Midnight Century - Daylight Version

Faithful readers will note that I previously did a 100-mile mountain bike this summer. For brand new readers, please refer back to the War and Peace-length saga earlier this month of the Leadville 100. So, after finishing such a long and difficult ride, what would the natural and normal thing to do be? Take it easy, enjoy some casual riding, right? So what did I do? I went out to ride the Midnight Century course with the fastest MC rider in town. Was this sensible? No. Reasonable? No. Hours of endless gravel rollers? Yes.

A couple of quotes I heard this morning remind me of this ride. Nietzsche famously said, "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger." Are they mutually exclusive? I don't think I died, but I certainly don't feel any stronger. Is it possible for something to both kill you and make you stronger? The other quote is actually a song lyric and no, I don't have to be embarrassed about it, I was listening to a Coldplay song. The line is something like, "no one said it was easy, but does it have to be this hard?" And that, my friends, regardless of your feelings for Chris Martin is a good motto for the Midnight Century course.

During the summer, Tom (who is the Head Mechanic at Two Wheel Transit (okay, currently the only mechanic)), helped me out by taking care of my bike, serving as a sounding board for numerous discussions of tires, wheels, etc., and may have saved my life during the 24 Hour Race (he helped me find the large and obvious wheel drag problem that plagued my 3rd lap: http://teamtwowheel.blogspot.com/2010/06/24-hour-race.html). Alongside the great wrenching and therapy sessions Tom offered me, we also discussed the Midnight Century and his preparations for it.

Tom had done numerous reconnaissance tours of the MC course in preparation for the actual event. While it is not a race, Tom was ready to go out and set the course record. Instead, because Tom is an incredibly nice guy he did two things on the night of the actual ride - he rode with and supported the efforts of two friends to help them have quick rides that night and he leap-frogged these riders to leave behind pine cone smiley faces for all the other riders. In other words, left to his own devices he clearly could have ridden faster than the 6 hours, 9 minutes that they finished together.

In my conversations with Tom, we had talked about doing a pre-ride of the MC course. I had wanted to go, but timing or my Leadville prep. schedule or something prevented it before I left for Colorado. I had considered doing the MC, which was the week before Leadville, but not being familiar with the course, I was concerned that it would be too much of an effort to recover from in a week's time. I was also cognizant of the additional danger of riding at night and didn't want to needlessly complicate or endanger my chances at Leadville. As a result, I put aside my desire to ride the MC and Tom and I agreed we would ride the course after I got back from my trip.

This did, however, pose a couple of issues. One, Tom, as mentioned above, was capable of a very, very fast ride on this course. While he will be very uncomfortable with me mentioning it, he is a previous Washington State Road Race champion in one of the Master's categories. As a result, I was a bit afraid of going with Tom because I didn't want to endure 9-12 hours of a) holding up Tom; b) patronizing comments from Tom like, "No, you climb really well for a fat guy" or "I was really looking forward to a 10-12 hour pace on the MC course - I get to see so much more going half the speed I normally do"; or c) finding myself laying in the midst of yet another gravel roller, crying on the road side and wondering why had I hadn't just rested on my laurels instead of tacking on another tough 100-mile mountain bike ride.

Despite my trepidations, however, I agreed to meet Tom at the Elk Saturday morning at 6.30 am for a trip around the MC course. We extended a couple of invitations to go along with us, but had no takers. I had no idea so many cyclists I knew would be having their hair done that morning. Nonetheless, the two of us headed out at the appointed time. In fact, my Garmin says we started at 6.32 am, which is remarkably timely for me. Doing it in the daytime has some upsides, like it means that without the lighting systems the bikes are lighter, the navigation is easier and you can show up feeling reasonably rested. Doing it in the daytime also has some downsides, like it is still a long, hard course full of mile upon mile of rollers and gravel roads.

Tom described the course generally like this, the first 25 miles are pretty easy and the last 25 miles are pretty easy, but the middle 50 miles are pretty tough. You could describe the 100 Years War in the same way (that middle 50 years was really something), but with just a bit less bloodshed. One of the interesting things about riding with Tom is that this description of the course may have been the only instance of him using understatement. In fact, Tom is a remarkably literal person. If someone asks me how far something is, I might say, "about 4 miles" which could mean anywhere from 2 to 8 miles, unless of course I have completely mis-remembered and then it could be somewhere between 100 yards and 10 miles. I don't mean to be inaccurate, but I'm okay with the idea of a range. That's why atomic clocks are of no particular interest to me. "About 4 pm" makes more sense to me than "4.01.53.002 pm" as a time. In contrast, when you say to Tom, "how long is this hill", his answer will be "it's about 1.1 miles" which translated means "it is almost precisely 1.1 miles unless I am wrong and it is really between 1.09 and 1.11 miles".

In terms of course descriptions, this is a great resource. Every time I asked about what was coming up on the course Tom had a full, complete and accurate answer, which is really nice when you aren't familiar with an area. On the other hand, it also means that when you say something like, "Sorry I am holding you up today," his response is not, "oh, you're not holding me up, I wanted to go slow today," and instead his response is more like, "Sure". Oh well, it is true that I was holding him up all day.

The MC course, at least the version we rode, which I think is the 2008 version, starts in Browne's Addition at Cannon and Pacific, heads into downtown and picks up the Centennial Trail to Stateline. We rolled along this portion of the course quickly and it did call into question the mountain bikes and giant tires we were riding. We covered this first 23 miles in about an hour and twenty minutes. Not blazing fast, but then again we were just riding and talking as opposed to racing.

From there, you hit your first substantial climb and then descent towards Liberty Lake, followed by the next climb out of Liberty Lake. At this point, all of the roads are still paved and I wondered about my cyclo-cross bike sitting at home. Shortly thereafter, however, the gravel roads start and the mountain bikes seemed like a better idea. We finished the first 1/3 of the course in something over two hours, but we had just started to get to the meat of the course (or, for you vegans, the "tofu" of the course). If you aren't familiar with the route, the best way to understand it is to go ride it, but second best is probably taking a look at this: http://connect.garmin.com/activity/47717598.

