tell a story or two, so feel free to ask him about the Mother's Day Massacre just before we head up any climb that looks daunting. Like a ventriloquist that drinks water and talks, he will climb and tell you long stories; two things that seem impossible to put together. I, Rider Three, have no riding traits that I possess sufficient self-awareness to be able to describe, but I'm sure that Rider One and Two will be able to help you out with that as well.
Lastly, there is a rumor of post-ride nourishment afterwards back at the shop, so don't tell that guy you don't want to see in the buffet line ahead of you (maybe that is my cycling proclivity) because there won't be anything left, but do plan to come ride with us and have a slice of nourishment before heading home.
Should be fun.
Rider Three
Weekend Ride Report
I rode my bike this weekend. That makes it different than last weekend. I already told my wife all about the rides and probably most of the people who care very much were actually ON the rides, but I still want to share a couple of highlights from my rides this weekend.
Saturday - Mountain bike ride. Bad weather, great ride.
To elaborate, I met Rider One, Jake B. and Jon H. for a two hour plus mountain bike ride that crossed the south hill bluff, crossed Hatch and H-195, went up a trail that I did not know existed past White Road and then was aborted, for me and Rider One, so that we missed the Fish Lake and back up the South Hill portion of the ride. This was my first semi-serious mountain bike ride of the year and the guys I was following, and I was most certainly following them the whole time, are serious riders. Jake is strong like an ox and handles a mountain bike like it is an extension of himself. Rider One is so fluid on a mountain bike it makes me want to stop riding them altogether because I have never for one moment been that graceful on one. I don't have much experience riding with JH and there were precious few moments when I had enough oxygen pick-up to be very discerning about his riding; I just know he was in front of me on a single-speed and I was working all my gears hard to keep him in my sights.
With Jake leading on a route that he and Jon have done many times, they lead me down a few things that I had never ridden on the bluff, including one section that was as steep and twisty as anything I have ridden. I did chicken out on one long, very straight, very steep trail section, choosing instead to run my bike down. In hindsight this was a bit silly since the corkscrew was more technical and really all I had to do was ride my rear brake down the hill, but the fully exposed length gave me pause.
I should also disclose that I am 1-for-1 on my mountain bike ride to bike crash ratio. I managed to plant my pedal firmly and solidly against a rock causing the bike to come to a full, 100% immediate stop. Guess what happened next? Yes, good guess. A body in motion will continue in motion until acted upon by outside forces and all. In this case that force was gravity that brought me in contact with the ground a few feet in front of my bike. Fun stuff. And also fun was the fact that less than 100 yards from my fall was a section of trail that was literally the 12" along a rock bluff with a 15-30' drop. Have you ever had a fall shake your confidence on a bike? Me too.
All in all, though, it makes me want to ride my mountain bike more and soon. I will also let you in on a little secret. I am hoping to be riding a new mountain bike soon. I won't tell you what, but I will give you a hint: 21" Gary Fisher Superfly. And no, I don't deserve it, but I still hope it works out.
Sunday - Road Ride. Decent weather, awesome ride.
To elaborate, I joined Rider One and six other MR riders for a windy three-hour ride. We left the Rocket on 14th, rode up the Fish Lake Trail (both sections), along Salnave to Clear Lake, then Medical Lake, Four Corners and home along Westbow and Thorpe. To put it in terms that the eight of us who were there will recognize better: Head wind, head wind, head wind, cross wind, head wind, cross wind, head wind, head wind, cross wind, head wind, OMG a glorious tail wind!, cross wind, tail wind, cross wind, tail wind, tail wind, tail wind, tail wind, tail wind, fish ladder home. I personally skipped the fish ladder for a more direct route home, but the rest of the description is accurate.
The head wind wasn't too bad on the Fish Lake trail because it is a bit protected. We rode in a double pace line with everyone taking pulls and riding a moderate pace. The Salnave section was tough. It was very, very windy, but after we crossed I-90 and turned right towards Clear Lake we were suddenly very happy with that wind that we had been cursing in the prior miles. The trip back was fast and it felt great. At one point Rider One and I were in front of the double paceline talking about those glorious moments when riding feels tiring but great, hard but wonderful, and the speed seems to be leaping out of your legs. Sure it was the tailwind, but it was great. We may have gotten a bit silly along Westbow (okay, sure I may have contributed to it), but it is rare that a group of riders in our age group gets to wind it up that fast and spin out our biggest gears and have it feel that good. A fun day.
Sunday - Mountain bike ride. Decent weather, great ride.
Hey, wait a minute. Didn't you just describe an exhausting three hour ride from Sunday? Why yes, I did. After I got home I told my wife that my road ride was one of those days where the ride lasted just exactly the distance I had the strength to ride. Another three miles and I would have been dropped by the group so hard and fast you would think we had been going uphill. In other words, I was completely, totally, 100% spent.
Just a few minutes after describing this to my wife, my 12-year old asked me if I would go on a mountain bike ride with him. I am truly fortunate to have two great kids and I don't have enough chances to ride with them, so on a very, very rare weekend when I didn't have work or chores demanding my time, I didn't feel right turning him down, so I changed my clothes and headed out on my mountain bike for another ride. We had a fun ride (at a pace more suitable to my condition than following Jake) and one particularly note-worthy moment. My son had ridden up the long climb from our house towards the Highlands without stopping, which is a sometimes yes, sometimes not thing. A while later, we had a 100-200 meter pitch that was fairly steep. As we approached it, I said, "just ride up what you can", hoping to encourage him to give it a shot but also "knowing" that it was a bit too long and steep for him to make it. It was one of the few times I was in front that day so I started up the hill pondering where I should stop to help out my son. I decided to ride to the top, stop and walk back to push his bike or offer some encouragement. As I slowed at the top I looked over my shoulder and to my surprise, he was right on my tail. He had cleared the length of it and I needed to keep moving to not block his way. Now, I love my son regardless of whether he rides a bike or how he goes about it, but it was one of those moments that forces you to pause and reconsider what you think your kids are capable of doing. They keep growing, changing and amazing me.
