It's been five weeks since I stepped off a plane from San Francisco weighing a few pounds more than at any previous point in my life. Nine days spent sitting idle behind a computer. Nine days of eating way too much for breakfast and drinking too many beers with dinner. We need not discuss the desserts. I can't pin all of this blame on Duke though. My eating habits in general had deteriorated over the winter and the frequency at which I was working out could be measured in lunar phases. I wasn't getting fat, but I was certainly getting soft. Something had to give.
This is where I could write about how hardcore I've become in terms of working out and watching what I eat. I could tell you that I'm again training for marathons and Ironman triathlons and stage races in Canada. But it'd be a lie. As it turns out, I'm enjoying pretty significant results with what I would consider a very non-drastic course of action. I call this the DBLDBS plan, short for Don't Be Lazy, Don't Be Stupid. All rights reserved, copyright 2011, property of Randomly Generated blog. Rebroadcast or description of events prohibited without the expressed written consent of Major League Baseball. Oops.
Before I share the details of my plan, a few results are in order. I've been using our wonderful Omron scale every Thursday morning to chart my progression in terms of weight loss, body fat percentage, visceral fat, and skeletal muscle percentage. After five weeks of DBLDBS...
Showing posts with label cycling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cycling. Show all posts
New Pounds, Garmin Connect
I returned Wednesday night from a nine-day trip to the San Francisco Bay area for work and brought a little something extra home with me. There was the usual suitcase crammed with dirty laundry and a pouch filled with dozens of receipts for the expense report, but there was also an extra four pounds around my mid-section. I knew we were eating well, but I didn't realize just how well. The extra poundage comes at a bad time, as I've yet to shed my winter weight. And the fact that I just nonchalantly typed the words winter weight makes me want to punch myself in the face.
Chainless Single-Speeds
My brother sent me this link to a CNN article about Trek's introduction of two chainless bicycles this winter.
It sounds like they're going to primarily be for commuters and cruisers, and not necessarily for mountain biking (not even for single-speed mountain bikes -- my guess is the torque we would apply is just too great), but I like where this is heading. Anything that could reduce maintenance and weight is worth pursuing, so long as the price is reasonable.
Full article here.
Bjorling said the new belts are a low-maintenance solution to a chain, which has roughly 3,000 parts including all the links and connectors.
Aside from the whisper-quiet ride, the lighter and longer-lasting carbon-fiber composite belts won't rust, can't be cut, won't stretch or slip and won't leave grease marks around your ankles. A guard over the belt-drive and the construction of the system makes getting your pants stuck an unlikely scenario, Bjorling said.
One version of the chainless bike, called the District ($930), is a single-speed, complete with a silver body, orange accents and brown leather seat and handles. The other, called the Soho ($990), is an eight-speed bike that uses an internal hub to adjust the speed rather than gears.
Bicycles have come a long way from the "boneshakers back in the 19th century," said Orin Starn, a professor at Duke University who teaches a course on the anthropology of sports. Some companies have used direct drive or drive shaft bikes that provide some of the same benefits as Trek's chainless bikes, but those models have yet to replace the age-old chain.
It sounds like they're going to primarily be for commuters and cruisers, and not necessarily for mountain biking (not even for single-speed mountain bikes -- my guess is the torque we would apply is just too great), but I like where this is heading. Anything that could reduce maintenance and weight is worth pursuing, so long as the price is reasonable.
Full article here.
Into Thick Air
I'm just about done reading Jim Malusa's book "Into Thick Air: Biking to the Bellybutton of Six Continenents" and I'm actually a bit unsure how I feel about the book. There's no doubt his two-wheeled journeys in Australia, Russia, Djiboutti, Argentina, Jordan, and the United States were the things only a man with big dreams and tremendous confidence would undertake, but there was always something under the surface that rubbed me the wrong way about this book. It could be that Malusa's overuse of the passive tense slowly grated on me or maybe it was the simple fact that the stories he told weren't as interesting as I had hoped. Maybe I just wished I was reading another book by Willie Weir?
It didn't help that the book started off with Malusa's journey across the heartland of Australia. Aside from a few colorful locals and an approaching tropical storm, there didn't seem to be much that interested him. I'm sure the landscape didn't offer much for him to wax poetic about, but considering how many miles he rode and the remoteness of his trip, it was quite dull. His frequent complaining about trying to get set up with a modem to provide online updates to the Discovery Channel didn't help matters. The story lacked the adventure I, and perhaps the author, expected and as a result if wasn't rather enjoyable.
The book certainly picks up a bit after that initial foray across Australia. His second jaunt took him Egypt and into Jordan to pedal to the Dead Sea. This was an interesting tale, mostly for the people he met along the way and the polical hurdles he had to jump in being allowed into Egypt with a satellite phone. Still, it's odd that so much time would be spent discussing his techno-gear required by the Discovery Channel, but next to no discussion of cycling gear. Not that I care what brand of bicycle he was riding, or what gearing he was using, but would-be bicycle tourers are always interested in hearing an experienced cyclist's tips for bike transport and security. In fairness, Weir's book "Spokesongs" offered precious little info about this either so maybe I'm in the minority for wanting it.
Malusa does seem to grow both as a traveler and a writer during his journeys and the quality of the storytelling was much improved by the time his trips through Russia and the Patagonia region of South America came about. I especially appreciated his ability to work so much local history into the text. And his ability to describe the Patagonian beauty -- and semi-miserable weather -- definitely made me that much more excited about our own upcoming trip to that same area of the world.
In fairness, the book actually spans nearly a decade in Malusa's life, the birth of two children, and thousands of miles of pedaling. Is it not permissable to allow him to grow from chapter to chapter? In hindsight, my initial reaction to the book was certainly different than my final opinion. It took far longer than I expected, but I was eventually looking forward to crawling into bed just so I can read some more about his travels in Djiboutti and then finally, to Death Valley -- along a stretch of road that I remember vividly from my own trip to that fabulous hole in 2002.
It takes a while to hit its stride, but if you're interested in world travel , particularly by bicycle, then I suggest you pick it up. If for no other reason than to get another piece of evidence in support of the kindness of strangers and the erroneous nature of so many of the perceived dangers in travel off the beaten path.
Buy the book here.
It didn't help that the book started off with Malusa's journey across the heartland of Australia. Aside from a few colorful locals and an approaching tropical storm, there didn't seem to be much that interested him. I'm sure the landscape didn't offer much for him to wax poetic about, but considering how many miles he rode and the remoteness of his trip, it was quite dull. His frequent complaining about trying to get set up with a modem to provide online updates to the Discovery Channel didn't help matters. The story lacked the adventure I, and perhaps the author, expected and as a result if wasn't rather enjoyable.
The book certainly picks up a bit after that initial foray across Australia. His second jaunt took him Egypt and into Jordan to pedal to the Dead Sea. This was an interesting tale, mostly for the people he met along the way and the polical hurdles he had to jump in being allowed into Egypt with a satellite phone. Still, it's odd that so much time would be spent discussing his techno-gear required by the Discovery Channel, but next to no discussion of cycling gear. Not that I care what brand of bicycle he was riding, or what gearing he was using, but would-be bicycle tourers are always interested in hearing an experienced cyclist's tips for bike transport and security. In fairness, Weir's book "Spokesongs" offered precious little info about this either so maybe I'm in the minority for wanting it.
Malusa does seem to grow both as a traveler and a writer during his journeys and the quality of the storytelling was much improved by the time his trips through Russia and the Patagonia region of South America came about. I especially appreciated his ability to work so much local history into the text. And his ability to describe the Patagonian beauty -- and semi-miserable weather -- definitely made me that much more excited about our own upcoming trip to that same area of the world.
In fairness, the book actually spans nearly a decade in Malusa's life, the birth of two children, and thousands of miles of pedaling. Is it not permissable to allow him to grow from chapter to chapter? In hindsight, my initial reaction to the book was certainly different than my final opinion. It took far longer than I expected, but I was eventually looking forward to crawling into bed just so I can read some more about his travels in Djiboutti and then finally, to Death Valley -- along a stretch of road that I remember vividly from my own trip to that fabulous hole in 2002.
It takes a while to hit its stride, but if you're interested in world travel , particularly by bicycle, then I suggest you pick it up. If for no other reason than to get another piece of evidence in support of the kindness of strangers and the erroneous nature of so many of the perceived dangers in travel off the beaten path.
Buy the book here.
Leadville: Official Numbers
I finally got around to looking at the official results for the Leadville 100. Here's how it breaks down:
Official Starters: 890
Finishers < 9hrs: 114 (12.8%)
Finishers 9 to 12 hrs: 538 (60.4%)
Unofficial Finishers 12 to 13 hrs: 60 (6.7%)
Did Not Finish: 178 (20.0%)
By all accounts from those who would know, this year's race had the best conditions and was one of the fastest ever. It also had a much higher finishing percentage than normal. I believe the 2007 race had a finishing percentage of only 65%, much lower than this year's 80% (including those of us in the 12 to 13 hour bracket).
And I could be wrong, but I believe far fewer than 100 racers finished in under 9 hours last year.
I was the fifth person to come across the line after the 12-hour gunshot blast.
---
In other news, there was a lot of speculation about whether or not Lance would come back and race Leadville next year. That question was likely laid to rest today when he followed in the long line of athletes who come out of retirement shortly after realizing they have nothing else to do. That's right, Lance says he's entering the 2009 Tour de France. So, in all likelihood, Lance will not be racing Leadville. But if he does (highly unlikely), he's going to be more than fit enough to win after getting back into TDF shape.