The next 1/3 of the course is mostly comprised of rollers, many on gravel roads and a few on paved roads, but through mile 58 you are either going up or down. I do not recall more than 100 feet of level road in this entire section (There might have been a level section, but I find that hypoxia limits my recollections). This section also involves the oddest part of the course, where at about mile 55 you take a right turn off of the gravel road, go around a fence and down a path into a ravine, across a charming wood bridge and back up the other side of the ravine. It is totally unexpected and I have to think it would be easy to miss in the middle of the night, not to mention a bit of rough riding. This is a portion that a cross bike would be a distinct disadvantage to a mountain bike. Rideable, but tougher. I am interested to go back and check this area out to understand the how and why this county-owned cut-off came to be.

Just after this, you then reach the major V in the profile. About mile 58 you start a 2-mile descent that takes you to Valley-Chapel road, but really to the base of this little valley. From there, however, you start climbing right back out of the valley including going up Spangle Creek road. In total, just after the 2 mile descent you have about 2.5 miles of climbing and an elevation gain of around 550 feet. I had never ridden up Spangle Creek road because I have always been at the bottom on my road bike and thought it turned to gravel just out of sight of Valley-Chapel Road. It turns out the climb is all paved, but it does turn to gravel for many miles before you can hook-up to a paved road again. This climb has grades as steep as 15% and it is, to use a crass term, a real ball-buster. For me, at least, this marked the period of waning strength. Tom was being very patient, but my back had been bothering me (which is a very unusual cycling problem for me) and I was getting tired.

From the top of this climb, you are about 2/3 done with the ride. Unfortunately, I was more than 2/3 done with my joie de vivre. We were at about 5 hours here, which I was surprised to realize was only about 15-20 minutes behind Tom's ride at the MC event. It was, for me, however, the closest we would be to that time. As we reached the open Palouse, we were greeted with increasing winds and an inverse proportion of strength from me. I gamely plowed along, but I was getting tired. I also didn't realize the way the course went and I thought that if I made it to Spangle then it would be an easy trip down the hill into town. I was wrong.

From Spangle, you cross 195 (tantalizingly down the hill to my house) and get on more gravel roads. These gravel roads, as all gravel roads on the Palouse, are rolling. The don't roll up and down as much as some of the prior roads, but nonetheless, they go up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down. And for our ride, they also went straight into the high winds for quite a ways.

You do, however, finally reach the point where the road is going mostly downhill and eventually intersect with the Cheney-Spangle road, leaving behind the gravel roads except for one tame stretch. The Cheney-Spangle road also rolls up and down a bit, but mostly down to the Fish Lake trailhead. From there, down the upper Fish Lake trail (where we had a nice tailwind finally and I sat on Tom's wheel for the whole length of it), a 3 mile section of ride-able gravel taking you to the lower Fish Lake trail, and then the final few blocks back to Browne's Addition.

I was seriously knackered for the last stretch and probably tried Tom's patience. He stopped a time or two, for a natural break and then for a couple of trail maintenance issues, and each time caught up to me surprisingly quickly. At least it surprised me. The old tortoise and the hare trick, except in this instance the hare was the one that was able to keep going and going.

And so, this story, much like the ride, peters out quickly. After the criss-crossing of fields, mile upon mile of road I have never seen, roller after roller and a very miserable wind that just blew stronger as the day went on, you then suddenly find yourself sharing the Fish Lake trail with families that just bought their bikes on sale at Wal-Mart. It is a bit of an odd transition and it feels like you should ride along next to them to say "hey, we started at 6.30 this morning and are just finishing a very tough ride, do you mind having a bit more respect?", but instead we just politely moved over to let the labradoodles and their owners have the trail. We rolled back up to my car after 7 hours and 13 minutes. As the Garmin tells the tale (succinctly compared to me), we were moving for 7 hours, 1 minute and 46 seconds. I wish I had realized so that somewhere I could have knocked off 2 minutes and booked a sub-7 hour time, but I guess that's why the road is still out there beckoning.

I am curious about how different it would be at night and I imagine it would be quite gratifying (as described here: http://26inchslicks.blogspot.com/2010/08/midnight-century-2010-my-view.html) to finish as the day is beginning. I can't guarantee that I will be there, but I will certainly try to make it next year to find out. Speaking of which, here is the link to the not-official ride information (since it isn't an official ride): http://www.midnightcentury.com/. Here are a couple of other links to ride information from 2010: http://100km.us/2010/08/22/midnight-century-2010-pt-1/ and http://100km.us/2010/08/25/midnight-century-2010-pt-2/ and http://cyclingspokane.blogspot.com/2010/08/midnight-century-preliminary-results.html and finally http://cyclingspokane.blogspot.com/2010/08/mc-results-mid-day-update.html.

In fact, the Midnight Century website and the Dean of Cycling Blogs are the best place to find out about next year's ride. It sounds as if Tom's cue sheet (found here: http://www.mechbgon.com/Midnight_century_cue_sheet.pdf) will be updated, revised and expanded upon to become the official cue sheet of the unofficial ride.

So, to sum it up. Midnight Century - No one said it would be easy, but did it have to be that hard?

Team Two Wheel Shop Ride

As spring follows winter, so dawn follows night. As the first Thursday of the month appears, so follows a Team Two Wheel Shop Ride. Maybe that isn't poetic, but it is true, which is more than you can say about a lot of what gets included in this blog.

Speaking of which, I did a post about mechanized doping. I watched the video a couple of times and I think the device is clever. I don't, however, really think that Cancellara used a motor, except his own. I watched both of those races and what Cancellara did was very tough, but in keeping with his prior known strength and his relative strength compared to his competitors. Having raced, there just are times when one guy rides away or when your own motor seems to just run out of gas, metaphorically speaking only, and a person or group jets away. I agree the video makes it seem suspicious, but I think we also have to take into account the various nationalities and the way they interact. When this video came out, a number of very high-level Italians were facing doping charges. I hate to be cynical, but throwing out this accusation took the spotlight off of them and started a whole new scandal. Now if only Cancellara was spotted with Lindsay Lohan, the whole world would pay attention.

Anyway, on to the Shop Ride. The week of the shop ride we had a bunch of rain and we seriously considered canceling the ride thinking that people wouldn't be focused on riding and the weather might turn against us. Cooler heads prevailed and we kept the date. Good for us, because it was one of the nicest weekdays to ride that week.

From Rides

We had about 25 people come out for this ride, including appearances by Riders One, Two and Three. Just like when identical twins sleep with their sibling's girlfriends, we all agreed ahead of time to pretend that we were riders other than we really are. We don't want to give up our secrets too soon and as the primary writer of the group, I don't want to be swarmed by autograph hounds at every turn, so this seemed easier.