To sum it up: Weekend Riding - variable weather and multiple reminders of why I like riding bikes so much.
Saturday - Mountain bike ride. Bad weather, great ride.
To elaborate, I met Rider One, Jake B. and Jon H. for a two hour plus mountain bike ride that crossed the south hill bluff, crossed Hatch and H-195, went up a trail that I did not know existed past White Road and then was aborted, for me and Rider One, so that we missed the Fish Lake and back up the South Hill portion of the ride. This was my first semi-serious mountain bike ride of the year and the guys I was following, and I was most certainly following them the whole time, are serious riders. Jake is strong like an ox and handles a mountain bike like it is an extension of himself. Rider One is so fluid on a mountain bike it makes me want to stop riding them altogether because I have never for one moment been that graceful on one. I don't have much experience riding with JH and there were precious few moments when I had enough oxygen pick-up to be very discerning about his riding; I just know he was in front of me on a single-speed and I was working all my gears hard to keep him in my sights.
With Jake leading on a route that he and Jon have done many times, they lead me down a few things that I had never ridden on the bluff, including one section that was as steep and twisty as anything I have ridden. I did chicken out on one long, very straight, very steep trail section, choosing instead to run my bike down. In hindsight this was a bit silly since the corkscrew was more technical and really all I had to do was ride my rear brake down the hill, but the fully exposed length gave me pause.
I should also disclose that I am 1-for-1 on my mountain bike ride to bike crash ratio. I managed to plant my pedal firmly and solidly against a rock causing the bike to come to a full, 100% immediate stop. Guess what happened next? Yes, good guess. A body in motion will continue in motion until acted upon by outside forces and all. In this case that force was gravity that brought me in contact with the ground a few feet in front of my bike. Fun stuff. And also fun was the fact that less than 100 yards from my fall was a section of trail that was literally the 12" along a rock bluff with a 15-30' drop. Have you ever had a fall shake your confidence on a bike? Me too.
All in all, though, it makes me want to ride my mountain bike more and soon. I will also let you in on a little secret. I am hoping to be riding a new mountain bike soon. I won't tell you what, but I will give you a hint: 21" Gary Fisher Superfly. And no, I don't deserve it, but I still hope it works out.
Sunday - Road Ride. Decent weather, awesome ride.
To elaborate, I joined Rider One and six other MR riders for a windy three-hour ride. We left the Rocket on 14th, rode up the Fish Lake Trail (both sections), along Salnave to Clear Lake, then Medical Lake, Four Corners and home along Westbow and Thorpe. To put it in terms that the eight of us who were there will recognize better: Head wind, head wind, head wind, cross wind, head wind, cross wind, head wind, head wind, cross wind, head wind, OMG a glorious tail wind!, cross wind, tail wind, cross wind, tail wind, tail wind, tail wind, tail wind, tail wind, fish ladder home. I personally skipped the fish ladder for a more direct route home, but the rest of the description is accurate.
The head wind wasn't too bad on the Fish Lake trail because it is a bit protected. We rode in a double pace line with everyone taking pulls and riding a moderate pace. The Salnave section was tough. It was very, very windy, but after we crossed I-90 and turned right towards Clear Lake we were suddenly very happy with that wind that we had been cursing in the prior miles. The trip back was fast and it felt great. At one point Rider One and I were in front of the double paceline talking about those glorious moments when riding feels tiring but great, hard but wonderful, and the speed seems to be leaping out of your legs. Sure it was the tailwind, but it was great. We may have gotten a bit silly along Westbow (okay, sure I may have contributed to it), but it is rare that a group of riders in our age group gets to wind it up that fast and spin out our biggest gears and have it feel that good. A fun day.
Sunday - Mountain bike ride. Decent weather, great ride.
Hey, wait a minute. Didn't you just describe an exhausting three hour ride from Sunday? Why yes, I did. After I got home I told my wife that my road ride was one of those days where the ride lasted just exactly the distance I had the strength to ride. Another three miles and I would have been dropped by the group so hard and fast you would think we had been going uphill. In other words, I was completely, totally, 100% spent.
Just a few minutes after describing this to my wife, my 12-year old asked me if I would go on a mountain bike ride with him. I am truly fortunate to have two great kids and I don't have enough chances to ride with them, so on a very, very rare weekend when I didn't have work or chores demanding my time, I didn't feel right turning him down, so I changed my clothes and headed out on my mountain bike for another ride. We had a fun ride (at a pace more suitable to my condition than following Jake) and one particularly note-worthy moment. My son had ridden up the long climb from our house towards the Highlands without stopping, which is a sometimes yes, sometimes not thing. A while later, we had a 100-200 meter pitch that was fairly steep. As we approached it, I said, "just ride up what you can", hoping to encourage him to give it a shot but also "knowing" that it was a bit too long and steep for him to make it. It was one of the few times I was in front that day so I started up the hill pondering where I should stop to help out my son. I decided to ride to the top, stop and walk back to push his bike or offer some encouragement. As I slowed at the top I looked over my shoulder and to my surprise, he was right on my tail. He had cleared the length of it and I needed to keep moving to not block his way. Now, I love my son regardless of whether he rides a bike or how he goes about it, but it was one of those moments that forces you to pause and reconsider what you think your kids are capable of doing. They keep growing, changing and amazing me.
To sum it up: Weekend Riding - variable weather and multiple reminders of why I like riding bikes so much.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Shop Ride - Thursday, May 6
If you check your calendars you will discover that this coming Thursday is the first Thursday of the month and you know what that means, right? It means it is time for the monthly Team Two Wheel / Two Wheel Transit Shop Ride!