No word on what team he's going to race with (my guess is Columbia or a Euro team... or Rock) but I'll still be pulling for Garmin Chipotle. After all, they're the tastiest! And speaking of Garmin Chipotle, I really hope they don't sign Lance. Let those boys who did the team so proud this year have their shot next year.
Official Starters: 890
Finishers < 9hrs: 114 (12.8%)
Finishers 9 to 12 hrs: 538 (60.4%)
Unofficial Finishers 12 to 13 hrs: 60 (6.7%)
Did Not Finish: 178 (20.0%)
By all accounts from those who would know, this year's race had the best conditions and was one of the fastest ever. It also had a much higher finishing percentage than normal. I believe the 2007 race had a finishing percentage of only 65%, much lower than this year's 80% (including those of us in the 12 to 13 hour bracket).
And I could be wrong, but I believe far fewer than 100 racers finished in under 9 hours last year.
I was the fifth person to come across the line after the 12-hour gunshot blast.
---
In other news, there was a lot of speculation about whether or not Lance would come back and race Leadville next year. That question was likely laid to rest today when he followed in the long line of athletes who come out of retirement shortly after realizing they have nothing else to do. That's right, Lance says he's entering the 2009 Tour de France. So, in all likelihood, Lance will not be racing Leadville. But if he does (highly unlikely), he's going to be more than fit enough to win after getting back into TDF shape.
No word on what team he's going to race with (my guess is Columbia or a Euro team... or Rock) but I'll still be pulling for Garmin Chipotle. After all, they're the tastiest! And speaking of Garmin Chipotle, I really hope they don't sign Lance. Let those boys who did the team so proud this year have their shot next year.
Ride Report: RAMROD
From Wikipedia:
It seems that my paucity of training and inability to sleep has finally caught up with me. My strong performance at the NPC ride 5 weeks ago led me to believe that I was in better shape than I really was and that RAMROD (Ride Around Mt. Rainier in One Day) would not be as difficult as it is. No, yesterday wasn't just a bad day. It was misery on wheels.
I tagged along with Dale, a guy I ride with on Thursdays, and some of his friends who I hadn't ever met before. We all share an aversion to waking up earlier than necessary so rather than start between 5am and 7am as is customary, the five of us rolled up to the starting line at 7:40am. The "sweep vehicle" would be our guide. Kind of funny since our leader had reportedly won the Mt. Baker Hill Climb. We would eventually pass quite a few people, some who started up to two hours before us, but not before enjoying a no-wait all-you-can-eat buffet at the first two aid stations we passed.
Our group dwindled to just Dale, Jeff (the hillclimb champ), and myself after 34 miles. One guy was feeling really awful and the other had to turn back cause his babysitter had a change of plans. And that is why you don't bring a cellphone on your bike rides, but I digress.
I was feeling great for the first 45 miles or so. I was eating and drinking well, my legs felt fresh, and other than a twinge in my achilles tendon, I felt on the ball. Then it suddenly went downhill. I couldn't keep up with Dale and Jeff. I had to drop my speed on the flats and was beginning to feel nauseus. My abdominal muscles were cramping, my neck and shoulders were stiff, and I had no energy. We weren't 50 miles into the ride and I was starting to inexplicably bonk. And we hadn't even done any of the climbing yet. I was in trouble.
The climb up to Paradise on the south side of Mt. Rainier was about 12 miles long, ascending roughly 2800 feet. Dale and Jeff pulled away from me and although I passed a number of people on this climb, I was hurting. I was barely going 6 mph and I was starting to have serious reservations about my ability to finish this ride. I eventually got to the top of the climb, loaded up on fruit and water, and readied myself for the descent. My comrades were enjoying the day, and didn't seem to mind waiting for me -- something I neither like people having to do for me, nor am very used to it. I decided to tell them my big secret: this was only my second ride over 60 miles this year. They didn't look amused.
The long, fast descent was fun, but it eventually brought us to another climb. This one was just a mile or two and didn't gain more than a thousand feet, but it was enough to confirm what I already knew: the climb up Cayuse Pass was going to bring me to my knees. And it did. Some 97 miles into the ride, the climb up Cayuse Pass began. Dale and Jeff pulled away and I was left to wobble back and forth up the road at a lowly 5 mph. The climb was over 6 miles in length and ascended over 2,000 feet in elevation and I was hurting. It was hot, I was rationing my water so as to not run out, and portions of the road were reduced to gravel due to ongoing construction work. I stopped less than halfway up to sit in the shade for a few minutes. Had I have seen a SAG wagon, I would have certainly flagged it down and put an end to the pain.
But I didn't see any SAG wagons so after a few minutes in the shade, I queesily got back on the bike and pedaled to the next aid station where, like an oasis in the desert, large quantities of water flowed freely. There's no telling how long Dale and Jeff were waiting but they were in good spirits and urged me on and not to give up. So I did. A few miles of climbing later, we reached the top of Cayuse Pass. 106 miles done, about 40 or so to go. And all downhill.
I was in such bad shape, that I thought of hitching a ride back to Enumclaw from the top of Cayuse Pass. I had done all of the hard work -- there would be only 300 feet of climbing in the last 45 miles -- so, I figured, there would be no shame in this DNF. Except there's always shame in a DNF I told myself and rolled out.
The descent from Cayuse Pass to Crystal Mountain was epic. The wind was a bit gusty, but these 10 miles were ticked through in less than 20 minutes. The Redmond Cycling Club that organizes this event, had made-to-order coldcut sandwiches and -- be still my heart -- ice-cold cans of Coca-Cola at the final aid station. We still had 30 miles to go, but I was finally thinking I just might finish this thing.
The three of us scorched the road back from Crystal Mountain, past Greenwater, towards Enumclaw. A heaven-sent tailwind (an absolute anomaly in this area) blessed us with an average speed of 23 mph for some 20 miles or so and I was even able to take a few 5-minute pulls at the lead. The final 10 miles were once again very rough for me. I was beyond bonking now. I was on the verge of tears, on the precipice of vomiting, and quite literally starting to wonder exactly what this effort was doing to my body. I started feeling the bonk some 7 hours prior and I continued to go on.
I was watching the odometer closely and when we turned onto Mud Mountain Road, I thought for sure we only had about 4 miles left. But when Jeff, who had done the ride multiple times before, said was had 12 to 15 miles to go, I nearly broke down sobbing. Well, at least that's how Dale said I looked. I was pretty confident Jeff was wrong and, it turned out he was.
Somehow, some way, I dragged my battered body 150 miles around Mt. Rainier National Park and did finish. The altimeter reported a cumulative elevation gain of just under 9,000 feet and, a total time (including some very lengthy rest stops) of just over 11 hours. And for those who like numbers, here's one more for you: I lost 6 pounds of body weight yesterday.
Yesterday was the 25th anniversary of the event. And it will be another 25 years before I do this again.
(and if I do, next time I might even train for it)
Race Photo.
Note: RAMROD really is a great event. It's incredibly well-organized, has great volunteers and takes cyclists through 150 miles of some of the most scenic countryside there is. Any negativity sensed in this account is directly strictly at myself. I knew I could "struggle through" this and finish and, to be honest, I thought I was in better shape than I was. Or maybe I just had a bad day. I don't know. But my sour mood and struggles yesterday were in no way a reflection of the event. It was the greatness of the event and the beauty of the scenery that lured me to keep on spinning the pedals 100 miles beyond where I wanted to stop. And I'm glad it did because the one thing I didn't see yesterday was my breaking point. I know it's out there somewhere, and I hope to never see it, but despite how slow yesterday was and how much I struggled, I'm damn proud of that finisher's patch.
Yesterday was not a good day for me: I bonked with over 100 miles to go. But still went.In endurance sports, particularly cycling and running, hitting the wall or the bonk describes the condition when an athlete suddenly loses energy and becomes fatigued, the result of glycogen stores in the liver and muscles becoming depleted.
It seems that my paucity of training and inability to sleep has finally caught up with me. My strong performance at the NPC ride 5 weeks ago led me to believe that I was in better shape than I really was and that RAMROD (Ride Around Mt. Rainier in One Day) would not be as difficult as it is. No, yesterday wasn't just a bad day. It was misery on wheels.
I tagged along with Dale, a guy I ride with on Thursdays, and some of his friends who I hadn't ever met before. We all share an aversion to waking up earlier than necessary so rather than start between 5am and 7am as is customary, the five of us rolled up to the starting line at 7:40am. The "sweep vehicle" would be our guide. Kind of funny since our leader had reportedly won the Mt. Baker Hill Climb. We would eventually pass quite a few people, some who started up to two hours before us, but not before enjoying a no-wait all-you-can-eat buffet at the first two aid stations we passed.
Our group dwindled to just Dale, Jeff (the hillclimb champ), and myself after 34 miles. One guy was feeling really awful and the other had to turn back cause his babysitter had a change of plans. And that is why you don't bring a cellphone on your bike rides, but I digress.
I was feeling great for the first 45 miles or so. I was eating and drinking well, my legs felt fresh, and other than a twinge in my achilles tendon, I felt on the ball. Then it suddenly went downhill. I couldn't keep up with Dale and Jeff. I had to drop my speed on the flats and was beginning to feel nauseus. My abdominal muscles were cramping, my neck and shoulders were stiff, and I had no energy. We weren't 50 miles into the ride and I was starting to inexplicably bonk. And we hadn't even done any of the climbing yet. I was in trouble.