We had an eclectic mix of riders in our group, including a couple of racers, a couple of near racers, a couple of "Moms in Motion" (as evidenced by their gear), a couple of people new to group rides and others somewhat new to cycling. We had a bit of slinky approach to this ride, where we would stretch out and then contract again. Don't worry though, we didn't try it on the stairs the way I like to with my own slinky (it's Campagnolo). We did the Seven Mile Bridge loop, starting at Two Wheel, heading down Riverside to Government Way, then through the park to the bridge and back up the other side of the river. This route does mean that Doomsday Hill is included, and I heard a couple of comments about that, but everyone did really well just plugging away and getting up the hill. Including me.

I forgot about Broadway being torn up, but we had a bit of cyclocross style adventure through the dirt, but I was actually a bit behind the group at that point and don't know whether they went around on the detour or plowed through the way I did with my companion.

The weather was very cooperative and, I think I can say fairly, everyone had a great time. And, as promised, but still nice to see, when we rounded the last corner, there was the David's Pizza truck set up and waiting to serve us some hot pies.

From Rides

Apparently this was a bit too much excitement for Geoff, one of the owners of Two Wheel, because in his high state of joy and agitation, he dumped 2/3 of a fresh, piping hot pizza onto the sidewalk. It was a pity to see something of such clear and remarkable beauty destroyed so quickly; the way you would feel standing in an art museum when a psychopathic idiot with a knife hacked a section out of your favorite Monet. Oh, you don't have a favorite Monet? How about Manet? Picasso? Singer Sargent? Oh fine, the Mona Lisa, but I was trying to avoid trite art cliches. Also, just to clarify, in comparing Geoff's act to that of a psychopathic idiot, I mean no disrespect nor do I intend to suggest that Geoff is either psychopathic, idiotic, telepathic or even photogenic; I'm just saying it was shocking. Mark Starr, the owner and chief pizza twirler at David's Pizza, was un-nonplussed by this and just calmly jumped in to make another pie. In fact, he cranked out a plethora of pizza and the crowd proceeded with enthusiastic mastication and satisfaction. In fact, as a crazy lady I once knew said, "my sufficiency has been suffonsified," or more accurately "our" sufficiency had been suffonsified. In other words, we were full of pizza.

And thus ended our Team Two Wheel ride. We rode for about 90 minutes and ate pizza. What more could you ask for in a shop ride?

From Rides

Speaking of the bike shop itself, the crew at Team Two Wheel was very well represented at our ride with owners Geoff and Bruce, and shop dudes Dave and Tomas, all riding along, while shop wrench (and damn fast rider) Tom stayed behind to keep the home fires burning and then get David's Pizza oven fires burning. They must have had fun though, because they are talking about doing a weekly ride or some other shop ride. If you are interested, leave a comment here or let they guys at Two Wheel Transit know what you would be interested in doing. They are there to serve and are looking for ways to support our collective ride needs.
Rider Three

Bike Commuting Thoughts

In honor of Bike to Work Week, here are a few random thoughts from a commute home recently. I had most of these thoughts in a very short stretch of road as I climbed Indian Canyon Drive. This is a climb (I suppose it is only a climb one direction, but I only recall going down it once on a bike and I have gone up it closer to 100 times on a bike) from Government Way up to the Sunset Highway along the edge of the Indian Canyon Golf Course. It is a very pretty stretch of road if you don't mind going uphill.

About a third of the way up the hill last week I encountered what I believe was someone's Verizon bill, which had been very deliberately into squares that were approximately 3/4" x 3/4". I don't know why, but my guess is that someone was unhappy with the bill and wanted the satisfaction of tearing it up and throwing it out the window. I wish they hadn't. I was tempted to pick up enough pieces to figure out who it was and then call the litter police, but that didn't seem like a good use of time for the hour it would take, but I was amazed at what people think is a good idea. Being on a bike makes you much more aware of what the ground looks like.

Within a few hundred yards of this littering, I had some of the best and worst of car behavior with regard to cyclists. As I came up a steep bend, a car had the choice of going around me or waiting. As any of you commuter/riders know, 99% of the time drivers will zoom past without regard to whether that is safe or not. If they can't see oncoming traffic, they will just move over and if someone comes, they feel free to cut you off or run you off the road. In this instance, amazingly, the driver just waited behind me. I kept pedaling up the hill and around the blind corner and waived them around as soon as I could see. This was also about the time they could see, since they were closer to the center-line and the whole thing was very pleasant. My guess is that I delayed this driver for a maximum of 20-30 seconds, but it was probably closer to 15-20 seconds. Whether this caused the driver's total trip to be 30 seconds longer is very unlikely, but it is remarkable what people will do to avoid these few seconds of delay. In this case, I was not surprised to see a bike rack on the back of the Subaru that went around me. It takes one to respect one, maybe.

Not long after this experience, while I was onto a straight section of road, I had another encounter with a Subaru. In this case, the driver had a clear view of the road, but for some reason decided to either shift down a gear or speed up and cut next to and in front of me as fast and close as possible, as if I was a pylon on a stunt-driving course. I take most things in stride out cycling, having ridden enough miles to have encountered it all many times, but this was genuinely upsetting. I was being toyed with like an inanimate object and it is not a good feeling. It is hard to understand how you can have so little regard for a fellow human being. On "The Office" this past week, Ed Helms' character took Steve Carell's character to meet the husband of the wife with whom he was having an affair. They did it in their usual zany, wacky way, but the point was to not ignore the human behind the actions. I would like to introduce myself to the Subaru driver treating me like a pylon and suggest that he would be unhappy with any of the negative outcomes from his behavior. His few seconds of mirth would hardly be worth the tragedy or ticket or whatever might happen.

This experience made me think of a great police operation/sting. Have a "commuter" who was actually a police officer ride along any arterial or non-arterial with a police cruiser down the road. The biking officer could radio the cruiser all of the idiotic, unsafe, unnecessary, unreasonable, illegal and ticketable offenses. Even if most drivers just got pulled over for a discussion, I think most would have second thoughts the next time they went around a cyclist. Think we will see that in Spokane? No, I think not either. Our community may have some progressive ideas, but our police force doesn't appear to.

Lower on the hill, I had another experience that makes me ponder human behavior. A Harley motorcycle was coming down the hill going to fast for the archaic technology or the driver's ability or both, but he crossed the center-line and then scrapped a foot peg or platform trying to correct to get back. It scared me to have a hulking piece of idiocy coming at me, but I'll bet it scared the motorcycle driver worse. I hope he will consider that it was embarrassing and maybe scary with a cyclist in the other lane, but it would have been a funeral if it had been a pick-up truck or school bus.