While the weather outside today is ghastly, the weather on Thursday afternoon/early evening is supposed to be much, much better. And by better I mean that my toupee is very likely going to stay on my head, unlike on my walk to lunch. Toupee?, you say. Yes, well most of you see me either wearing a helmet or wearing some headcover under my helmet, which headcover is there to either to preserve warmth or to prevent sunburn, depending on the time of year. At work, however, I wear a toupee so I maintain that youthful and gregarious look that is really the basis for my success. Just check with Tom W. or Death of a Salesman; they both make it clear that good hair and a winning personality are the building blocks for any successful male. I suppose females too, but I have less experience being a successful female, so I will decline to opine further. In any case, the point is, the weather should be nice.
Here are the details: Thursday, May 6, 5.30 pm - Start: Two Wheel Transit - 1419 W. First Avenue.
Route - Slightly unknown, but very likely to include Riverside Avenue, Government Way, Aubrey L. White Parkway and then . . . I don't know whether we will loop back after the Seven Mile Bridge or continue to Nine Mile. I also don't know whether the road is open past the waste-water-sewage treatment plant, but that will probably impact our travel plans. In either case, we will ride about twenty miles and get back to Two Wheel sometime around 7.00 pm.
Pace - Full-on Race Pace. I kid. This will be a casual pace and no-drop ride. We will be doing something like a racer recovery pace, recreational cyclist reasonable group ride pace. It isn't a ride for someone buying their first-ever bicycle that day, but you are free to join us if you have been cycling on your own and would like to try out riding with a group.
Fees and Responsibility - None. Seriously. There is no sign-up, no fee, no waiver and no responsibility. As in, neither Team Two Wheel nor Two Wheel Transit are responsible for accidents, injuries, death or maiming, but we will help with flat tires. It is an open road ride, which includes all the joy and burden of riding along with motorized vehicles and other riders and non-riders.
Fun - Yes, we will have some. We'll be riding bikes, right?
You - Be there.
Oh, and just to repeat this important note, the ride is Thursday at 5.30 pm. PM in this case standing for Post-Meridian, as in "after the sun has reached its mid-point for the day", as in "after work", as in "not while it is still dark and most of humanity is still in bed". Just wanted to be clear because we are hoping S.J. can join us at the right time this month.
While the weather outside today is ghastly, the weather on Thursday afternoon/early evening is supposed to be much, much better. And by better I mean that my toupee is very likely going to stay on my head, unlike on my walk to lunch. Toupee?, you say. Yes, well most of you see me either wearing a helmet or wearing some headcover under my helmet, which headcover is there to either to preserve warmth or to prevent sunburn, depending on the time of year. At work, however, I wear a toupee so I maintain that youthful and gregarious look that is really the basis for my success. Just check with Tom W. or Death of a Salesman; they both make it clear that good hair and a winning personality are the building blocks for any successful male. I suppose females too, but I have less experience being a successful female, so I will decline to opine further. In any case, the point is, the weather should be nice.
Here are the details: Thursday, May 6, 5.30 pm - Start: Two Wheel Transit - 1419 W. First Avenue.
Route - Slightly unknown, but very likely to include Riverside Avenue, Government Way, Aubrey L. White Parkway and then . . . I don't know whether we will loop back after the Seven Mile Bridge or continue to Nine Mile. I also don't know whether the road is open past the waste-water-sewage treatment plant, but that will probably impact our travel plans. In either case, we will ride about twenty miles and get back to Two Wheel sometime around 7.00 pm.
Pace - Full-on Race Pace. I kid. This will be a casual pace and no-drop ride. We will be doing something like a racer recovery pace, recreational cyclist reasonable group ride pace. It isn't a ride for someone buying their first-ever bicycle that day, but you are free to join us if you have been cycling on your own and would like to try out riding with a group.
Fees and Responsibility - None. Seriously. There is no sign-up, no fee, no waiver and no responsibility. As in, neither Team Two Wheel nor Two Wheel Transit are responsible for accidents, injuries, death or maiming, but we will help with flat tires. It is an open road ride, which includes all the joy and burden of riding along with motorized vehicles and other riders and non-riders.
Fun - Yes, we will have some. We'll be riding bikes, right?
You - Be there.
Oh, and just to repeat this important note, the ride is Thursday at 5.30 pm. PM in this case standing for Post-Meridian, as in "after the sun has reached its mid-point for the day", as in "after work", as in "not while it is still dark and most of humanity is still in bed". Just wanted to be clear because we are hoping S.J. can join us at the right time this month.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Shallow thoughts
What have I become?
When I moved to Spokane--and this was more than a decade ago--my outlook on riding and bike equipment was a far cry from where I am today.
This difference, highlighted mostly by being pragmatic to a fault, was likely rooted in spending so many years around bike racers that could ride faster than most of us could imagine. My reality was that I had seen more races lost by using fancy equipment than races won because of it. I had heard riders complain incessantly about shorts, saddles, shoes and handlebars--generally the limiting factors to being comfortable on a bike. Yes, pro riders had preferences when it came to Shimano vs. Campy, but really, no one really gave a rip as long as the mechanic did a good job tuning their bikes.
Alas, things have changed. Maybe it's Rider 3's fault. I'll say it--he loves nice gear. And this is a good thing. Or maybe it's my own journey towards chamois-snifferdom. I appreciate nice gear too.
I think the turning point for me was my birthday two years ago. My wife bought me a Rapha jersey, complete with pink accents and contrasting armwarmers. Rapha--it of the clearly articulated branding, a drool-worthy tagline (glory through suffering) and outrageous prices. It was a perfect gift in some ways. In a million years I wouldn't have spent this kind of ching on so much bling, even if it is understated bling.