The climb up to Paradise on the south side of Mt. Rainier was about 12 miles long, ascending roughly 2800 feet. Dale and Jeff pulled away from me and although I passed a number of people on this climb, I was hurting. I was barely going 6 mph and I was starting to have serious reservations about my ability to finish this ride. I eventually got to the top of the climb, loaded up on fruit and water, and readied myself for the descent. My comrades were enjoying the day, and didn't seem to mind waiting for me -- something I neither like people having to do for me, nor am very used to it. I decided to tell them my big secret: this was only my second ride over 60 miles this year. They didn't look amused.
The long, fast descent was fun, but it eventually brought us to another climb. This one was just a mile or two and didn't gain more than a thousand feet, but it was enough to confirm what I already knew: the climb up Cayuse Pass was going to bring me to my knees. And it did. Some 97 miles into the ride, the climb up Cayuse Pass began. Dale and Jeff pulled away and I was left to wobble back and forth up the road at a lowly 5 mph. The climb was over 6 miles in length and ascended over 2,000 feet in elevation and I was hurting. It was hot, I was rationing my water so as to not run out, and portions of the road were reduced to gravel due to ongoing construction work. I stopped less than halfway up to sit in the shade for a few minutes. Had I have seen a SAG wagon, I would have certainly flagged it down and put an end to the pain.
But I didn't see any SAG wagons so after a few minutes in the shade, I queesily got back on the bike and pedaled to the next aid station where, like an oasis in the desert, large quantities of water flowed freely. There's no telling how long Dale and Jeff were waiting but they were in good spirits and urged me on and not to give up. So I did. A few miles of climbing later, we reached the top of Cayuse Pass. 106 miles done, about 40 or so to go. And all downhill.
I was in such bad shape, that I thought of hitching a ride back to Enumclaw from the top of Cayuse Pass. I had done all of the hard work -- there would be only 300 feet of climbing in the last 45 miles -- so, I figured, there would be no shame in this DNF. Except there's always shame in a DNF I told myself and rolled out.
The descent from Cayuse Pass to Crystal Mountain was epic. The wind was a bit gusty, but these 10 miles were ticked through in less than 20 minutes. The Redmond Cycling Club that organizes this event, had made-to-order coldcut sandwiches and -- be still my heart -- ice-cold cans of Coca-Cola at the final aid station. We still had 30 miles to go, but I was finally thinking I just might finish this thing.
The three of us scorched the road back from Crystal Mountain, past Greenwater, towards Enumclaw. A heaven-sent tailwind (an absolute anomaly in this area) blessed us with an average speed of 23 mph for some 20 miles or so and I was even able to take a few 5-minute pulls at the lead. The final 10 miles were once again very rough for me. I was beyond bonking now. I was on the verge of tears, on the precipice of vomiting, and quite literally starting to wonder exactly what this effort was doing to my body. I started feeling the bonk some 7 hours prior and I continued to go on.
I was watching the odometer closely and when we turned onto Mud Mountain Road, I thought for sure we only had about 4 miles left. But when Jeff, who had done the ride multiple times before, said was had 12 to 15 miles to go, I nearly broke down sobbing. Well, at least that's how Dale said I looked. I was pretty confident Jeff was wrong and, it turned out he was.
Somehow, some way, I dragged my battered body 150 miles around Mt. Rainier National Park and did finish. The altimeter reported a cumulative elevation gain of just under 9,000 feet and, a total time (including some very lengthy rest stops) of just over 11 hours. And for those who like numbers, here's one more for you: I lost 6 pounds of body weight yesterday.
Yesterday was the 25th anniversary of the event. And it will be another 25 years before I do this again.
(and if I do, next time I might even train for it)
Race Photo.
Note: RAMROD really is a great event. It's incredibly well-organized, has great volunteers and takes cyclists through 150 miles of some of the most scenic countryside there is. Any negativity sensed in this account is directly strictly at myself. I knew I could "struggle through" this and finish and, to be honest, I thought I was in better shape than I was. Or maybe I just had a bad day. I don't know. But my sour mood and struggles yesterday were in no way a reflection of the event. It was the greatness of the event and the beauty of the scenery that lured me to keep on spinning the pedals 100 miles beyond where I wanted to stop. And I'm glad it did because the one thing I didn't see yesterday was my breaking point. I know it's out there somewhere, and I hope to never see it, but despite how slow yesterday was and how much I struggled, I'm damn proud of that finisher's patch.
Double-Dose of Good News
Found out that my wheel shipped out today and I should have it by next Thursday, just in time to leave on Saturday for Colorado.
Heard that RAMROD entry was closed and they had notified all of their wait-listed people who got in. If you hadn't heard, you didn't get in. I hadn't heard anything, but logged in to check my status anyway, just in case the email filters ate the confirmation and, sure enough, I was selected.
Next week, RAMROD!
First things first... gotta survive another trip down the Powerhouse Plunge. Have a good weekend everyone; I'll be in BC enjoying the first weekend out of my office since June.
Heard that RAMROD entry was closed and they had notified all of their wait-listed people who got in. If you hadn't heard, you didn't get in. I hadn't heard anything, but logged in to check my status anyway, just in case the email filters ate the confirmation and, sure enough, I was selected.
Next week, RAMROD!
First things first... gotta survive another trip down the Powerhouse Plunge. Have a good weekend everyone; I'll be in BC enjoying the first weekend out of my office since June.
RAMROD Waiting List Update
Unlike for the Leadville 100 mountain bike race, I didn't win a lottery spot for RAMROD (Ride Around Mount Rainier in One Day). In fact I was originally #248 on the waiting list. I was told to not worry, that a lot of people decide to cancel, and that almost everyone on the waiting list gets in. Albeit, with 3 days notice.
With the bike ride just two weeks from today, I decided to check my status. I'm up to #118 on the waiting list. I suspect as the day draws nearer, more and more folks will realize they're not in the shape they wanted to be in for it and decide to withdraw. That's probably what I should do -- my mileage has been scant -- but I've already had to miss CCP, so I might as well struggle through RAMROD.
How hard can it be?
With the bike ride just two weeks from today, I decided to check my status. I'm up to #118 on the waiting list. I suspect as the day draws nearer, more and more folks will realize they're not in the shape they wanted to be in for it and decide to withdraw. That's probably what I should do -- my mileage has been scant -- but I've already had to miss CCP, so I might as well struggle through RAMROD.
How hard can it be?
Super Torture Super Century
The crazy hill-loving Frenchman who brought us the Native Planet Classic this past weekend is leading a 127 mile King County jaunt this weekend (with 13,000 feet of climbing). I spoke with J-Phillipe about this ride on Saturday and he said that of the 100 or so who attempted it last year, only 12 finished.
If you're interested in the route, check it out right here.
I'll be sitting this one out.
Be among the first to ride the epic super-century that all PNW cyclists will soon be talking about! All experienced riders, regardless of their physical fitness, will find both distance and hills that will challenge them, but with an option they may survive. The Native Planet Super Torture—Super Century is by far the most challenging ride in the Seattle area. In 2007 less than 12% of those who attempted it were able to finish it. The fastest people took 11 hours to ride the entire course. Climbers, if you think you can go the distance, here is a challenge for you! Invite all your friends to come and ride with us on this challenging local ride. Choose the metric century (60 miles), the super-century (127 miles) or from many other options, and test yourself on the region's best hills.
If you're interested in the route, check it out right here.
I'll be sitting this one out.
Photos from the Methow Valley
My ride report from the Native Planet Classic is below. I'll upload some more to Flick'r later on tonight, but here are the highlights. Click the photos to see a larger version.
Kristin shot this of me rolling into the food stop at 83 miles.This was the worst I felt all day.
Cresting the final major climb to Washington Pass (for the second time of the day).
Checking out the scenery behind me during the descent.
I took this photo and the one below it on Sunday during our drive home. This was just east of Washington Pass and I both climbed and descended this stretch on Saturday.
Much more fun going down than coming up!
We camped along the Methow River, just upstream from Twisp. Kayaked down the river on Sunday from Winthrop and beached the boats just steps from the tent. 
Methow Valley scenery. You can see the river we kayaked in the foreground.
Ride Report: Native Planet Classic
My longest bicycle ride of the year thus far was the 56 miles I rode with the group out of Singletrack Cycles last Thursday. Not one to wade into things, I cast aside the swimmies, held my breath, pinched my nose shut, and took a head-first dive into the deep end of the cycling pool just two days later when I embarked on the Native Planet Classic, a 125-mile road ride with 10,000 feet of elevation gain. And I hereby impose a moratorium on all cliched swimming metaphors.
The ride was an out-and-back starting and finishing in the little town of Winthrop in the Methow Valley, one of my favorite places on Earth (or at least in Washington), and making its way through the North Cascades to Diablo Lake. The starting point on the north end of Winthrop was at 1,760 feet above sea level and the turnaround point at Colonial Creek Campground was at an elevation of 1,290. Between them stood Washington Pass, peering out above the valleys from a vantage point of 5,470 feet.
Gulp.
Click to enlarge.There were several ride options for the 130 or so cyclists in attendance. Naturally, being the type of guy whose two frame-mounted water bottles are consistently filled with piss and vinegar, I opted for the whole enchilada. I also wanted to ride alone and figured my morale would benefit from a day spent passing others than vice-versa so I chose to ignore the 5:30 suggested starting time and began my ride at 6:15 instead. But I still didn't have time for a cup of coffee.