On a lighter note, a couple of years ago I had a set-up at work where I could take a week or so of clothing to work and then I was daily hauling back and forth just my "work" for the day in a messenger bag. It was convenient and it enabled me to ride a lighter bike. This year I am hauling panniers on a heavy bike but carrying the day's clothes back and forth. I haven't decided which is better.

Last thought. It is really a treat to ride my bike to work and home. Last week I had one day where I was working later than I wanted and it was stressing me a bit to know that it was going to take longer to get home than it would if I had had my car. Thankfully, as soon as I hit the street to ride home that feeling melted away. Instead of taking a "training" ride home, I just went directly home. It took a very few minutes longer to get there and it is a mind-cleansing way to travel.

If you bike to work, you know what I mean. If you don't, you should give it a try - despite the occasional idiots out there "sharing" the road.
Commuter Three

Say What?

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.

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.

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.

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.

Shop Ride Review

Despite the looming bad weather, 19 hearty souls appeared for the 2010's first Shop Ride from Two Wheel Transit. We really should credit the ride with 20, but I will get to that in a moment.

As previously reported, the first shop ride of the year was set for 5.30 pm on April 1. Let me repeat a couple of important points there: "5.30", "pm", "April", "1". Even though it is in the past, it is still important for our story.

So, as I said, there were 19 (or possibly 20) people who showed up for the shop ride. All three members of Team Two Wheel were in attendance, one of the owners of Two Wheel (Geoff), a couple of GU cycling team members (one of them 2nd in last week's Bellingham race - didn't catch K.C.'s finish), a couple of Baddlands riders and that left the majority as guys (sorry, no ladies on this trip - they may have been more mindful of the bad weather) who like to ride.

It was a good and compatible group, but I think that there were really two stand-out heroes of the day. The first shall be known as "D". D did a couple of triathlons last year with a 12-mile bike portion. He is interested in improving his cycling speed and fitness and thought that a group ride would be a good way to do that. He is relatively new to town and also wanted to meet some more riders and learn a bit about the routes around here. I think that part all went well, but a combination of a prior work-out that day, a rubbing brake pad that wasn't detected and fixed until late in the ride, and a more vigorous pace and distance than he was used to and D found himself struggling whenever the route headed upwards.

Now, every cyclist knows what this feels like. There really is a special kind of misery that goes with that sinking feeling as your legs and lungs refuse to cooperate as a group of riders seems to effortlessly ride away up a hill (I expect to have that feeling this weekend at Frozen Flatlands at Williams Lake!), but I also think that it takes a special reservoir of courage to keep with it and keep trying no matter how fruitless it appears. And that, my friends, is exactly what D did. No whining, no complaining; just kept riding the best he could and giving it what he had. He kept a good attitude and finished the ride.

His reward was pizza waiting for us at Two Wheel Transit. The benefit to having Geoff along, besides his pace setting and breaking wind, wait, I mean, anyway, at the end of the ride Geoff had arranged to have some pizzas delivered to the shop so that everyone who wanted was welcome to come in and have a bit of refreshment and hang around for a few minutes. It was a nice way to end a cool, but not wet, first shop ride of the year.

Now, about our mysterious 20th rider. This rider is a well-known, well-liked, fit and fast cyclist. He has a respected profession and, in fact, I recently saw him in Spokane Coeur d'Alene Living Magazine in a "Best of" story. In light of the cycling and community stature of this individual, I don't want to embarrass him, so I will simply refer to him as Dr. SJ. So, why, you ask, does Dr. SJ get to be a counted/not-counted member of the ride and how, you ask further, does that make him a hero of the ride? Well, my friends, Dr. SJ showed up for the shop ride on April 1st, at 5.30. Unfortunately for both him and us, it was 5.30 AM and not PM.

We should let that sink in for a moment.

For those of you around Spokane, you know that it was dang cold at 5.30 am yesterday. You also know that it was dang dark at 5.30 am yesterday. You also know that not one other sane person was on the street, much less on a bicycle, at 5.30 am yesterday. Nonetheless, Dr. SJ heeded the call for a ride and showed up at what he thought was the correct time. I'm not sure how he thought pizza fit in for the 6.30-7.00 am finish time, but you can't let little inconsistencies get in the way of a man's desire to ride his bike in a group.

So, to a ride hero who kept riding when he felt like stopping, and to a ride hero who went riding when no one else was looking, we salute you and thank everyone who showed up for the ride.

We will be having shop rides on the first Thursday of the month for the next several months, so put it on your calendar for Thursday, May 6 at 5.30 PM (please note the correct half of the day!).

See you at Frozen Flatlands this weekend!

Today is the Day

Today is the Shop Ride. Meet us at Two Wheel Transit, 1405 W. First. We will plan to leave at 5.30 pm, ride about 20 miles (as described below) and enjoy some cycling.

It's April Fool's Day, but no foolin', just a group ride. Come join us.

Shop Ride on Thursday, April 1

The first shop ride of the year is this coming Thursday, April 1. We will meet at Two Wheel Transit and leave at (about) 5.30 pm.

This is a casual pace, no-drop ride. 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. It is not a race and it is not a ride for someone who has never been on a bike, but for people who would enjoy taking a group ride and are capable of getting around the course on their own power.

We will leave Two Wheel and head down Riverside Avenue, around to Riverside State Park, the Seven Mile Bridge and then back. If the road is open, we will ride the other side of the river and come back into town across the Sandifur Bridge and up into Browne's Addition.

Total mileage will be around 20 miles and the pace will be moderate, but no-drop. This is not a training ride for serious racers, but it should be a good recovery ride for racers and a reasonable pace ride for recreational riders.

I am anticipating primarily lycra-clad cyclists, but I wanted John Speare, Dean of local cycle blogging, to know that we will welcome his woolen knickers and newly appreciated platform pedals if he joins us. As for BiketoWork Barb, we don't know if the route will change next time, but show up and talk us into one or the other. The pace is described above and I think it would fit into your pre-Frozen Flatlands decrease in intensity and speed to rest and be ready.

Any other questions? No?

Good, then come ride with us.