But holy crap, I love the jersey. It's one of the best fabricated pieces of clothing I own, riding clothing or otherwise.
So, in this spirit, today I've dropped in a few images of stuff I'd love to have in my garage. Do I need these? Not in most cases. Do I think they'd be fun to have? Undoubtedly. Go ahead and mock. I may in fact have become "that guy," but frankly don't really mind.
Monday, April 26, 2010
New Wheels
This blog covers a wide variety of topics, ranging from bicycling to cycling and everything in between. Sure, sometimes we get off topic a bit, but it all relates to cycling in some way, at least in my Joycean stream of consciousness way. One thing we don't do, however, is serve as a direct advertisement for our primary sponsor Two Wheel Transit. We don't pitch the specials of the day or go too over the top. Our readers know that we look to Two Wheel for all of our two wheel needs and we are glad to talk about the stuff we ride and race, but no one wants to tune in for a straight-off commercial endorsement. Instead, you would rather hear about Dr. Spalm's latest advice, right? Speaking of which, Dr. Spalm was forced to leave the country under a dispute over his immigration status and his purported marriage to an American citizen, but we hope he will be back at the typewriter soon. So, what is the point to this overly long introductory paragraph? The point is that we don't shill for Two Wheel, but that doesn't mean that they don't deserve their props and today they deserve props.
Last week I busted a spoke out of a Campy Neutron wheel. I have had the wheel for a number of years, first as my primary wheelset, then as a back-up set, and for the last few years as the primary wheelset on my rainy season-commuter bike. In other words, I got lots of life out of the wheelset, but I was surprised that the busted spoke revealed a wheel so torqued that it couldn't be brought back into round. Willy did, in fact, replace the spoke and get it round again, but it was at such a high tension that he thought the wheel was toast, which was born out while it was still in the wheel stand. The spoke popped at high velocity before it came out of the truing stand and the rim is now destined for the rubbish bin.
No problem, though, right? I have other wheels. So, I decided I would put my Bontrager hoops on that bike and suit up my Trek with my racing Zipps for a bit while I decided what to do. Great idea except that the Bontrager rear wheel had a warranty replaceable crack in the rim. Hmm. Now I was down two rear wheels in two days and running low on options.
Up until now, Two Wheel was just doing their normal amount of good service. They were trying to get me on the road quickly again and then they took care of the warranty issue promptly. The superior service kicked in when I decided, with my wife's kind insistence (or acquiescence - is there a difference?), that I get a set of heavier-duty wheels that would be suitable for this bike and serve as a relatively bomb-proof set for things like Ronde Von Palouse.
At that point, the world became confusing. Not only are there lots and lots of factory-made options, there is an even larger group of choices for a set of hand-made wheels. Then it isn't just picking a set of wheels, but picking a rim, hub, number of spokes, etc. It turns out that I just wasn't equipped to make the call on this decision without a lot of input. I needed the advice and input of every person who happened to walk by while I was in Two Wheel Transit, I needed hours of internet research, I needed multiple e-mails and conversations with Rider One, and then I needed more conversations with the guys at Two Wheel. Dave and Willy both offered opinions and input on multiple choices and options. And finally, today, Geoff, Willy and Dave tracked down more answers and more options.
I will share a smidgen of what I explored. I was interested in or looked dozens of options, but the narrowed field included Mavic Open rims or wheels, Hed Kermesses, DT Swiss wheels (in part because I had focused on their hubs), a collection of Velocity rims narrowed down to Aerohead/Aerohead OC or Synergy/Synergy OC, and Bontrager Classic wheels. I was sorely tempted by the handmade wheels using Velocity rims, DT Swiss hubs and made by Willy, but I decided that the lower price point and excellent warranty of the Bontrager Classic wheels made the most sense. These aren't wheels that are going to set any pulses racing, but they should be stiff, sturdy and abuse-resistant. I should get many miles out them problem-free and they are backed by a great warranty if I do have problems.
The thing, though, that stands out for me is the way that the guys at Two Wheel patiently answered all my questions and repeatedly offered their years of experience in giving their opinions (including years of making wheels, not to mention repairing them). If all purchases took this much time and resulted in this little exchange of cash, they wouldn't be in good shape, which ultimately is the test of their customer service approach. They knew this wasn't a transaction they were going to make much money on, but you could never tell that from their patience and detail in helping me make this decision. I genuinely appreciated their assistance and am looking forward to the new wheel and I appreciate knowing that whatever comes along, Two Wheel Transit is going to do whatever they can to help out and keep me on the road. It's a good feeling.
Thanks to Geoff and Tomas and particularly to Dave and Willy.
Last week I busted a spoke out of a Campy Neutron wheel. I have had the wheel for a number of years, first as my primary wheelset, then as a back-up set, and for the last few years as the primary wheelset on my rainy season-commuter bike. In other words, I got lots of life out of the wheelset, but I was surprised that the busted spoke revealed a wheel so torqued that it couldn't be brought back into round. Willy did, in fact, replace the spoke and get it round again, but it was at such a high tension that he thought the wheel was toast, which was born out while it was still in the wheel stand. The spoke popped at high velocity before it came out of the truing stand and the rim is now destined for the rubbish bin.
No problem, though, right? I have other wheels. So, I decided I would put my Bontrager hoops on that bike and suit up my Trek with my racing Zipps for a bit while I decided what to do. Great idea except that the Bontrager rear wheel had a warranty replaceable crack in the rim. Hmm. Now I was down two rear wheels in two days and running low on options.
Up until now, Two Wheel was just doing their normal amount of good service. They were trying to get me on the road quickly again and then they took care of the warranty issue promptly. The superior service kicked in when I decided, with my wife's kind insistence (or acquiescence - is there a difference?), that I get a set of heavier-duty wheels that would be suitable for this bike and serve as a relatively bomb-proof set for things like Ronde Von Palouse.