The first 17 miles or so led out of Winthrop on lightly rolling terrain. Your basic sagebrush-speckled landscape with towering snow-capped peaks in the distance. That and a couple of dead mule deer on the side of the road. Kristin kissed me goodbye at the starting line and went off on a 15-mile run around Winthrop and out to Pearrygin Lake State Park. I wasn't five miles into the ride and was already far more uncomfortable on the bike than I had expected to be. If I had my cell phone with me, I may have called her and asked for a pick-up, but I didn't so I kept riding. And the pain eventually subsided... either that or my nether-regions grew numb to it.
I eventually passed a sign that read: Avoid Radiator Boil-Over Turn Off Air Conditioning. The translation for cyclists is simple: Large Doses of Pain Ahead Turn Around If You Have Any Sense! Of course, the sign wasn't really necessary since it only took a glance out in front of me to see that the road was kicking up pretty steeply and since this was all in the name of training for the Leadville 100, how could I possibly turn back? No, I kept going and over the next 15 miles I climbed along with Route 20 from an elevation of about 2,000 feet to nearly 5,500. No reprieves. No mid-climb descents to catch your breath on. Just one continuous climb that only steepened as you rose. And the rewards at the top were incredible. Oh, sure, the views were fantastic, but the food stop had a giant thermos of hot coffee. I would have climbed a mountain for a fresh cup of joe at that point. Oh, wait I just did.
The descent was incredible. There was very little traffic, WADOT swept the roads free of rocks and debris before the event, and the sightlines were great. Being that the trailheads around the pass were still snowed in (this section of Route 20 is closed for 5 months of the year due to snow) I knew to bring my knee warmers, arm warmers, and a lightweight cycling jacket and I needed all of it during the descent down the west side from Washington Pass. The temperature couldn't have been above 50 degrees in the pass and I was cruising along at 35mph for much of the descent. It warmed up slightly below 4,500 feet then got really warm below 3,000 feet, but the sudden blast of cold air from nearby waterfalls and creeks was enough to give an instant case of goosebumps.
I clicked off the 32 miles between Washington Pass and Diablo Lake in little over an hour, despite two more small climbs during the descent. The final drop from the Ross Lake Dam trailhead down to Diablo Lake was the best of all. The road sign showed curves ahead and a suggested speed limit of 30mph. I glanced over my shoulder and saw no cars on my tail, so I moved to the center of the lane and carved the S-turns at around 38mph and was hooting-and-hollering the whole way. It wasn't as much fun as mountain biking, but it was definitely the most fun I've ever had on a road bike.
Native Planet's leader Jean-Philippe was waiting at the turnaround point with tons of homemade sandwich wraps and other assorted foods and drinks. Nutritionwise, I had been making a point of drinking Nuun every 10 minutes and eating a couple Cliff Bloks or a Gu every 10 miles and, of course, supplementing this with fruit and extras at the aid stations. I didn't plan on eating a turkey wrap, but damn it tasted good after 4 hours on the bike.
I expected the act of turning around and retracing the 62 miles back over the pass to Winthrop to be a bit harder to come to grips with than it was. I was in good spirits and feeling great on the bike (a 30-mile descent will do that), but this soaring high quickly blew away when faced with the massive headwind we were now encountering. Kristin was planning to meet me at the return-trip aid station at Easy Pass, roughly 21 miles after the turnaround point and I was really looking forward to seeing her. The climb back out from the lakes was dismal. I was using that 27-tooth cog I installed the prior night and battling to keep the speedometer above 5mph on account of the wind. I had passed dozens of riders on the out-bound portion, but was now gaining on nobody. The climb to Easy Pass took forever and I was all but out of water when I got there -- just 21 miles and I went through 40 ounces of Nuun -- but I did finally roll into the aid station and Kristin was there to give me some fruit and a couple of Advil. 83 miles down, 12 more miles of climbing to go, then it's all downhill.
The nice thing about this ride was knowing that the last 31 miles were quite literally all downhill. Sure, there were a couple bumps to get up and over on the ride into Winthrop, but nothing worth mentioning. So, with this in mind, I grit my teeth and mashed my way up the final 12 miles to the top of Washington Pass for the second time of the day. The clouds had rolled in, it was starting to rain, and it was damn cold at the pass, but the coffee was still hot and Kristin had one of my cans of V8 and some of that salty "giardia snack mix."
Kristin would later tell me she was proud of me for not climbing into the truck and hitching a ride back into town, especially since the rain was picking up. My response was one of shock, "I didn't spend 3 hours pedaling up this damn mountain to not get a chance to ride down the other side!"
That descent proved mighty scary. The rain abated once I got back below 4,000 feet but the wind didn't. I'm a bit timid on the bike at high speeds but was feeling pretty confident this day and decided to really open it up on a lengthy straightaway. Just as I was cranking up the speed and watching the speedometer tick past 42mph, I got blasted with a vicious cross-wind. I swerved mightily, my heart leapt into my throat, and images of Beloki's infamous crash leapt to the center of my mind. I was nearly blown completely off the bike, but I somehow recovered. Fortunately. I eased it back below 35mph and allowed my heartrate to recover and was thankful to roll back into Winthrop in one piece.
I covered the 125 mile course completely alone, not drafting for a single moment, and just enjoying the scenery and the music playing in my right-ear. I spent over an hour at the various food and water stations and finished with a total time of 9:12, a far cry from my nearly sub-5:00 century ride last summer in Redmond, but this course most certainly earned its "Super Century" title.
This is a good time to note that Native Planet is a non-profit organization working with various foreign NGOs to preserve indigenous cultures around the world, particularly in the jungles of Indonesia. You can read more about Native Planet's mission and the other bicycle tours the group leads right here. The organization's leader Jean-Philippe Soule is a super nice guy, and is a valuable asset to the Seattle cycling community, as well as the world community at large. Definitely stop by their website and check out what they do. And if you're thinking of doing the NPC next year, do it! I totally recommend this event. The support was fantastic, the organizers and volunteers were super-friendly, and the post-ride dinner was a very pleasant addition.
Lastly, I want to thank my sponsors BradyGames and Singletrack Cycles for their help in making these endeavours possible. Thanks everyone, especially you Kristin!
Note: I'll have some photos posted from the ride tomorrow. Kristin and I camped the weekend near Twisp and kayaked the Methow River on Sunday before breaking camp and taking the scenic route back home through the North Cascades. A fantastic weekend.
Same Bike New Wheels
Late last week, before flying to NJ, I went into Singletrack Cycles to take a look at their assortment of road bikes and before I knew it, I was being fitted to a spectacular 2008 Trek Madone that, even with the absurd deal I was offered, was still out of my price-range for what I consider the necessary evil of road biking. The combination of being a deal I couldn't refuse and the sextacular look of the bike weakened my knees and being that I was lining myself up for a month of sleeping on the couch (or in a tent in the yard), I figured I'd get some new shoes as well.
As luck would have it, the bike was too small. I told Loren that my other bikes were all size 60cm, but he was positive I'd fit on a 58cm. Nope. The only bike they had in my size was a low-end Trek that simply wouldn't cut it. I was running late to meet Kristin and friends to see the play, so I skipped out without further negotiations.
And I was glad I did because at best, I would have ridden the bike and suffered the blow to our finances and, at worse, I would have sold it in the fall and inadvertently totally taken advantage of the generosity afforded me by the owners of the shop. I didn't want either of those situations to take place. Not to mention, Kristin and I have been talking an awful lot about building up a pair of touring bikes for next year.
I returned to the shop the next day and this time decided I simply wanted to put a pair of stiff, lightweight wheels on my existing bike. It turned out that all of the flex I was experiencing on my Scattante R-660 was not due to the frame -- it's aluminum after all -- but rather due to the very cheap wheels it shipped with. Again, Loren and Brandon offered me a great deal on a set of '07 Bontrager Race Lite wheels and, to this, I happily swiped the plastic. They're not a super lightweight racing wheel by any means, but they are a fine wheel for my purposes.
So I went to retrieve my bike from the queu at Performance Bike where I left it for the free tune-up they offer. And that's when I realized I made a terrible mistake in an earlier post when I was talking about running a 30 tooth cog and wanting a 32. Rubbish. My bike actually came with a 12-25t 10-speed Ultegra cassette, not a 30t. Rather than counting the teeth, I was looking at the inscription on the cog and some gobbleygook looked like it said 30. It didn't. They didn't have any 12-27 cassettes in stock, so I picked up another 12-25t and a new chain and was out the door, dragging my still-limping bike behind me.
I mounted up the new cassette, chain, and wheels last night and something seemed very wrong. The front wheel was great, but there was a problem with the skewer in the rear hub that basically caused the rear wheel not to spin. I thought it was just me making another bone-headed bicycle mechanic move so I brought everything over to Singletrack Cycles today. Loren dropped what he was doing to look at it -- I didn't do anything wrong, there's a problem in the hub. I left the bike with him and two hours later got a call saying he swapped the suspect wheel out for one of the 08's they had on another bike. Problem solved.
When I picked it up I also made sure to get the new shoes and pedals I was going to put on the Madone. I've been wearing the same beat-up pair of Sidi road shoes since 1998 and with the Native Planet Classic and RAMROD on the calendar -- and memories of the pain I suffered during last year's STP still fresh in my mind -- I figured I was do. The new Ultegra pedals offer a fantastically wide platform to clip into and the Specialized Pro Carbon shoes are not only very comfortable, but also very light and stiff. A fine investment that, hopefully, will last at least half as long as my Sidis.