Post-Work Ride Round-up

I hate "springing the clock forward". It seems silly and is highly disruptive to my sleep schedule. As a digression, I consider it a significant luxury to use an alarm clock very rarely. I wake up about the same time every day and early enough to get done what I need to, where I need to, etc. So when the clock is suddenly and inexplicably an hour off, my body doesn't understand and protests by being groggy and cranky all day long. Well, maybe the cranky is my natural personality, but groggy is definitely part of the protesting.

Oh sure, I admit that I adjust, but I don't like it. Now, on the other hand, bumping my clock back an hour in the fall - excellent idea.

Nonetheless, there is a short-term benefit to the clock nonsense. It means there is daylight after work to catch a ride. Last night I was sprung from work early with a dentist appointment (oh joy!) and got home in time to get outside for a ride. It was a game-time call so I didn't line up a riding buddy, but took my first ride in a few weeks alone.

I had forgotten how much I enjoy time on the bike alone. As an another aside, I rode alone in Spokane a lot of years. I wasn't racing, didn't have any friends who rode and my schedule worked better to just ride when I could. I logged a lot of "alone" miles and enjoyed most of them (I remember one killer bonk still that would have been good to have someone along to keep me from wandering into traffic, but that is another story). In the past few years I have found a few new friends who cycle, have had longtime friends take up the sport (sports injuries, anyone?) and found a group of avid cyclists that I can join most weekends and every morning I feel like slogging up Hatch at 5.30 am (starting up soon, MR?).

Last night, however, was just me pushing pedals for about 80 minutes and loving every minute of it. Random thoughts, blog ideas, enthusiasm for a few new ideas (Rider 3 IPA!) and a reasonable workout all included at no additional charge.

As the sun was setting and the wind getting chilly, it was a reminder that it is still March, but the promise of heat glimmering off the pavement and the welcome cooling breezes around sun set are just tantalizingly around the corner. Soon enough, though.

Quicksilver's Saturday Ride Report

Rider Three spent time on Friday making a video which featured a character with an outhouse on his head. That was supposed to be me. I guess it was supposed to be funny. I was working and riding my bike instead. The way men do.

Here is my ride report. We met for a ride on Saturday and went for two hours. Weather was fine. I plan to do it again soon.
Quicksilver

Saturday Ride Report

Here is a quick ride report from Saturday. First, and of the most importance to me, is that prior to the ride I only had a couple of comments about the ride announcement, which I not-humbly called "The Best Ride Announcement Ever". I try to write things that are amusing, interesting and occasionally funny. On Friday I created the video announcement and I completely cracked myself up. I thought for sure that after I posted it I would get a few messages along the lines of "G-D that was the funniest thing I have seen since Caddyshack" or "Holy cow, other than getting the technology from BikeSnobNYC, that was very funny and clever". Instead, however, I got two complaints about not providing a text pronouncement (Thanks Bobs) and not much else.

As I rode up to the group on a beautiful Saturday morning, I honestly thought I was going to get a number of looks like "what is the matter with that guy?", and also, to be honest, I don't want to have a conversation about what is the matter with me. The list is too long to start. Anyway, I was pleased that the reaction was good and that people enjoyed it. In the post-Oscar glow, my inner-Sally says, "They liked it, they really liked it!" As evidence of that, the blog posted a five-fold increase in readership from the prior days.

But you are now asking, what does this have to do with a ride report? Nothing, but then again if I didn't digress, this blog would be filled exclusively with six-word entries from Quicksilver.

So, on Saturday at 11 a.m. the sun was shining and the temperature was rising slowly. The group grew and grew, until we had an impressive 27 people ready to go for a ride. Not bad for this early in March.

There was a wide range of clothing, from M. S. who looked like Nanook of the North to my fellow TTW riders who seem impervious to the cold and dress like it. As it turns out, those with the light clothing on were suitably attired. I ditched my wind vest approximately 3 minutes into the ride and the stops were used more for shedding layers than shedding water (if you know what I mean). Speaking of shedding water, or what the professionals call a "nature break", last week the group had turned a corner with a stop sign and had stretched out a bit. I was in the middle rear of the group with Rider 1 and we saw Rider 2 take off at a dead sprint off the front of the group. Rider 2 is usually the diesel motor type, not the pretty-pony type, so I said to Rider 1, "What is up with #2?" He said, "No idea", so I said, "Shall we catch him?" "Sure" was the response. So, feeling frisky and knowing that primarily all I had to do was sit on #1's wheel, we got quickly up to speed and started eating up the asphalt between us and #2. At that point, however, just as we were closing in at full speed, #2 pulled off the left side of the road to a, shall we say, private area. Unfortunately, we had pulled the group up to warp speed as everyone was getting onto the train before it left the station. This left #2 well and truly behind. Now, #2 had a theory that we could have turned off the gas, but jeez, we didn't keep speeding up, we just burned off the momentum we already had. Before you get feeling too bad for him though, it turns out that we were not far from a long downhill, which Rider 1 took at full speed, and then the road turned up sharply for a long hill. This is where I saw Rider 1 again. Going by. Quickly. Let's just he wasn't really in danger of being dropped.

Anyway, this week we had a couple of more organized nature breaks. Rider 2 took the time to complain about the deference offered to those with stops on Saturday.

The ride took the lower portion of the "new" Fish Lake Trail. This trail is definitely being discovered and we saw lots of people on it. Our group was very civilized and I can assume that T. W. was doing his "Gregarious Rider" impersonation to every person we passed. With 27 riders we needed to be courteous and I believe we were. At the intersection with the Cheney-Spokane road, we turned towards Cheney and stayed on the road. We had a bit of a city limit sprint and then made our way to Betz Road. By this time, we had shed a few riders off the back. I actually dropped off the back at one point to find out what happened, but the few riders must have turned around since they were not within sight.

As we headed up Betz road, one of Rider 1's favorite sojourns, we did have one fearless soul dash off the front who then served as our rabbit as the group kept up a good tempo. We eventually caught him as we left Betz Road and the group came together again for a few minutes. As we left Four Lakes we did have another burst of speed, first by a couple of speedsters and then by Rider 1 who decided, without warning I think, to open up the after-burners for a 3-minute threshold attempt to get an idea of how his Sunday 12k TT was going to go. Or at least planned to go, as it unfortunately did not, but I am proud to say that I caught up to him. I would like for this to stand as a testament to by speed and and fitness, but it was not. Instead, I used a bit of trickery, like cutting through a stop sign at high speed and then again at an intersection where Rider 1 had stopped traffic and I was just barely close enough to make it through the intersection before traffic started up. Yes, trickery was much more useful than speed.

