40mi of 100mi ride completed, Foxy's Fall Century in Davis
For the past few days, I've known I was in trouble. Doing my own diagnosing via online research, I can't decide whether I have bronchitis or side effects of gastroesophageal reflux disease. Or maybe both. At any rate, I have a dry cough, a lump in my throat, and an all-around unhappy immune system. I start dosing myself with acid reducers, snort up my prescription allergy meds, and cross my fingers.
It's just getting light when we drive into the Veteran's Memorial Theater parking lot in Davis. The weather is mild and looks to be a nice day. The parking lot is already about 3/4 full and it's not even 7:30am. The checkin process is ridiculously easy and I walk in, get my bracelet (yellow) and map and then I'm apparently on my own. The rest stops are a little over every 20 miles, and I already know the hills are going to kill me. I set off at a fairly brisk pace, but I start fading as we pass County Rd 97. I send T ahead and tell him I'll meet him at the first rest stop. I get passed by what feels like the entire 1300 registered riders, but amazingly a small group finally passes that is going about my speed. I manage to latch on for several miles and we cruise along at about 15-16mph. There is a mild headwind, but it saps me whenever I'm unprotected.
At some point, I fall behind a little too far, and I can't catch up again. I try to put one of my headphones in, and end up sending my route map sailing into the road. After getting set up with music in my right ear, map back in my pocket, and my will to live fading, I climb back on the bike and putter along at 13-14mph. My heartrate is too high and my speed keeps dropping like it did at the end of the Condor Classic. The first rest stop is apparently a sick joke that doesn't exist because I should have made it there by now. About a mile from the stop, T comes back to check on me. I fuel up at the rest stop and fill one of my water bottles with Cytomax, which still tastes awful but less so than Gatorade.
I know by now that I will not be able to finish the ride. My plan is to limp along until the lunch rest stop at the 60 mile mark, just before the nasty hills, and then drop out. I try to send T ahead, but he doesn't go far ahead of me. About halfway to the second rest stop, we hit very gently rolling hills. My heartrate is in the 180s, my legs won't work. At the top of one of the tiniest hills, I'm in my smallest gear, going about 6mph and I can't pull any more effort from my legs. I keep pushing, and I'm suddenly hyperventilating. I try to stop, but I can't get my right foot out of the pedal, so I fall over. I still can't catch my breath, I'm trapped under my bike, and the fresh scar tissue on my poor, abused right knee is torn open. Other riders quickly surround me. One calls for a SAG car. One cleans and bandages my knee and then hands me a vitamin C supplement. I get loaded up into the SAG car and tell T I'll meet him at the lunch stop. My bike ride is over for the day.
I spend a good part of the afternoon at the Lake Solano (or Sonoma) park, watching riders come in. I see the fabled bride and groom come to the stop, but don't get to witness the ceremony. When another SAG car stops in for lunch, I don't dare pass up a ride back to Davis. I run some errands in Davis, checking in a few times on T's progress. Just before he makes it to the finish, another rider comes in who is so wasted that he can't dismount his bicycle and it has to be pulled out from underneath him. His wife runs to get him electrolytes while a volunteer walks him over to a bench and works on getting the rider's legs to unlock. T is at least mobile when he arrives. The post-ride dinner is fantastic and includes sodas.
October 19, 2009
Ride Report 10/14
~30mi group ride to Elverta & back
I took a couple days off after the Condor Classic. Storm on Tuesday, but headed out Wednesday morning for the group ride. There are only three of us this morning, and we head north on E Levee road to Elverta and have breakfast at a little diner. It sprinkles while we eat, so I get to try out my new (too big) jacket on the ride back. The north branch of the bike trail has not been cleared of storm detritus yet, and at one point we have to walk our bikes through the mud to get around an entire tree that has fallen across the path. A little farther on, I get a flat tire. My spare tube is patched, but not well, and it goes flat a short time later. I get a spare tube from the ride leader and I get my patching skills, pump choice, and my use of liners all critiqued while the tube is changed. I make it home spattered in mud and haul the Trek into the backyard for a quick rinse off.
I took a couple days off after the Condor Classic. Storm on Tuesday, but headed out Wednesday morning for the group ride. There are only three of us this morning, and we head north on E Levee road to Elverta and have breakfast at a little diner. It sprinkles while we eat, so I get to try out my new (too big) jacket on the ride back. The north branch of the bike trail has not been cleared of storm detritus yet, and at one point we have to walk our bikes through the mud to get around an entire tree that has fallen across the path. A little farther on, I get a flat tire. My spare tube is patched, but not well, and it goes flat a short time later. I get a spare tube from the ride leader and I get my patching skills, pump choice, and my use of liners all critiqued while the tube is changed. I make it home spattered in mud and haul the Trek into the backyard for a quick rinse off.
The Big Day!! 10/10
65mi (100k) fun ride in 5:20, Condor Classic in San Juan Bautista
We get to the ranch at a few minutes after 7am. It's a gray day with high fog and there is a 300 yard walk through the churned up dirt parking lot and up a steep hill to the starting line. I get my bracelet (blue), map, number (291), and have my bike inspected. Then it's time to head out.