At that point, the world became confusing. Not only are there lots and lots of factory-made options, there is an even larger group of choices for a set of hand-made wheels. Then it isn't just picking a set of wheels, but picking a rim, hub, number of spokes, etc. It turns out that I just wasn't equipped to make the call on this decision without a lot of input. I needed the advice and input of every person who happened to walk by while I was in Two Wheel Transit, I needed hours of internet research, I needed multiple e-mails and conversations with Rider One, and then I needed more conversations with the guys at Two Wheel. Dave and Willy both offered opinions and input on multiple choices and options. And finally, today, Geoff, Willy and Dave tracked down more answers and more options.
I will share a smidgen of what I explored. I was interested in or looked dozens of options, but the narrowed field included Mavic Open rims or wheels, Hed Kermesses, DT Swiss wheels (in part because I had focused on their hubs), a collection of Velocity rims narrowed down to Aerohead/Aerohead OC or Synergy/Synergy OC, and Bontrager Classic wheels. I was sorely tempted by the handmade wheels using Velocity rims, DT Swiss hubs and made by Willy, but I decided that the lower price point and excellent warranty of the Bontrager Classic wheels made the most sense. These aren't wheels that are going to set any pulses racing, but they should be stiff, sturdy and abuse-resistant. I should get many miles out them problem-free and they are backed by a great warranty if I do have problems.
The thing, though, that stands out for me is the way that the guys at Two Wheel patiently answered all my questions and repeatedly offered their years of experience in giving their opinions (including years of making wheels, not to mention repairing them). If all purchases took this much time and resulted in this little exchange of cash, they wouldn't be in good shape, which ultimately is the test of their customer service approach. They knew this wasn't a transaction they were going to make much money on, but you could never tell that from their patience and detail in helping me make this decision. I genuinely appreciated their assistance and am looking forward to the new wheel and I appreciate knowing that whatever comes along, Two Wheel Transit is going to do whatever they can to help out and keep me on the road. It's a good feeling.
Thanks to Geoff and Tomas and particularly to Dave and Willy.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Oh to be 25 again.
Ahh. 25. Such a good time.
No, I'm not reminiscing about being 25 years old, although that was fun too. Instead, I'll share some thoughts about something I think more riders should tap into.
Back in the day, as in the day that I treated bikes like tools (cool tools!), when getting a flat on a group ride meant, more than likely, a solo ride, and I lived in Colorado where roads were covered in gravel, thorns, sand, etc., I trained exclusively on 28c tires. With steel beads. And Mr. Tuffy tire liners.
I hated getting flats. Plus, on chip sealed, cracked, mountain roads, they were simply a better tire. Those 28c Contis were cheap, handled really well and were fantastically more comfortable. Trust me on this, a couple of extra millimeters of tire width makes a huge difference.
Somewhere between then and now I changed my stand. Maybe it was getting older. Maybe it was riding less and finding myself struggling to keep up on certain climbs. Maybe it was convenience or the fact that I'm at a place in my life where buying an extra tire doesn't mean I can't make rent. Maybe all of these things. In any case, I've been riding 23c tires for years now and have been fine with it.
Until last weekend.
Ahead of that evil thing known as the Ronde van Palouse, I decided to slap on a set of 25c tires. In general, the slightly wider tires mean a bit more sidewall flex, which means fewer flat tires. A broader contact patch also means better handling and traction on dirt roads and washboard. In the race the tires were great. The bike was great. My body? Not so great. Let's put it nicely and say that my bike isn't what held me back.
As an aside, I think others in the race should have followed my equipment choice lead. The number of flats in the first gravel section were quite amazing.
OK, flash forward a couple of days and I was late (as usual) to get out for a ride, scrambling for daylight. So I tore off the weekend's race number and left for an hour of power. Climbing up the South Hill I was amazed at how good the bike felt. Comfortable. Stiff at the bottom bracket, yet vertically compliant! The marketing messages were all suddenly true!
In fact what happened is in my rush to get out the door, I hadn't switched the wheels on my bike. Which meant I was still running the fat rubber. And I'm not going back.
Seriously, you need to try this. Running 25c tires is entirely worth the non-penalty. Here's the math. The 25c tires I'm using (Continental GP4000) are a whopping ten grams heavier than their 23c counterparts. Ten grams. To put that into context, pick up six or seven paper clips. There's your ten grams.
But, you might argue, they're slower because of the added rolling resistance. No, actually they're not, at least not according to the pencil-pushers that examine stuff like this. This aligns with my own sense of things as well.
Handling? Again, just my opinion, but noticeably better when cornering, on dirt roads, etc.
Comfort? This to me is the biggest win. So, so much better, especially on chip seal where there's high-frequency vibration, and on the cracks and ruts that define a lot of the riding in our region.
Finally, flat resistance. I don't like flats, but based on what I see on most weekend rides I frequent, I might be alone in this. I can just about guarantee that you'll get fewer flats with a wider tire. Why? Because you can run slightly higher pressure while also getting the benefits of more comfort and better handling. Also, the tire's casing flexes a bit more, allowing the tire to deform around sharp stones and such, vs. being punctured by them. This is a good thing.
So, my advice is to give fatter rubber a try. You'll be just as fast, get fewer flats and will be more comfortable. Most riders I know run through at least a couple of sets of training tires a year. Next time, test something new.
The good news is there is better availability than ever for wider, high-performance tires. In fact Bontrager just came out with a new tire I'd like to try when the Contis I'm running now wear out. The gang at Two Wheel Transit will, I'm sure, be happy to tell you all about them.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Mind the Gap
As much money as I earn as the primary blogger of Team Two Wheel and in my post as Ambassador to Two Wheel Transit, I have decided to continue working in my "regular" job. Think of it like the janitorial engineer who wins the Powerball-Mega-Sweepstakes-Winathon and still decides to show up for his regular job of scraping up gum, emptying trash cans and cleaning up the urine where guys misfire. I'm kind of like that guy.