Anyway, we made our way back to Thorpe, sped down to Vinegar Flats and then I headed home and let the rest of the diminished pack head up the fish ladder on the way home. It was largely an uneventful ride. A few got dropped, a few were frisky, and I think that everyone was tired after the two hours of effort, but the real news is that the sun was shining and the temperatures are getting hopeful. It was a ride that reminds me of why I enjoy cycling so much. Just the right mixture of BS, hard work and the easy camaraderie of a pack of like-minded souls. Thanks for the ride, guys.
Rider 3

Shop Rides

Last year Team Two Wheel hosted one Shop Ride. We left from Two Wheel Transit at about 5.30 pm and did the 7-Mile Bridge/Riverside State Park loop. We had about a dozen people and had a good time. For a variety of reasons, we didn't end up getting another ride together, but we are back from the dead and bigger than ever. So here is the tentative schedule for Shop Rides in 2010: Thursday, April 1; Thursday, May 6; Thursday, June 3; Thursday, July 1; Thursday, August 5; and Thursday, September 2. Do you see a pattern here? Yes, yes. I used the Fibonacci sequence.

No, I didn't.

We are going to have Shop Rides on the First Thursday of each month until September.

Here is the overview. This is a casual pace, no-drop ride. 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. It is not a race and it is not a ride for someone who has never been on a bike, but for people who would enjoy taking a group ride and are capable of getting around the course on their own power.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask in the shop or drop us a line. Get these dates on your calendar, get your bike tuned-up and ready if you haven't been riding and we will see you in a month.

Ride Announcement

Good Citizens of Morning Ride, let not the rain that falleth from the skies deter your spirits or spines for riders will be coming from many directions to gather at the Giant Shooting Fire Stick on the 14th of our city's primary paths, come rain or shine, both upon the morrow and yet again after the passing of a sun and moon. These hearty riders shall be steadfast in their aim and fecund in their goals. These gatherings shall be first upon the highest point of the sun, although it be obscured by the clouds and this time shall be obfuscated by the existence or non-existence of daily savings time. These riders shall go forth for a period of two passings of the sands and shall be undertaken with reasonable rapidity. The second of these gatherings shall be two passings of the sun prior to the highest point of the sun but shall be undertaken for four passings of said sands at a pace more reasonable to such duration. We know not where our wheels shall take us or upon which paths we shall trod, but please come for these festivities as the joviality of such gatherings shall increase upon the abundance of said participants.

Translation:

Rocket on 14th Avenue, Saturday, Noon, 2 hours, tempo pace.

Rocket on 14th Avenue, Sunday, 10 am, 4 hours, endurance pace.

The more the merrier.

I don't know what "fecund" means, but it sounds smelly.

Rider 3

Random Thoughts

A couple of quick, random thoughts.

1) You meet nice people on bikes. I was out a few days ago and ended up riding along with a guy named Lance from Texas. Seriously.

No, it wasn't that Lance, but it was a nice guy and we rode along for about 20 minutes talking about bikes and motorcycles. It's a reminder of why I like this sport so much.

2) I recently heard Rider 1 breathing hard. Now, I have always assumed that this happens, but it would usually happen when I was several hundred meters behind him on a hill, or when he is racing in a category above mine, or when he is out doing intervals on his own, but it has been a long, long time since I personally experienced this. I happen to catch him on just the perfect day; he had put in a long, exhausting day of physical labor the day before and was tired before he slung a leg over his bike. Perfect. We were rolling along, came to a rise and lo and behold, as we approached a turn we slowed together and I realized he was breathing hard. No, not really hard, but more than I remember hearing. Wow, I also saw Rider 2 use his small chainring this year, so I guess I have experienced it all.

3) I have now ridden six days in a row. I'm sure this is the first time in 2009 that this has happened and it is really nice. I have been trying out saddles (see Friday's post) and wanted to do it day after day to keep in mind the differences, issues, etc. Also, the new bike excitement probably helps (see Wednesday's post). Anyway, the hot weather we have been having leaves the early morning the perfect time to get out and ride. I have been by myself except for Sunday which is also nice.

4) I should remember to ride by myself. I don't have a hard time pushing myself when I am by myself, in fact I probably do it too much, but riding by myself means that I have had the leisure to futz with my saddle, bike adjustments and riding issues with no pressure to not hold up others. Also, I have been more thoughtful about things like pedal motions and various position issues. It's nice to get out on my own to remember these things.

5) I miss riding with groups. Because of my schedule, I haven't made many group rides lately and I miss rolling out with a group of 20-30 riders just because of the camaraderie, shared joy and misery, various BS that gets handed out, and knowing that the larger the group, the more likely that I will be able to hang until the end.

6) I don't have visions of Tour de France glory when I ride, but I have hit or narrowly missed a few bumps lately that gave me visions of Jens Voigt. There but for the grace of divinity go I . . .

7) Yes, in the 50's they told us to walk and ride AGAINST the traffic. The authorities stopped telling kids to do that a LONG time ago. Please don't do it and tell others when you have the chance. I nearly got into a head-on crash with an 800 year old woman (no, not a typo) because she was pedaling 2.5 mph against traffic and I almost didn't see her in time. Yes, I should have been looking up more, but I was tired, it was windy, it was slightly uphill and I DIDN'T EXPECT ANYONE TO BE RIDING AGAINST TRAFFIC ON THE SHOULDER COMING AT ME.

8) Speaking of old riders, saw one Saturday who I knew. He looks and acts at least a decade younger than he is. I hope to hell someone says that about me some day as I tool around on my comfort bike with the handlebars 18-24" above my seat level.

9) Speaking of young riders, my 14 year old is the proud owner of his first road bike. I have been out with him a few times, but I need to ride with him more. I took up this sport without any parental involvement, so I don't know what this will do to him, but I hope he has fun with it and that it is at least a couple years before I can't keep up with him.
Rider 3

Of Bonking

Last post, I wrote about a guy who reached the end of his proverbial rope and kept riding. This is different than bonking. I certainly am not the guy to explain the physiological differences, but here is my layman approach. Reaching the end of your capacity means that you have just ridden all that you can reasonably do on that particular day. Your legs have nothing left; you are out of steam, out of snap, at the bottom of the tank, or whatever.