We go through tiny San Juan Bautista and catch a quick view of the church from The first rest stop is only a few miles out, so we skip it. The pattern continues relentlessly throughout the day: rest stop then hills. The first hills are much more brutal than the ride description led us to expect. I put the Trek in the smallest chainring and twiddle away in the granny gears as best I can, but hills have never been my friends or even nodding acquaintances. It doesn't help that I get a puncture flat on one of the first climbs.
The first part of the ride is along one side of the valley. Nice views. The downhills don't quite make up for the climbs since they are curvy and can't be taken at speed. The rest stops are frequent, about every 11-12 miles, and stocked with local produce (Fuji apples, raisins, carrots, walnuts) and pretzels. I haven't found a sports drink I like yet, but I water down some Gatorade with a ton of water. Wrestling myself out of and back into my bib shorts is a discouraging experience, and after the second time (only for wardrobe adjustments), I vow not to even attempt it for the rest of the ride.
By 11am, the fog is lifting and the sun is peeking out. The temperature climbs quickly and I no longer freeze as soon as we stop. The middle portion of the ride circles us around some of the back farm roads, long, flat and boring. Then more hills on the other side of the valley. By now, I haven't been eating enough or had enough electrolytes or something. I'm getting cranky and want the ride to be over. One amazing downhill almost picks up my mood. I hit 43.7mph before I start to panic and start milking the brakes.
Then it's more unending flat farm roads with semis that give no leeway and a 25-30mph head/crosswind for the last 12 miles. My speed creeps down from 15 to 10mph. I'm going so slow and I'm so cranky that I can't even muster the concentration to draft. The ride lasts far too long by the time the ranch driveway finally comes into view. There's still a couple miles of driveway to negotiate, then checkin for my swag bag, then muscling the bike down the steep hill and across the field to the car, then quick change out of sweaty biking clothes, and back across the field and up the hill to get our post-ride barbecue (which is very tasty, but spoiled by the complete lack of any caffeine to drink). According to my computer, my total distance is 65 miles and riding time 5:20.
We get to the ranch at a few minutes after 7am. It's a gray day with high fog and there is a 300 yard walk through the churned up dirt parking lot and up a steep hill to the starting line. I get my bracelet (blue), map, number (291), and have my bike inspected. Then it's time to head out.
We go through tiny San Juan Bautista and catch a quick view of the church from The first rest stop is only a few miles out, so we skip it. The pattern continues relentlessly throughout the day: rest stop then hills. The first hills are much more brutal than the ride description led us to expect. I put the Trek in the smallest chainring and twiddle away in the granny gears as best I can, but hills have never been my friends or even nodding acquaintances. It doesn't help that I get a puncture flat on one of the first climbs.
The first part of the ride is along one side of the valley. Nice views. The downhills don't quite make up for the climbs since they are curvy and can't be taken at speed. The rest stops are frequent, about every 11-12 miles, and stocked with local produce (Fuji apples, raisins, carrots, walnuts) and pretzels. I haven't found a sports drink I like yet, but I water down some Gatorade with a ton of water. Wrestling myself out of and back into my bib shorts is a discouraging experience, and after the second time (only for wardrobe adjustments), I vow not to even attempt it for the rest of the ride.
By 11am, the fog is lifting and the sun is peeking out. The temperature climbs quickly and I no longer freeze as soon as we stop. The middle portion of the ride circles us around some of the back farm roads, long, flat and boring. Then more hills on the other side of the valley. By now, I haven't been eating enough or had enough electrolytes or something. I'm getting cranky and want the ride to be over. One amazing downhill almost picks up my mood. I hit 43.7mph before I start to panic and start milking the brakes.
Then it's more unending flat farm roads with semis that give no leeway and a 25-30mph head/crosswind for the last 12 miles. My speed creeps down from 15 to 10mph. I'm going so slow and I'm so cranky that I can't even muster the concentration to draft. The ride lasts far too long by the time the ranch driveway finally comes into view. There's still a couple miles of driveway to negotiate, then checkin for my swag bag, then muscling the bike down the steep hill and across the field to the car, then quick change out of sweaty biking clothes, and back across the field and up the hill to get our post-ride barbecue (which is very tasty, but spoiled by the complete lack of any caffeine to drink). According to my computer, my total distance is 65 miles and riding time 5:20.
Ride Report 10/7
Would have been about 43mi total, group ride to Amore in Gold River & back
I'm over my cold, and breathing fairly normally except for a dry cough that has stuck around. Today we have four or five in the group ride and head out to Gold River. On the way back, I just don't feel quite right and drop back to shed a layer of clothing and to eat a Powerbar. As I poke my way home, the ride leader has come back to find me and joins me the rest of the way to the Guy West Bridge, where I split off to go home.