Why should you care? You shouldn't. But the last couple of weeks and until the end of the month, I have extra gum, trash and urine to deal with, so it has and will limit my attention to this beloved blog. Rumor has it that Rider One might contribute and we might vote as a team (we are a democracy; we tried being an oligarchy and I really wanted to set up a theocracy, but in the end we agreed to be a democracy) to make Rider Two do something other than show up in those videos wearing an outhouse on his head. Just because those two ride bikes fast and strong doesn't mean they shouldn't pull part of the load here, right?
Anyway, I digress. Again.
Cyclists, I suppose like every group, hobby, sport, avocation or oligarchy, has its own lingo and catch phrases. I read one last night, reading, as I often do, anything related to cycling as I drift off to sleep (then wake up, get off the couch, throw away the beer bottles strewn about the floor and then go to bed), which reminded me of my ride yesterday and today. That phrase, as you may have guessed, is "Mind the gap".
This is not actually anything you hear said very often, because having someone say it to you is a) a bit insulting usually and b) something screaming in your head if you have any pack sense. For the uninitiated, this phrase is used when a pack is rolling along and a "gap" begins to open from one rider or part of the group to the next rider or part of a group. Yesterday I saw a gap open just as I was rolling along mostly in a 2x2 line because two guys were having a conversation and their attention drifted for a moment. That kind of gap is usually "minded" quickly because when the guys notice the gap opening one or the other will bear down and catch up, not wanting to split the pack.
The difficult situation is in a race when the gap opens, not because of a moment of inattention, but because a rider is at his limit and can't keep up anymore. The hesitancy is always to figure out which is going on, because racers don't want to waste the energy of going around, in the wind, and closing the gap if the person in front will step on it and close the gap for you. The downside to waiting, and it is more of a danger the faster the gap opens or the windier it is, is that the gap will open up enough that you can't catch back up to the group in front.
In big races this is known as "making the selection", since some riders will keep up and will be in the hunt for the podium places later, while others will drop off and will have to wait to fight another day. In a group ride this process is much more fluid, friendly and less fraught with consequences. Today, for instance, I managed to make up a 10 minute gap on a group ride just because the pack up front slowed down dramatically. How did I end up with a 10 minute gap? A flat, a wheel change, waiting for someone else? No. Frankly, is it any of your business? Did I mention that I am an "Ambassador" and not a racer?
Anyway, when you are riding, Mind the Gap.
Also, I wanted the Spokane cycling community to know that Dee has not given up riding, as we have all suspected for so many months and maybe years.
Why should you care? You shouldn't. But the last couple of weeks and until the end of the month, I have extra gum, trash and urine to deal with, so it has and will limit my attention to this beloved blog. Rumor has it that Rider One might contribute and we might vote as a team (we are a democracy; we tried being an oligarchy and I really wanted to set up a theocracy, but in the end we agreed to be a democracy) to make Rider Two do something other than show up in those videos wearing an outhouse on his head. Just because those two ride bikes fast and strong doesn't mean they shouldn't pull part of the load here, right?
Anyway, I digress. Again.
Cyclists, I suppose like every group, hobby, sport, avocation or oligarchy, has its own lingo and catch phrases. I read one last night, reading, as I often do, anything related to cycling as I drift off to sleep (then wake up, get off the couch, throw away the beer bottles strewn about the floor and then go to bed), which reminded me of my ride yesterday and today. That phrase, as you may have guessed, is "Mind the gap".
This is not actually anything you hear said very often, because having someone say it to you is a) a bit insulting usually and b) something screaming in your head if you have any pack sense. For the uninitiated, this phrase is used when a pack is rolling along and a "gap" begins to open from one rider or part of the group to the next rider or part of a group. Yesterday I saw a gap open just as I was rolling along mostly in a 2x2 line because two guys were having a conversation and their attention drifted for a moment. That kind of gap is usually "minded" quickly because when the guys notice the gap opening one or the other will bear down and catch up, not wanting to split the pack.
The difficult situation is in a race when the gap opens, not because of a moment of inattention, but because a rider is at his limit and can't keep up anymore. The hesitancy is always to figure out which is going on, because racers don't want to waste the energy of going around, in the wind, and closing the gap if the person in front will step on it and close the gap for you. The downside to waiting, and it is more of a danger the faster the gap opens or the windier it is, is that the gap will open up enough that you can't catch back up to the group in front.
In big races this is known as "making the selection", since some riders will keep up and will be in the hunt for the podium places later, while others will drop off and will have to wait to fight another day. In a group ride this process is much more fluid, friendly and less fraught with consequences. Today, for instance, I managed to make up a 10 minute gap on a group ride just because the pack up front slowed down dramatically. How did I end up with a 10 minute gap? A flat, a wheel change, waiting for someone else? No. Frankly, is it any of your business? Did I mention that I am an "Ambassador" and not a racer?
Anyway, when you are riding, Mind the Gap.
Also, I wanted the Spokane cycling community to know that Dee has not given up riding, as we have all suspected for so many months and maybe years.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Ronde von Palouse
Here are some pictures of the Ronde von Palouse that I think help capture the flavor of this very tough and very cool bike race. They aren't in chronological order and I don't know lots of these folks, but I hope you enjoy the pics. Click on them to see a larger version.
Michael Emde chasing back after a flat and another rider waiting for a wheel on top of that rise.
Rider 1 spun out in the soft gravel and lost a lot of ground in a few moments of trying to stay upright and get going in the right direction.
Love that smile. Can you tell he is hurting?
Race organizer, Mike Sirott, jumping out to offer yet another wheel change. Way to go Rocket Velo!