****
So how did it all go? I took my suped-up fake Italian bike out for a 20 mile group ride tonight and it felt great. The bike is definitely stiffer and even feels a little lighter too. Acceleration is great. Erik took us up Uplands Way in North Bend -- a hill that he's been tauting me with for quite some time. It climbs about 600 feet in 1.4 miles so, essentially, it's just like Tolt Hill Road in Carnation. The difference, however, is that this road has incredible mountain views, is very smooth, and passes multi-million dollar gated estates.
I felt very sluggish on the climb and I can't tell if that was because I hadn't ridden in 10 days or because I pushed too hard early in the climb, but I was definitely expecting a crew of folks to pass me halfway up the hill. Nobody did, so perhaps it was imagination, but I'm definitely counting the teeth on that cassette tomorrow to make sure it does in fact have 25 of them.
And I'm ordering a 12-27t for next weekend's trip through the North Cascades either way. I don't have a compact drivetrain on this bike and with four mountain passes to climb, I'm going to want a bail-out ring.
I leave tomorrow for the Test of Metal in Squamish, BC. Fortunately, this time I have someone carpooling with me and will not only save some money in gas, but he's splitting the room with me too.
Lets hope I can finally get a good race under my belt this year and get a jump on the rest of the summer events. Have a good weekend and happy father's day to the dads among you.
As luck would have it, the bike was too small. I told Loren that my other bikes were all size 60cm, but he was positive I'd fit on a 58cm. Nope. The only bike they had in my size was a low-end Trek that simply wouldn't cut it. I was running late to meet Kristin and friends to see the play, so I skipped out without further negotiations.
And I was glad I did because at best, I would have ridden the bike and suffered the blow to our finances and, at worse, I would have sold it in the fall and inadvertently totally taken advantage of the generosity afforded me by the owners of the shop. I didn't want either of those situations to take place. Not to mention, Kristin and I have been talking an awful lot about building up a pair of touring bikes for next year.
I returned to the shop the next day and this time decided I simply wanted to put a pair of stiff, lightweight wheels on my existing bike. It turned out that all of the flex I was experiencing on my Scattante R-660 was not due to the frame -- it's aluminum after all -- but rather due to the very cheap wheels it shipped with. Again, Loren and Brandon offered me a great deal on a set of '07 Bontrager Race Lite wheels and, to this, I happily swiped the plastic. They're not a super lightweight racing wheel by any means, but they are a fine wheel for my purposes.
So I went to retrieve my bike from the queu at Performance Bike where I left it for the free tune-up they offer. And that's when I realized I made a terrible mistake in an earlier post when I was talking about running a 30 tooth cog and wanting a 32. Rubbish. My bike actually came with a 12-25t 10-speed Ultegra cassette, not a 30t. Rather than counting the teeth, I was looking at the inscription on the cog and some gobbleygook looked like it said 30. It didn't. They didn't have any 12-27 cassettes in stock, so I picked up another 12-25t and a new chain and was out the door, dragging my still-limping bike behind me.
I mounted up the new cassette, chain, and wheels last night and something seemed very wrong. The front wheel was great, but there was a problem with the skewer in the rear hub that basically caused the rear wheel not to spin. I thought it was just me making another bone-headed bicycle mechanic move so I brought everything over to Singletrack Cycles today. Loren dropped what he was doing to look at it -- I didn't do anything wrong, there's a problem in the hub. I left the bike with him and two hours later got a call saying he swapped the suspect wheel out for one of the 08's they had on another bike. Problem solved.
When I picked it up I also made sure to get the new shoes and pedals I was going to put on the Madone. I've been wearing the same beat-up pair of Sidi road shoes since 1998 and with the Native Planet Classic and RAMROD on the calendar -- and memories of the pain I suffered during last year's STP still fresh in my mind -- I figured I was do. The new Ultegra pedals offer a fantastically wide platform to clip into and the Specialized Pro Carbon shoes are not only very comfortable, but also very light and stiff. A fine investment that, hopefully, will last at least half as long as my Sidis.
****
So how did it all go? I took my suped-up fake Italian bike out for a 20 mile group ride tonight and it felt great. The bike is definitely stiffer and even feels a little lighter too. Acceleration is great. Erik took us up Uplands Way in North Bend -- a hill that he's been tauting me with for quite some time. It climbs about 600 feet in 1.4 miles so, essentially, it's just like Tolt Hill Road in Carnation. The difference, however, is that this road has incredible mountain views, is very smooth, and passes multi-million dollar gated estates.
I felt very sluggish on the climb and I can't tell if that was because I hadn't ridden in 10 days or because I pushed too hard early in the climb, but I was definitely expecting a crew of folks to pass me halfway up the hill. Nobody did, so perhaps it was imagination, but I'm definitely counting the teeth on that cassette tomorrow to make sure it does in fact have 25 of them.
And I'm ordering a 12-27t for next weekend's trip through the North Cascades either way. I don't have a compact drivetrain on this bike and with four mountain passes to climb, I'm going to want a bail-out ring.
I leave tomorrow for the Test of Metal in Squamish, BC. Fortunately, this time I have someone carpooling with me and will not only save some money in gas, but he's splitting the room with me too.
Lets hope I can finally get a good race under my belt this year and get a jump on the rest of the summer events. Have a good weekend and happy father's day to the dads among you.
Million Dollar Bike
Super aerodynamic track bike that reportedly cost $1,000,000 to develop for Theo Boss, a Dutch Olympic track specialist.
Watch the video on Yahoo right here.
Watch the video on Yahoo right here.
Bikey Stuff
Managed to get 7 days on the bike (sort-of) in a row and although I have some slight remnants of the cough and am still a bit stuffy, I feel good. I was hoping to get a longer ride in today, but the rain is coming down and it's not too warm outside. If it wouldn't be my 8th straight day on the bike and I wasn't trying to ward off pneumonia, I'd do it anyway, but I think I'll settle for a session with Coach Troy and his painful Strendurance videos.
I spent this weekend riding with the Director of State Parks, the Commissioners, some rangers, a Regional Manager, and many of their spouses. It was a great opportunity to be an ambassador for the mountain biking community here in Washington and to discuss ways in which the State Parks system could advance recreational opportunities for mountain bikers. We rode roughly 28 miles of the John Wayne Pioneer Trail (a cross-state railroad corridor that has been converted to trail) on Saturday through beautiful Yakima Canyon and then met back up on Sunday morning right down the road in North Bend to ride a snow-free section here on the west side of the pass.
You can read my full report from the weekend right here. And see some photos here and here.
I hurried home after my ride with the State Parks officials on Sunday and took Kristin down to Henry's Ridge to get out on some singletrack. I had forgotten how many switchbacks there were down there so it was a bit more advanced than I wanted. Nevertheless, despite a number of falls (Kristin is riding clipless pedals) and some prolonged hyper-ventilation due to nervousness, she eventually settled into a nice groove and got the hang of it. I rode along in front of her calling out wheel placement and when to coast, sit, stand, pedal and after a short break on a gravel path she was able to climb back into the woods and make it all the way down one of the trails without any hiccups -- she even cleaned the switchbacks and made it over the roots without falling! I was very happy.
We just have to work on her self-sufficiency. As in, making sure she has her wallet with her so the next time we get carded in the bar of a Mexican restaurant afterwards, we can still have a beer and watch the Mariners game and not be forced into the dining room with the screaming children.
Kristin is signed up for this weekend's "Boot Camp" mountain biking school and is then going to go on a beginner's ride at Tolt with my friend Erik on Sunday. Tolt can be a pretty technical place for beginners due to the tight twists and turns and plethora of roots, but I trust Erik will keep the pace slow and select a tame bunch of trails for the Boot Camp grads that will be accompanying him.
I dropped my road bike off at Performance Bike yesterday to get the free warranty tune-up, get a new rear cassette and chain on it, and to get the rear wheel repaired. Turns out the rear wheel is toast. I bent it beyond repair on Friday's ride (I suspected as much). Also, I'm told I can't go to a 32-tooth rear cog (for RAMROD) without going to long-cage rear derailleur.
So here's the dilemma, do I sink upwards of $400 worth of new wheels and drivetrain parts onto a bike I purchased for $950 (originally listed at $1899) when I'm already unhappy with how weak the frame is and how badly it flexes at the bottom bracket when I'm pedaling hard or do I look for a new road bike?
With half the drivetrain (again, for RAMROD) and wheels (I no longer trust the front wheel and don't want a mis-matched pair) needing replacing there's little money to save by buying a new frame and moving over the crankset and brakes. Especially since most bikes that can be bought as a frame only tend to be a bit higher end. I don't need a high-end road bike, just something to do some training on and the occasional century ride. But I don't want an ugly franken-bike either. I have to want to ride it.
I'd be happy to stick with my budget store-brand Scattante bike if the frame was stiffer at the bottom bracket, but looking down and seeing the frame flex so much laterally doesn't instill much confidence, not to mention it wastes a ton of energy and has gotten to be a sore spot for me when I'm riding.
This isn't a decision I can make slowly, as each day that passes without a working road bike is another day closer to the Native Planet Classic and RAMROD.
I spent this weekend riding with the Director of State Parks, the Commissioners, some rangers, a Regional Manager, and many of their spouses. It was a great opportunity to be an ambassador for the mountain biking community here in Washington and to discuss ways in which the State Parks system could advance recreational opportunities for mountain bikers. We rode roughly 28 miles of the John Wayne Pioneer Trail (a cross-state railroad corridor that has been converted to trail) on Saturday through beautiful Yakima Canyon and then met back up on Sunday morning right down the road in North Bend to ride a snow-free section here on the west side of the pass.