Bonking, by contrast, is when you run out of fuel for your body. You may have ridden more miles on prior days, or had harder rides. It's not that you were not trained for the distance or challenge, but instead you have used up all the immediately available energy. I have heard it said that you are out of glycogen in your muscles, although I don't know if this is the whole story. In any case, you hit a point where you don't just feel like slowing down, instead you feel like stopping, you feel like getting off the bike, laying down by the road and letting the process of ashes to ashes, dust to dust begin right there.

The French say that you have been visited by "the man with the hammer", which you then hear trans-morphed into a "hunger knock". In either case, when you bonk, you are functionally done.

On my ride to Steptoe Butte, I talked to Steev about bonking and said that it had been years and years since I had seriously bonked. I regaled him with a tale of the pre-cell phone days when I bonked on a ride on the old Palouse Highway. Everytime I ride up that hill I am reminded of the day that I was forced to get off of my bike and sit by the road. I had no food, no more water, no cell phone and I was at least a mile, probably two, to the next house. I was about 10 miles from home. I had been riding on absolute empty for miles and I finally came to the climb that I thought might end up being my final resting spot. I stopped my bike in a tiny bit of shade and sat down in the dirt and gravel off the side of the road. There was nothing on which to sit, no curb or rock, and no person with a choice would have sat down on this hot, dry slope. I was that person who was out of choices. After sitting there for about a half of an hour, I finally gathered enough mental and physical strength to get back on my bike and slowly, every so slowly, rode home.

Because of my size, and hopefully my discretion and planning, it had been a long time since I was that drained. At least a decade, almost two. But I managed to get back there recently.

I was looking forward to the particular ride. It is one of Rider 2's prefered rides - the Troika course. Heading up Thorpe, across the west plains to Medical Lake and then through his boyhood neighborhood back into town. It is about a 60 mile loop from my house and I had done this ride a couple of times already this year. I even blogged about it once. On this day, it was going to be one of the first rides where all of TTW was going to be together for a while, so I was looking forward to seeing the "team." I was feeling fairly good and while I am not the rider that either of my teammates are, I felt good about my ability to take a few pulls and hang in for a good ride.

It was not to be.

On the way up Thorpe I was actually in front of the group and someone complained about my speed up a hill. If you have ever ridden with me, you know how unlikely that is. I didn't go nuts, but I did take a few big pulls with Rider 2 (Hey Rider 2, did you realize you HAVE a small chain ring?). Twenty or thirty miles later, however, I noticed that I was getting tired after we crossed Highway 2. In fact, I found that my legs were leaving me on each uphill. At one point, Rider 1 had a broken spoke and I waited down the road knowing that there was a steep climb and I wanted to use the 1,000 yard advantage to keep up with the group over the crest.

Didn't happen.

Soon after that I realized that I was going to crap. I couldn't keep pace if the road tilted up more than 2 degrees. I caught back up a time or two and then we hit the bottom of Coulee-Hite Road. At that point, for some reason completely unknown and incomprehensible, my team-mates decided to bash in everyone's skull - figuratively speaking. As we hit the flat, slightly downhill run-off, Rider 1 ramped up over 30 mph. I thought to myself that if I could just hang on to the tail of the group for his pull, I would be able keep up when the next person inevitably slowed down.

Wrong.

Rider 2 decided to assert some authoratative leadership and continued with an extended, extended pull at the same or higher pace. Everyone in the group suffered, but I died. At that point, it was time to leave me beside the road to end my suffering in some peace and quiet. In a bit of faux-selflessness, I told the group to go on without me. It was meant as a plea for help. Instead, to my surprise, they said "great", they would go on without me. Left to my own, I did the only thing a self-respecting cyclist could do. I used my cell phone to call my wife for a ride home.

It will be a long time before I get into that spot again. I hope.

Of Steptoe Butte, Bonking and Dead Legs

In early June, I asked my riding buddy Steev (this name has been changed to protect the identity of this bike-riding captain of industry) if he would be interested in riding up Steptoe Butte. Steev is one of those guys who sees the benefit of facing a challenge in a direct and head-on manner. He is not (yet) a hill climber, so his immediate preference is to attack any hill in proximity to give him a sense of what it takes and how to acclimate to this challenge. As such, and lacking a good idea of what he was readily agreeing to, Steev said "Sure, let's go ride up Steptoe Butte".

An aside, this reminds me of a conversation in which I asked Rider 1 to train for and ride the Leadville 100 with me. His response, as a former Boulder, Colorado resident was, "The Leadville 100 is for people who don't live in Colorado. People who live there know how stupid it is to race a mountain bike at that altitude." Apparently lacking knowledge of a challenge is the best way to decide to do it.

Anyway, the short version of our long ride is this. Because of the time it would take, we decided to drive to Spangle and ride from there. We took the Old 195 Highway through Rosalia, Oakesdale and to Steptoe Butte. At the base of Steptoe Butte, we took a picture to memorialize the ride ahead.

From Rides

Riding up to Steptoe Butte there are times it lears in the distance like a mini-Mt. Ventoux. It rises somewhat oddly in the midst of the rolling Palouse Hills. I have heard that on a crystal clear day you can see all the way to Mt. Rainier from the top, but I have never been there on a day clear enough to test this. I do know that it is the highest point for many, many miles. The road up to it climbs around the butte like the swirls of a soft-serve cone. After the steep, steep ramp at the bottom, you begin making a gentle left-hand turn for the couple of miles to the top. At the top, there is a cruel joke of another 50 meter pitch that is so steep that I accidentally lifted my front wheel off of the ground by gently pulling on the bars. After that, you are on the top.

From Rides

On this day, the three cars of people and few motorcyclists standing around on top all turned to look at the odd phenomena of bike riders appearing. It is the kind of moment when you are proud of the work it takes to make it to the top, no matter how slowly.

As you can see from the photo, it was a cloudy day and while we were on top of this beast, we heard the first thunder in the distance. We turned our bikes downhill and headed back the 40+ miles to the car. On the way, we were rained on and blown around a bit between Oakesdale and Rosalia, but were lucky that the lightening headed another direction and as we exited Rosalia it stopped raining. It was cool and we were under-prepared, but okay for the remaining ride.