The essence of the dirt portion. Riders strung out all over hell and gone.
Team Elephant - Representing Spokane's Only Local Bike Manufacturer. How cool is that?
You can't see it, but it is windy. Very windy.
You can't see it, but Rider 1 is blazing. Very blazing.
This was a very cool race and once again, thanks to Mike Sirott and the whole crew at Rocket Velo for organizing this race. Thanks, as usual, to Baddlands for racing the prior week. We now return to our normally scheduled programming.
 |
| From Rides |
Michael Emde chasing back after a flat and another rider waiting for a wheel on top of that rise.
 |
| From Rides |
 |
| From Rides |
 |
| From Rides |
 |
| From Rides |
 |
| From Rides |
 |
| From Rides |
 |
| From Rides |
This was a very cool race and once again, thanks to Mike Sirott and the whole crew at Rocket Velo for organizing this race. Thanks, as usual, to Baddlands for racing the prior week. We now return to our normally scheduled programming.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Tuesday Night Racing Update
For you boy- and/or girl-racers out there, you'll need to wait one more week to toe the line at Spokane's weekly Tuesday night world championships.
There's more info at the Baddlands web site, but sounds like the county couldn't get the paperwork sorted in time for us to go flog ourselves. I trust that flogging will begin next week in earnest though.
Craving more details? Start here: www.baddlands.org.
Weekend Wrap-up
Here is a lightening quick wrap up of a bike cycling weekend.
Ronde von Palouse - This was an awesome and brutally tough race. I just didn't have the legs or mindset for riding and after watching the race, I was really glad I left it to tougher men and women. Most races have a pack that will stick together for a large part of the race, and often for the whole race. Ronde von Palouse was a race that blew apart every pack very early on and left each group scattered literally across numerous miles. The dirt portion was "only" four miles, but those miles got very, very long when you were riding them. I saw more flats than I have ever seen in a race and packs more broken apart than I have ever seen. My guess is that next year more people will be sporting wider tires and a few more tubulars.
I took a lot of pictures and will get them posted later this week. Team Two Wheel didn't have great results: one mechanical, one mental and one drop-out.
Paris-Roubaix - There was a good turn-out at the Steam Plant Grill for the coverage of Paris-Roubaix, but I discovered a problem. I think that I take bicycle racing a bit too seriously. I was gratified to have two guys near me that take it more seriously than I do, so that it was appropriately enabling, but I realized that I really like absorbing races like these in a much more controlled environment. One where I can hear everything, run the DVR back occasionally (and skip commercials), and give over fully to my bike geek side. At the Steam Plant there were numerous distractions, people to talk to and more people that I should have talked to, but it was hard because I just wanted to be staring slack-jawed at the race.
The race, by the way, was not a typical P-R. No bad weather, no inopportune crashes or wheels broken for the leaders. It was a race clearly won by the strongest rider. The mystic of P-R is that the strongest men lead, but it usually takes both strength and luck to win P-R. This year, in a remarkable performance, Cancellara just needed his awesome strength. It was a repeat of his form from the prior week at another beautiful race, Tour of Flanders. When Sparticus targets a race, everyone else needs to shoot for second.
Ronde von Palouse - This was an awesome and brutally tough race. I just didn't have the legs or mindset for riding and after watching the race, I was really glad I left it to tougher men and women. Most races have a pack that will stick together for a large part of the race, and often for the whole race. Ronde von Palouse was a race that blew apart every pack very early on and left each group scattered literally across numerous miles. The dirt portion was "only" four miles, but those miles got very, very long when you were riding them. I saw more flats than I have ever seen in a race and packs more broken apart than I have ever seen. My guess is that next year more people will be sporting wider tires and a few more tubulars.
I took a lot of pictures and will get them posted later this week. Team Two Wheel didn't have great results: one mechanical, one mental and one drop-out.
Paris-Roubaix - There was a good turn-out at the Steam Plant Grill for the coverage of Paris-Roubaix, but I discovered a problem. I think that I take bicycle racing a bit too seriously. I was gratified to have two guys near me that take it more seriously than I do, so that it was appropriately enabling, but I realized that I really like absorbing races like these in a much more controlled environment. One where I can hear everything, run the DVR back occasionally (and skip commercials), and give over fully to my bike geek side. At the Steam Plant there were numerous distractions, people to talk to and more people that I should have talked to, but it was hard because I just wanted to be staring slack-jawed at the race.
The race, by the way, was not a typical P-R. No bad weather, no inopportune crashes or wheels broken for the leaders. It was a race clearly won by the strongest rider. The mystic of P-R is that the strongest men lead, but it usually takes both strength and luck to win P-R. This year, in a remarkable performance, Cancellara just needed his awesome strength. It was a repeat of his form from the prior week at another beautiful race, Tour of Flanders. When Sparticus targets a race, everyone else needs to shoot for second.
Friday, April 9, 2010
A Strange Weekend of Racing
Rider 3 has already provided a couple of typically entertaining recaps of his weekend of racing, so I thought I'd get in the action too. After all, we took part in different races, although with similar outcomes, at least part of the time.
You probably have picked up on this by now, but our mighty Team Two Wheel has a fair amount of bike racing experience. Rider 2 and I perhaps have a bit more, but all of us have been around the proverbial block.
So given this, the past weekend was somewhat bizarre. Rider 2 probably put it best when he said something to the effect that we all should have paid attention to the omens when they first started showing up.
To wit:
- Just prior to the start of his time trial, Rider 2 clipped his foot out of his pedal while rolling to a stop, placing it on the sidewalk. In doing so he tripped the race's chief official, who yard-saled, crashing to the pavement. She evidently wasn't terribly pleased with him.