You can read my full report from the weekend right here. And see some photos here and here.
I hurried home after my ride with the State Parks officials on Sunday and took Kristin down to Henry's Ridge to get out on some singletrack. I had forgotten how many switchbacks there were down there so it was a bit more advanced than I wanted. Nevertheless, despite a number of falls (Kristin is riding clipless pedals) and some prolonged hyper-ventilation due to nervousness, she eventually settled into a nice groove and got the hang of it. I rode along in front of her calling out wheel placement and when to coast, sit, stand, pedal and after a short break on a gravel path she was able to climb back into the woods and make it all the way down one of the trails without any hiccups -- she even cleaned the switchbacks and made it over the roots without falling! I was very happy.
We just have to work on her self-sufficiency. As in, making sure she has her wallet with her so the next time we get carded in the bar of a Mexican restaurant afterwards, we can still have a beer and watch the Mariners game and not be forced into the dining room with the screaming children.
Kristin is signed up for this weekend's "Boot Camp" mountain biking school and is then going to go on a beginner's ride at Tolt with my friend Erik on Sunday. Tolt can be a pretty technical place for beginners due to the tight twists and turns and plethora of roots, but I trust Erik will keep the pace slow and select a tame bunch of trails for the Boot Camp grads that will be accompanying him.
I dropped my road bike off at Performance Bike yesterday to get the free warranty tune-up, get a new rear cassette and chain on it, and to get the rear wheel repaired. Turns out the rear wheel is toast. I bent it beyond repair on Friday's ride (I suspected as much). Also, I'm told I can't go to a 32-tooth rear cog (for RAMROD) without going to long-cage rear derailleur.
So here's the dilemma, do I sink upwards of $400 worth of new wheels and drivetrain parts onto a bike I purchased for $950 (originally listed at $1899) when I'm already unhappy with how weak the frame is and how badly it flexes at the bottom bracket when I'm pedaling hard or do I look for a new road bike?
With half the drivetrain (again, for RAMROD) and wheels (I no longer trust the front wheel and don't want a mis-matched pair) needing replacing there's little money to save by buying a new frame and moving over the crankset and brakes. Especially since most bikes that can be bought as a frame only tend to be a bit higher end. I don't need a high-end road bike, just something to do some training on and the occasional century ride. But I don't want an ugly franken-bike either. I have to want to ride it.
I'd be happy to stick with my budget store-brand Scattante bike if the frame was stiffer at the bottom bracket, but looking down and seeing the frame flex so much laterally doesn't instill much confidence, not to mention it wastes a ton of energy and has gotten to be a sore spot for me when I'm riding.
This isn't a decision I can make slowly, as each day that passes without a working road bike is another day closer to the Native Planet Classic and RAMROD.
Mayday, Mayday! Bike Karma Strikes Back
I sold my full-suspension Giant NRS C2 the other day. I didn't enjoy riding it anymore -- didn't even feel safe on the 26" wheels anymore after spending a year on the bigger hoops -- and wanted to help offset the cost of the bike we bought Kristin two weeks ago. Of course, our good pal Murphy and his stupid laws ensured that the front fork started leaking fluid during the buyer's test ride. D'oh! He also noticed that the "small amount of cable rub" on the frame was all but completely through the carbon fibre. Double d'oh! Had to come down off my $750 asking price a little bit, but I'm happy to be gone with it.
Of course, getting rid of one bike automatically ensures problems on another. Murphy you rat-bastard!
I woke up really looking forward to getting in a nice long road ride, but as the day wore on I started feeling like maybe I should just ease back into riding more slowly and rest for the weekend. But no, that's the fear talking! The fear of getting sick again.
Of course, getting rid of one bike automatically ensures problems on another. Murphy you rat-bastard!
I woke up really looking forward to getting in a nice long road ride, but as the day wore on I started feeling like maybe I should just ease back into riding more slowly and rest for the weekend. But no, that's the fear talking! The fear of getting sick again.
And fear does not exist in this dojo!
Umm, yes sensei?
Moving right along...
It was almost 4pm and I decided enough was enough, I'd go for a ride. I had planned to do my normal 45-mile Carnation loop and add onto it with a trip up Issaquah-Fall City Road and maybe even do a second pass over Tolt Hill Road for kicks.
This is probably a good time to mention that I forgot my cell phone in my office. I noticed I had forgotten it about a 1/4 mile from my house but decided it wasn't worth going back for.
Strike 1: I get a flat about 8 miles into the ride. My first flat on the road bike in two years. I plucked the little piece of metal shrapnel out of the tire, replace the tube, and keep on going. I have a nice spin up the hilly Issy-Fall City Road and zip along down Duthie Hill before returning to the farming lanes near the river.
Strike 2: As I'm preparing to turn onto Tolt Hill Road, construction workers tell me the bridge over the Snoqualmie River won't be reopened until 7pm. That means if I do my normal route, I'll either A) Be forced to sit for an hour and wait for the bridge to open, B) make a jailbreak-style sprint across the bridge and hope construction workers don't clothesline me into the drink, or C) turn around and retrace my route. A fourth option, riding on the 3-inch shoulder of Route 203 is not really viable.
I decide to continue the route as normal, up and over Tolt Hill Road, over Ames Lake Road, and back around to the other side of the bridge in Carnation. If I get there early, I'll just turn around and retrace my route and maybe even push the ride to 65 or 70 miles. Bonus miles! "It'll be fine, I'll stop at the Shell station to buy some drinks or snacks if I need more food," I thought to myself.
Strike 3: I get to Carnation's lone gas station and turn the bike into the driveway. There was a bit of a lip, I was going about 20mph, and somehow I hit the bump on just the right (i.e. wrong) angle and completely bent my rear wheel. I opened the brakes all the way, tried repositioning the brakes, tried adjusting the wheel in the drop-outs, but nothing worked. The wheel won't spin more than 1/4 revolution without coming to a halt. By car, I'm about 16 miles from home. With the bridge out and there being no shoulder on Route 203, I'm a good 25 miles or so from home.
No problem, Kristin should be on her way home from school, I'll just call her.
Oh, right, I didn't bring a cell phone today.
Fortunately, the clerk inside the Shell station's convenience store leant me his personal cell phone and I got in touch with Kristin just as she was approaching the Preston/Fall City exit -- the very one she'd need to take. She's absolutely awful with directions -- I mean breathtakingly bad at navigating -- but for the first time ever, she got it on the first try and rolled into the Shell station just 20 minutes later. I was starting to get a little cold, but a bag of Doritos and two Reese's Fast Break candy bars made the wait a bit more enjoyable than you might expect.
Nonetheless, I can't help but think my bikes are mad at me for selling the Giant. I've never had a problem with a road bike before -- not even when I went over the handlebars at 30+ mph so many years ago -- but to bend a wheel into inoperable shape by going up a gas station driveway? Absurd! Yeah, I know it's no more absurd than thinking my bikes are ganging up on me, but I'm nervous. What if the Moots or the single-speed are plotting similar, er, plots?
I have an all-day ride planned tomorrow with the Director of Washington State Parks and the parks' Commissioners. Naturally, I'll be riding the Moots. But what if it decides to suffer a sudden twilight-zone implosion too? Not only will it really throw a damper on the ride, but we'll be hours from home. What if it decides to do so in one of the old railroad tunnels we'll be riding through? I don't know what's worse: the thought of crashing into the wall of soot-stained railroad tunnel or having to try and give Kristin directions to a bike trail hours from home.
Perhaps it's time to buy my baby a Garmin?
The Week in Review
Not exactly the week as planned, but all in all not too shabby. I took Monday and Tuesday off the bike as planned, and was on schedule through Wednesday then the wheels came off.
Wednesday: Road Bike - 27 miles, 1654 feet of climbing.
Did a pretty standard loop through Snoqualmie and North Bend while trying to keep myself at a comfortable, relaxed pace. Ended up time-trialing the climb up Snoqualmie Parkway and setting a new P.R. for myself (8:23).
Thursday: Mountain Bike - 35 miles, 2661 feet of climbing.
Was planning on doing two laps of the Thrilla in Woodinvilla course, but that didn't happen. Did the first lap in the reverse direction then, during the second lap, some newcomers got lost and I went looking for them. Couldn't find them, got pissed off at the group dynamics and utter lack of communication and leadership on the ride and, essentially, took my ball and went home. Ended up just turning around and riding in reverse back to Redhook.
Friday: Mountain Bike - 35 miles, 3731 feet of climbing.
Woke up with a very sore throat and swollen glands in my throat that were painful to the touch, and even hurt when I turned my head. Oh well, gotta ride anyway! The plan was to ride to Grand Ridge and back then tack on a trip to Rattlesnake Lake and make this a 60+ mile ride. I posted the Grand Ridge portion of the ride to the BBTC calendar and despite posting it as a "moderate paced" ride, I was joined by a 53 year old lady who, despite having some pretty good stamina, is very timid on the bike. Don't get me wrong, she's a good rider and I only wish my own parents were as fit as she, but I think she'd be best served sticking to the "social paced" rides. I normally do the Grand Ridge out-and-back in about 90 minutes or so, but it ended up taking about 2.5 hours today (nearly an hour of paused time for me). It ended up getting pretty late and Kristin and I were going out to dinner so I had to skip the Rattlesnake Lake portion of the ride and call it a day at 35 miles.