The way back though, is what made this ride noteworthy. Steev had completed a century the prior year, but this ride was probably a bit too long for his training this riding season. In any case, he was largely out of steam by the time we left Rosalia and still had 15-20 miles to go. Every passing mile became more and more difficult. Steev had not bonked, but just had ridden all that he could do in good shape. I have another riding buddy who says "Action is what makes a man." In this case, I think it was reaction that made the rider. Instead of taking any of the alternatives, like stopping, whining or faking an injury, Steev just gamely pressed on. Even as our pace slowed and it became a struggle to keep moving, Steev just kept his head down and pushed on the pedals. He knew that I would have been glad to ride ahead and get the car to pick him up, or that there were other options, but those weren't options in his mind. The only choice available was to do his best and get back to the car.

It was one of those days that stands out for a variety of reasons. It is a great road with a real highlight of reaching the top of Steptoe Butte. It was a day that could have turned to complete hell if we got caught in a thunderstorm or if the temperature had dropped dramatically. It was a tough ride under the best of circumstances, but the rain added to it. But mostly, it was one of those days that makes you measure yourself as a rider and as a person, and makes you glad to be a cyclist.
Rider 3

An Intense Father's Day Weekend

Regarding the title of this post, thankfully I'm not referring to a stress-filled weekend jam-packed with tasks and obligations I'd rather avoid.

Instead, I'm referring to my riding.

I had two beautiful days this weekend. For a number of reasons I needed to ride solo. First off, I wanted to try and do some harder efforts, and this always works better for me when I'm by myself. With others I end up riding too hard, or not hard enough. Or resting too long between efforts, or not long enough. No, I what I wanted was to ride where and how I wanted to ride. Plus, Riders 2 and 3 had other plans. Solo it was.

For the most part I generally prefer to ride with friends. I like the camaraderie and social aspect of riding in a group--large or small. But sometimes solitary time on the bike is a must. Especially after the past week. Work has been exceptionally busy and stressful (mostly in a good way though) and I was really looking forward to time alone. It's interesting how this ends up being time for reflection, even though I don't always spend time thinking about anything other than the ride, how I'm feeling on the bike, where that creak in my bottom braket is really coming from, etc.

Plus, like I mentioned a couple of times last week I haven't been riding much and intense efforts have been more difficult than usual. I raced last Tuesday, miraculously finishing fourth, but it wasn't a memorable showing, despite a relatively weak field. I could say that I botched the sprint, but it's funny how when you're feeling good and have decent form, sprints don't get botched.

Anyway, after getting a new spoke for my training wheel at Two Wheel Transit (and catching up at the shop with a couple of the Morning Ride guys that had just finished their long ride), Saturday I did repeats on a hill called Greenwood Road. It's not terribly long--say six to seven minutes depending on my fitness--but it's absolutely hard. The climb gets steeper as you ascend, with the most difficult pitch at the very top.

It's also a beautiful road. Smooth asphalt, great views of Indian Canyon and Palisades Park, thick old-growth fir covering the hillsides, and on the way down, one of the best panoramas of downtown Spokane around. It also gets very little traffic.

And riding this, I almost died. For once, not from some self-inflicted hypoxic state, but from some guy in a truck being stupid. Greenwood is a curvy, steep road with a sandy shoulder. So when you're piloting a 3,000 pound, 20 year old pickup it's probably not a good idea to be sending text messages, which is what the wanker driving the car seemed to be up to. You can probably guess that he drove off the road, I heard a screeching of tires on asphalt and came around the corner to see the guy drifting his truck sideways at 45 mph, with his phone still in his hand. Yikes. I'm sure he went home and told his friends about it, leaving out the part about the phone, but referencing his NASCAR-like reflexes. Except it was a right-hand bend, and in NASCAR you only turn left.

Sunday was Father's Day, so I headed out after a tasty breakfast with my family for a series of 15 minute threshold efforts. Or something around threshold anyway. My heart rate monitor hasn't worked for a couple of months now, so I ride by feel, which is probably better anyway. After 25 years of riding I hope I have a decent sense of when I'm working hard.

It was humid, but the upside of the thunderstorms we've been having is that Spokane is greener than I think I've ever seen it in late-June.

I felt surprisingly strong, ticking through the first effort without more trouble than usual, especially on the heels of Saturday's hard ride. Heading up the Fish Lake Trail--a flat rails-to-trail that brings you to the town of Cheney--I had my second near miss of the weekend. I made the rookie mistake of riding with my head down for 10 seconds or so--something I rarely do. When I looked up what was in front of me? Like 20 meters in front of me? An exceptionally large coyote. I still can't think of a single positive outcome from T-boning a wild animal. Luckily I think it was more scared than I was and it scampered up the hillside.

The rest of the ride was perfect. The rolling hills of Salnave Road were beautiful, the fisherpeople on Silver and Clear Lake must have been at home waiting for the next rainstorm, and the temperature was cool. Armwarmers in June are a rarity, but with the humidity I ended up a bit dehydrated by the end.

No racing this week for me. I'm heading to San Fran for a surprise work trip for a few days. Should make for the perfect runup for State Championships.

On another aside, did you catch Fabian Cancellara and his big ol' cottage of wattage in the Swiss Tour final TT? Holy crap--the man can lay it down. How many bikes a year do you think he breaks? Given how many 40-50 year old docs and lawyers I've seen destroy Specialized Tarmacs, I can only imagine that Spartacus is a one-man R&D department for the big red S.

Avoiding raindrops

This is a game I used to have to play in Boulder all the time. You leave on a ride at a time when the weather is looking especially ominous, then spend your time sprinting away from storm clouds. In its own way, it's actually kind of fun.

I came home from work a few nights ago intent on getting out for a ride. It was a long day with perhaps a few extra frustrations thrown in. But it was especially humid, there was occasional thunder and rain was definitely on the way. Yet it was sunny at my house. To add to the excitement I broke two spokes on a long ride over the weekend, (piece of crap three cross traditionally built wheel only lasted 13 years) so I was rolling around on my all-carbon race wheels. Regardless of what some people seem to think, cork pads and carbon do NOT work all that well when it's wet.

Anyway, it looked sunnier to the south, so south I headed into Spokane's Hangman Valley. I ended up keeping my eye on the various rain clouds, heading left or right where I could to avoid them.

Not only was it a great ride, but I stayed completely dry. Good for me. After all, I wouldn't want my fancy wheels to get dappled with road grime. They're much too fancy for that.

I realize my camera phone is lousy, but here's a pic from the Palouse Highway, overlooking Hangman Valley that probably does a better job at what I've been trying to describe. For all of you non-Spokane readers I wish you could see this valley. It's so green and beautiful right now. You're missing out.

From Team Two Wheel