- Feeling crappy during his time trial, Rider 2 realized at the finish that his rear brake had rubbed on the rim his entire ride. Seriously rookie error. From a guy with 25 years of racing under his chamois? And he still finished in 4th place.
- Rider 3 meanwhile realized the night before his race that his tubular tires were threadbare. The night before the race he realized this?
- But if you think that's bad, check this out. Somehow, even though I spent the morning scrambling to get ready for an afternoon road race, I FORGOT TO EAT LUNCH. Also forgot to bring any food with me to the race. Seriously? How old am I?
- And then there was this bonehead move: I was sick for 3 weeks in March, during which I rode a total of two times. Then the week before Frozen Flatlands I went on a family vacation where exercise was limited to walking from one restaurant to another. So I went into a hard race with at best one match to burn. And what did I do early in the road race? Yep, I followed a series of ill-timed attacks, and once our break was caught I blew up and got dropped. So much for using my head, which is typically the one and only thing that gets me through hard races.
- Then on Sunday, 20 minutes before the start I realized I had left my jersey at home in the dryer. I seem to remember fining riders for stuff like this back in the day. Another rookie mistake.
OK, so it was a weird weekend. Now that those excuses are out of the way, here's a brief report on the weekend's racing.
As you know by now, Frozen Flatlands is the kickoff to eastern Washington's race season. The kids might say that the flatlands part of the race's name is a bit ironic. For once they'd be right. (By the way, I blame Alanis Morisette for the public's apparent total ignorance of the definition of irony. "It's like rain on your wedding day," isn't ironic. It's unfortunate. Anyway...) There's not a lot flat about the race. OK, it's not mountainous, but constantly up and down. And this weekend was hellawindy.
Like 30 mph windy.
With hail.
And cold.
And more wind.
Nope, not a terribly flat course profile.
Nasty. In fact it's the kind of weather all of us (well, at least Rider 2 and I) love to ride and race in. As long as we're feeling strong. The thing is, racing in hail and nastiness is
miserable when you're 100 meters behind the caravan for mile after mile.
FF starts with a 20K time trial. It's followed a couple of hours later by a 50ish mile road race. Tough first day, no? Sunday features a somewhat less hilly, but definitely not flat, 25 mile road stage.
I opted to skip the TT for a number of reasons. First, I was still less than healthy, so starting a TT in sub-freezing weather with 35 mph wind didn't sound like a great idea. I've also been scrambling to get our house on the market. Finally, my wife was hankering for a morning yoga class. So I did my family duty and nodded out of the TT.
Saturday's road race:
Going into the road race I didn't really know what to expect of myself. I certainly wasn't anticipating a win, but thought I'd at least finish with the front group. Like I already mentioned though, this didn't happen. I followed a couple of moves in the first big crosswind sections, but our little group was reeled in just before we made a right turn into a brutal headwind. Then I got dropped.
The one silver lining was that I was gapped with two very nice guys, Ted and Alex. They're also two typically strong guys, but my guess is after finishing second and fourth in the TT were blown.
My conversation with Ted, in fact, was limited to something to the effect of his comment of "bad legs." Short and sweet, and enough said.
We actually worked well together, and for four or five miles kept the main group close. One of the more frustrating things in cycling is getting dropped, only to put yourself on the rivet while riding 50 meters (or whatever) behind the main group. Totally unsustainable in a nasty headwind and we worked a hell of a lot harder than the riders in the main group.
In the end, Alex and I ended up riding in together. There was so much collateral damage in the main group that somehow I scored a handful of points at the finish, but I was tired, disappointed and demoralized. And I own Alex an energy bar. My stomach started growling about an hour from the finish, and thankfully he helped me out.
Rider 2 did us proud though, finishing third in the Master A category and among the top riders overall in the combined Cat 3/Master A field. In fact Masters riders were first and second overall in Saturday's road race.
Sunday:
The energy was light ahead of Sunday's short, 25-mile road race. Most comments I overheard involved the word "tired" somewhere in the sentence, but that said, I wasn't sure how the race would go. Balls to the wall? Sit and sprint? Early break rolling off the front and staying there? My plan was to not be stupid. This is hard for me though.
In the end, it was one of the most negative races I've ever done. If you're not familiar with this expression here's how things go down in a negative race. The group rolls along at 20 mph. Someone attacks. The group then goes 30 mph until the attacker is caught. Then the group goes 18 mph until someone attacks.
Hat's off though to Eric Schuman from the Lenovo team. He attacked alone, over and again until the group got bored of chasing him. In the end he was joined with another rider. Eric ended up in second for the day, so kudos to him. Thanks for not being a pansy like the rest of us, and being willing to actually attack the race.
To tell you the truth, I didn't expect the break to make it. Even at 3K to go the main peloton was fresh, and maybe 10 seconds down on the attackers. It's a fast finish and I expected someone to get aggressive. But like I wrote earlier, it was one of those super-negative days.
This race has a tricky final kilometer. The road is narrow--three abreast at best--and we weren't exactly moving quickly, so position was everything. I was a few rows back from the front, where I could see Rider 2, who I wanted to try and help in the finish. But there was no moving around. My bad.
In the end Rider 2 went on a flyer with about 800 meters to go, immediately opening a big gap. But there was a headwind and eventually the group decided to finally start racing. Somehow I popped through a hole, and for some strange reason the boys sat up for a second with 200 meters to go, just as we caught Rider 2. Even though it was early (the finish is uphill), I started my sprint then, almost closing the gap to one final rider.
So second in the field sprint, second in my official racing category and fourth overall among all riders. Ordinarily maybe a result to be disappointed about, but after my "performance" the day before I was more than OK with it.
And thanks to Chad for loaning me a jersey!
OK, tomorrow is another day for battle: Ronde van Palouse. I'm wildly underprepared for a day of hell. Wish me luck.
Rider 1
Rider 1
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)