Saturday: Mountain Bike - 67 miles, 3806 feet of climbing.
Throat still sore, glands still swollen, temps in the upper 40's and forecast calls for on and off rain showers. A fine day for a planned 90+ mile epic! Not exactly. My feet started getting cold about 8 miles into the ride, but I was hopeful the sun would eventually break through and provide some warmth. I was attempting to ride to the Thrilla course from home and do two laps around the 20 mile training loop. I was loaded up with a ton of food and water to endure 8 hours or so of riding, self-supported. I climbed the wrong road up and over the ridge trying to connect to the Thrilla loop and had to return back to the valley road. I tried the next road, looking to connect with the pipeline trail, but failed again. I ignored a few private property signs and punched through some woods and came out on the side of a golf course. Oops. Eventually found some woodchip trails with tell-tale horse tracks and figured those horse tracks would no doubt lead me to the pipeline trail and, sure enough, they did. The rain was coming down pretty good while on the Thrilla course and my feet were totally numb. I figured that if the rains stopped and the sun came out and my feet warmed up, I would do the second lap. That never happened, my feet stayed ice-cold, and I was losing a lot of energy out my feet. I felt great otherwise and was keeping to my plan of maintaining a HR around 125-135, but I had to bail after one lap and make the long uphill slog back home. I didn't ride as much as I wanted, but I'm not going to dismiss 6+ hours of pure saddle time as a failure. It was a good, albeit painful, day.
Sunday - Nothing
It's going to be a beautiful day today. Sunny, temps in the upper 60's, no rain. But my throat is still sore, the glands are still swollen, and I have a race next weekend in British Columbia. I was scheduled to do a 100 mile road bike ride today, and I really want to, but I know it's just not wise to push it too much if I might be coming down with a cold. It's only 3 weeks to 24 Hours of Spokane. So, instead, I'll sit inside and work and hopefully feel a bit better for tomorrow and maybe do a long ride then.
*Two consecutive weeks of 11,000+ feet of climbing!!! That makes me feel happy.
Wednesday: Road Bike - 27 miles, 1654 feet of climbing.
Did a pretty standard loop through Snoqualmie and North Bend while trying to keep myself at a comfortable, relaxed pace. Ended up time-trialing the climb up Snoqualmie Parkway and setting a new P.R. for myself (8:23).
Thursday: Mountain Bike - 35 miles, 2661 feet of climbing.
Was planning on doing two laps of the Thrilla in Woodinvilla course, but that didn't happen. Did the first lap in the reverse direction then, during the second lap, some newcomers got lost and I went looking for them. Couldn't find them, got pissed off at the group dynamics and utter lack of communication and leadership on the ride and, essentially, took my ball and went home. Ended up just turning around and riding in reverse back to Redhook.
Friday: Mountain Bike - 35 miles, 3731 feet of climbing.
Woke up with a very sore throat and swollen glands in my throat that were painful to the touch, and even hurt when I turned my head. Oh well, gotta ride anyway! The plan was to ride to Grand Ridge and back then tack on a trip to Rattlesnake Lake and make this a 60+ mile ride. I posted the Grand Ridge portion of the ride to the BBTC calendar and despite posting it as a "moderate paced" ride, I was joined by a 53 year old lady who, despite having some pretty good stamina, is very timid on the bike. Don't get me wrong, she's a good rider and I only wish my own parents were as fit as she, but I think she'd be best served sticking to the "social paced" rides. I normally do the Grand Ridge out-and-back in about 90 minutes or so, but it ended up taking about 2.5 hours today (nearly an hour of paused time for me). It ended up getting pretty late and Kristin and I were going out to dinner so I had to skip the Rattlesnake Lake portion of the ride and call it a day at 35 miles.
Saturday: Mountain Bike - 67 miles, 3806 feet of climbing.
Throat still sore, glands still swollen, temps in the upper 40's and forecast calls for on and off rain showers. A fine day for a planned 90+ mile epic! Not exactly. My feet started getting cold about 8 miles into the ride, but I was hopeful the sun would eventually break through and provide some warmth. I was attempting to ride to the Thrilla course from home and do two laps around the 20 mile training loop. I was loaded up with a ton of food and water to endure 8 hours or so of riding, self-supported. I climbed the wrong road up and over the ridge trying to connect to the Thrilla loop and had to return back to the valley road. I tried the next road, looking to connect with the pipeline trail, but failed again. I ignored a few private property signs and punched through some woods and came out on the side of a golf course. Oops. Eventually found some woodchip trails with tell-tale horse tracks and figured those horse tracks would no doubt lead me to the pipeline trail and, sure enough, they did. The rain was coming down pretty good while on the Thrilla course and my feet were totally numb. I figured that if the rains stopped and the sun came out and my feet warmed up, I would do the second lap. That never happened, my feet stayed ice-cold, and I was losing a lot of energy out my feet. I felt great otherwise and was keeping to my plan of maintaining a HR around 125-135, but I had to bail after one lap and make the long uphill slog back home. I didn't ride as much as I wanted, but I'm not going to dismiss 6+ hours of pure saddle time as a failure. It was a good, albeit painful, day.
Sunday - Nothing
It's going to be a beautiful day today. Sunny, temps in the upper 60's, no rain. But my throat is still sore, the glands are still swollen, and I have a race next weekend in British Columbia. I was scheduled to do a 100 mile road bike ride today, and I really want to, but I know it's just not wise to push it too much if I might be coming down with a cold. It's only 3 weeks to 24 Hours of Spokane. So, instead, I'll sit inside and work and hopefully feel a bit better for tomorrow and maybe do a long ride then.
*Two consecutive weeks of 11,000+ feet of climbing!!! That makes me feel happy.
Booyah!
I think it's going to be a good week.
Just knocked off an 8:23 on the climb up Snoqualmie Parkway from the railroad tracks to Fairway Avenue. I hadn't ever done it in under nine minutes before, so this was a nice surprise. I noticed my heart rate was between 173-177 for almost all of the climb so that tells me I can probably push a little harder if I really dug deep. Of course, not being 25 miles into a ride when I start the climb would help too.
We'll see, but I just might get under eight minutes by summer.
Just knocked off an 8:23 on the climb up Snoqualmie Parkway from the railroad tracks to Fairway Avenue. I hadn't ever done it in under nine minutes before, so this was a nice surprise. I noticed my heart rate was between 173-177 for almost all of the climb so that tells me I can probably push a little harder if I really dug deep. Of course, not being 25 miles into a ride when I start the climb would help too.
We'll see, but I just might get under eight minutes by summer.
Bulk Mileage
I'm in the final stretch leading up to the 24-hour race in Spokane. The race is just 4 weeks from now which means these next couple weeks are very important in terms of making sure I'm adequately prepared. I can't worry about the riding I didn't get do in early April, I can only worry about making the most of the time I have left to train.
I attribute much of my (relative) success at last year's race to the riding I did in Moab and Fruita during a trip made there in early May of last year. In four days I rode 165 miles with over 18,500 feet of climbing while down there. I'm not heading back to Moab this week and there's no doubt that nearly all of the really mountainous terrain is buried under deep snow around here, so I'm going to have to improvise. The goal, regardless of where I am, has to be to get three consecutive days of 5-7 hour rides in.
So here's my plan for the week:
Monday - Scheduled rest day... and boy did I need it.
Tuesday - Going to take a second rest day to get some work done and to attend a BBTC meeting tonight in Seattle.
Wednesday - 30 mile road ride, easy spin through North Bend.
Thursday - 40 mile mountain bike ride, two laps of the Thrilla course.
Friday - 60 mile mountain bike ride, Grand Ridge and up to Rattlesnake Lake.
Saturday - 90 mile mountain bike ride, two laps of the Thrilla course starting at my house.
Sunday - 100 mile road ride from Snoqualmie through Issaquah to Seattle and back through Redmond and Carnation.
I plan on being very tired next Monday.
I attribute much of my (relative) success at last year's race to the riding I did in Moab and Fruita during a trip made there in early May of last year. In four days I rode 165 miles with over 18,500 feet of climbing while down there. I'm not heading back to Moab this week and there's no doubt that nearly all of the really mountainous terrain is buried under deep snow around here, so I'm going to have to improvise. The goal, regardless of where I am, has to be to get three consecutive days of 5-7 hour rides in.
So here's my plan for the week:
Monday - Scheduled rest day... and boy did I need it.
Tuesday - Going to take a second rest day to get some work done and to attend a BBTC meeting tonight in Seattle.
Wednesday - 30 mile road ride, easy spin through North Bend.
Thursday - 40 mile mountain bike ride, two laps of the Thrilla course.
Friday - 60 mile mountain bike ride, Grand Ridge and up to Rattlesnake Lake.
Saturday - 90 mile mountain bike ride, two laps of the Thrilla course starting at my house.
Sunday - 100 mile road ride from Snoqualmie through Issaquah to Seattle and back through Redmond and Carnation.
I plan on being very tired next Monday.
City Lights. Ferries, and Dumpster Diving
Met up with a couple of folks from Native Planet on Saturday morning in the Montlake neighborhood of Seattle for my first in-city bike ride. We left Joe's rental house around 10am and made our way up and over some hills to the Eastlake neighborhood before dropping down alongside I-5 to Stewart. From there, we turned west and zipped straight through the heart of downtown Seattle. The five of us took over the right-hand lane and blasted over and around streetcar tracks, manholes, and potholes on course for the waterfront. I hadn't ever ridden in the city before and it was quite a thrill, even if it was just light weekend traffic. Joe led us down the narrow, cobblestoned, steeply sloping Post Alley landmark and more than a few Paris-Roubaixe comments were made by the group. Mental Note: Must attend that race one of these years!
Our course was plotted towards the waterfront for a reason: we were taking the ferry over to Bainbridge Island to ride the "Chilly Hilly" course. I've never been to Bainbridge Island before and have heard great things about this particular route, so I was excited. And did I mention the sun was out and the temps were (finally!) climbing into the upper 60's.
Bainbrige Island blew me away. The narrow country roads, the impecable craftsman style homes, the hills, and did I mention the views? Man alive, this is one of the nicest places I've ever ridden! A local named Tony joined our group once we got off the ferry and he took us on a slightly more intimate route than the standard Chilly Hilly course and much of the ride was right along the water. We'd swoop and climb and descend along the coast with mouths agape at the incredible views into secluded coves and bays and, of course, back across Puget Sound to the Seattle skyline and Cascade Mountains. It was the type of day that makes putting up with the Northwest winters all worth it. It was the type of bike ride that makes me glad to be alive and thankful to not be anywhere but where I am.
The Chilly Hilly course lived up to its name and while I do not see any reason to ride this route with the thousands of other cyclists in February, my bike and I will definitey be no stranger to Bainbridge Island in the summer months.
We completed the 33 mile course in time to catch the 2:00 ferry back to Seattle. We had split into two different paced groups and the slower bunch would have to catch a later ferry, but they expected as much and on a day like today, nobody was complaining. Back in Seattle, Joe and Jim and I rode north along the waterftont, past the throngs of tourists, the sculpture park, and onto the bike path towards Queen Anne hill. Joe wanted to take in "the view" from the park atop Queen Anne and who was I to argue? The climb was a bear after having already committed myself to sprinting every hill on the Chilly Hilly course, but the three of us made it to the top without stopping and were soon soaking in the incredible views overlooking the city. As usual, a wedding party was there posing for photos. They couldn't have picked a nicer day and a better backdrop if they had tried.
From there, we headed northeast and, much to my chagrin, over the Aurora Bridge. The bridge is about 165 feet high, the sidewalk not too wide, and there was plenty of gravel on the sidewalk too. I spent the entire half-mile or so trying not to look down and wondering if it was possible for me to crash in such a way that I would fall over the railing. I should point out that Aurora Bridge is Seattle's premiere suicide destination and after having ridden over it, I can now say that I'm all in favor of higher jumper-proof barriers being erected.
Jim split from the group in Fremont to head home, which left just Joe and I alone en route back to his place. This is when he looks to me and says, "Today's your lucky day, I'm going to show you a secret."
I don't really know Joe. I met him on a ride last Tuesday and to be honest, I'm not sure he and I would really have much in common besides cycling. He's a little different. He's very friendly, and a genuinely nice guy, but he's a bit more earthy than I am.
So he tells me about a bread company nearby that throws out all their day-olds into dumpsters behind their factory. For some reason they don't donate it or give it away or destroy it, but rather just chuck it all into a few dumpsters. Really high-quality "artisan" breads too. Joe's secret was that he was taking me dumpster diving.
We roll into the parking lot behind the factory and a UW hippie-chick is rummaging through one of the three dumpsters. Joe flips the lid on a second and practically starts salivating about the prospects. The breads are all in paper bags just like they'd appear on store shelves, but they were in a dumpster. The dumpster was about half full so you had to really reach in deep to grab anything. I knew refusing to partake would label me a snob so rather than turn up my nose at the whole thing, I instead chose to hold it, reach in, and feign excitement over a loaf of sourdough. To my surprise, however, the excitement turned genuine when I realized how soft the bread still was. It smelled great, it appeared clean, had a rich golden crust, and honestly, I was actually turning excited to have this $5 loaf of bread for free. Joe was excited too and in a blink of an eye, climbed into the dumpster to fish for a couple of olive-loafs for he and his fiancee. He agreed to carry all the bread back to his house -- I guess riding with a courier bag has its benefits -- and several other people drove up to the dumpsters as we were leaving. He tells me that he even sees some of the well-healed folks for the million-dollar Queen Anne condos hitting the dumpsters after work for free bread. I might even believe him.
------
Finally had a great week on the bike thanks to the turn in the weather. Got in about 10 hours of pure saddle time and over 11,000 feet of climbing this week. Also finally got around to replacing the brake pads on my road bike and buying a shorter stem. Maybe I won't be terrified descending Alpe d'Zoo this Tuesday!
Tuesday - Road Bike: 20.3 miles, 2841 feet climbing.
Thursday - Road Bike: 22.2 miles, 1271 feet climbing.
Saturday - Road Bike: 50.2 miles, 3567 feet climbing.
Sunday - Mountain Bike: 33.6 miles, 3645 feet climbing.
Our course was plotted towards the waterfront for a reason: we were taking the ferry over to Bainbridge Island to ride the "Chilly Hilly" course. I've never been to Bainbridge Island before and have heard great things about this particular route, so I was excited. And did I mention the sun was out and the temps were (finally!) climbing into the upper 60's.
Bainbrige Island blew me away. The narrow country roads, the impecable craftsman style homes, the hills, and did I mention the views? Man alive, this is one of the nicest places I've ever ridden! A local named Tony joined our group once we got off the ferry and he took us on a slightly more intimate route than the standard Chilly Hilly course and much of the ride was right along the water. We'd swoop and climb and descend along the coast with mouths agape at the incredible views into secluded coves and bays and, of course, back across Puget Sound to the Seattle skyline and Cascade Mountains. It was the type of day that makes putting up with the Northwest winters all worth it. It was the type of bike ride that makes me glad to be alive and thankful to not be anywhere but where I am.
The Chilly Hilly course lived up to its name and while I do not see any reason to ride this route with the thousands of other cyclists in February, my bike and I will definitey be no stranger to Bainbridge Island in the summer months.
We completed the 33 mile course in time to catch the 2:00 ferry back to Seattle. We had split into two different paced groups and the slower bunch would have to catch a later ferry, but they expected as much and on a day like today, nobody was complaining. Back in Seattle, Joe and Jim and I rode north along the waterftont, past the throngs of tourists, the sculpture park, and onto the bike path towards Queen Anne hill. Joe wanted to take in "the view" from the park atop Queen Anne and who was I to argue? The climb was a bear after having already committed myself to sprinting every hill on the Chilly Hilly course, but the three of us made it to the top without stopping and were soon soaking in the incredible views overlooking the city. As usual, a wedding party was there posing for photos. They couldn't have picked a nicer day and a better backdrop if they had tried.
From there, we headed northeast and, much to my chagrin, over the Aurora Bridge. The bridge is about 165 feet high, the sidewalk not too wide, and there was plenty of gravel on the sidewalk too. I spent the entire half-mile or so trying not to look down and wondering if it was possible for me to crash in such a way that I would fall over the railing. I should point out that Aurora Bridge is Seattle's premiere suicide destination and after having ridden over it, I can now say that I'm all in favor of higher jumper-proof barriers being erected.
Jim split from the group in Fremont to head home, which left just Joe and I alone en route back to his place. This is when he looks to me and says, "Today's your lucky day, I'm going to show you a secret."
I don't really know Joe. I met him on a ride last Tuesday and to be honest, I'm not sure he and I would really have much in common besides cycling. He's a little different. He's very friendly, and a genuinely nice guy, but he's a bit more earthy than I am.
So he tells me about a bread company nearby that throws out all their day-olds into dumpsters behind their factory. For some reason they don't donate it or give it away or destroy it, but rather just chuck it all into a few dumpsters. Really high-quality "artisan" breads too. Joe's secret was that he was taking me dumpster diving.
We roll into the parking lot behind the factory and a UW hippie-chick is rummaging through one of the three dumpsters. Joe flips the lid on a second and practically starts salivating about the prospects. The breads are all in paper bags just like they'd appear on store shelves, but they were in a dumpster. The dumpster was about half full so you had to really reach in deep to grab anything. I knew refusing to partake would label me a snob so rather than turn up my nose at the whole thing, I instead chose to hold it, reach in, and feign excitement over a loaf of sourdough. To my surprise, however, the excitement turned genuine when I realized how soft the bread still was. It smelled great, it appeared clean, had a rich golden crust, and honestly, I was actually turning excited to have this $5 loaf of bread for free. Joe was excited too and in a blink of an eye, climbed into the dumpster to fish for a couple of olive-loafs for he and his fiancee. He agreed to carry all the bread back to his house -- I guess riding with a courier bag has its benefits -- and several other people drove up to the dumpsters as we were leaving. He tells me that he even sees some of the well-healed folks for the million-dollar Queen Anne condos hitting the dumpsters after work for free bread. I might even believe him.
------
Finally had a great week on the bike thanks to the turn in the weather. Got in about 10 hours of pure saddle time and over 11,000 feet of climbing this week. Also finally got around to replacing the brake pads on my road bike and buying a shorter stem. Maybe I won't be terrified descending Alpe d'Zoo this Tuesday!
Tuesday - Road Bike: 20.3 miles, 2841 feet climbing.
Thursday - Road Bike: 22.2 miles, 1271 feet climbing.
Saturday - Road Bike: 50.2 miles, 3567 feet climbing.
Sunday - Mountain Bike: 33.6 miles, 3645 feet climbing.
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