At 39th & M Sts, I check the intersection and see oncoming cars, but neither is at their stop sign yet, so I proceed through the intersection. About halfway through, I realize the southbound car is not even slowing down and is going to hit me. I don't remember leaving the bike or landing on the ground, but I remember the hood sliding underneath me and then standing up from the ground. Of course, my first thought is what damage has been done to the bike (very little, it turns out). The northbound driver is a godsend and takes over the scene, ordering the driver who hit me to write down his information and then loading me and my bike in her SUV to give me a ride home. Amazingly, all I have wrong is 2 bruised knees and stiff/sore shoulders and neck. The Trek needs both wheels trued, the rear derailleur hanger straightened and the headset tightened. Oh, yes, and my doctor reminds me on Thursday to replace my helmet just in case.
I'm over my cold, and breathing fairly normally except for a dry cough that has stuck around. Today we have four or five in the group ride and head out to Gold River. On the way back, I just don't feel quite right and drop back to shed a layer of clothing and to eat a Powerbar. As I poke my way home, the ride leader has come back to find me and joins me the rest of the way to the Guy West Bridge, where I split off to go home.
At 39th & M Sts, I check the intersection and see oncoming cars, but neither is at their stop sign yet, so I proceed through the intersection. About halfway through, I realize the southbound car is not even slowing down and is going to hit me. I don't remember leaving the bike or landing on the ground, but I remember the hood sliding underneath me and then standing up from the ground. Of course, my first thought is what damage has been done to the bike (very little, it turns out). The northbound driver is a godsend and takes over the scene, ordering the driver who hit me to write down his information and then loading me and my bike in her SUV to give me a ride home. Amazingly, all I have wrong is 2 bruised knees and stiff/sore shoulders and neck. The Trek needs both wheels trued, the rear derailleur hanger straightened and the headset tightened. Oh, yes, and my doctor reminds me on Thursday to replace my helmet just in case.
October 6, 2009
Ride Report 10/6
Solo 24 miles Riverside Blvd past Garcia Bend Park & back
I refilled my prescription allergy meds and have been snorting away for a couple days, so I can breathe relatively well today. As usual, I drool over the houses by the river and even eye an apartment complex I've been considering as a possible candidate for my next move. Weather is beautiful, as always.
I refilled my prescription allergy meds and have been snorting away for a couple days, so I can breathe relatively well today. As usual, I drool over the houses by the river and even eye an apartment complex I've been considering as a possible candidate for my next move. Weather is beautiful, as always.
October 4, 2009
Ride Report 10/4
Partnered 39 miles ARBT Discovery Park-Hagan Park & back
I'm over my cold, but the allergies have moved in. This ride was supposed to be the ARBT from end to end (about 72 miles), but a few miles in I'm wheezing too hard to make a go of it and can't go much faster than 15mph. Also, both of us are stunned at how chilly it is this morning and just can't seem to warm up. So, after stopping at a Raley's for a last-ditch hope that decongestants will allow me to go the whole way, stop at a picnic table just outside Hagan Park and call it the halfway point. Sitting in the sun, we're both still cold and don't want to stay too long. We help a couple of women who are trying to put more air in one of their tires and then it's home to hot soup, cider and bed.
I'm over my cold, but the allergies have moved in. This ride was supposed to be the ARBT from end to end (about 72 miles), but a few miles in I'm wheezing too hard to make a go of it and can't go much faster than 15mph. Also, both of us are stunned at how chilly it is this morning and just can't seem to warm up. So, after stopping at a Raley's for a last-ditch hope that decongestants will allow me to go the whole way, stop at a picnic table just outside Hagan Park and call it the halfway point. Sitting in the sun, we're both still cold and don't want to stay too long. We help a couple of women who are trying to put more air in one of their tires and then it's home to hot soup, cider and bed.
Ride Report 10/3
17 miles S Land Park Dr south & back
Just need to try to rack up some miles. Mostly over my cold. Down to the coughing/stuffy nose phase. Still a little dizzy and sniffly.
Just need to try to rack up some miles. Mostly over my cold. Down to the coughing/stuffy nose phase. Still a little dizzy and sniffly.
Ride Report 10/2
Solo 24 miles Riverside Dr south & back
I'm mostly over my cold, but I get short of breath riding, so I head out to enjoy the sun and see how far I can go on my bike today. I feel a little dizzy and my nose is running merrily, but the weather is nice and I'm on my bike.
I'm mostly over my cold, but I get short of breath riding, so I head out to enjoy the sun and see how far I can go on my bike today. I feel a little dizzy and my nose is running merrily, but the weather is nice and I'm on my bike.
September 27, 2009
Ride Report 9/26
Partnered 18 miles back roads around Clarksburg/West Sacramento
Well, it turns out I was nursing a cold. A very minor one, but still a cold. Since I can't make the Twin Cities Bridge loop, we cut out the first half of the ride and park in Clarksburg and tootle around the backroads. Trying to figure out a way up to the levy, we manage to catch a small group of riders. T's road racing blood cannot be denied and we overtake the other riders. Then we see and pass (at about 18mph) another group of riders. Then we see a huge group at the school in Clarksburg. This luckily means a pitstop for T and we find out the group is actually a tour ride (and I've forgotten the company's name) that travels the south Sacramento River vineyards over a few days, averaging about 60 miles a day. I ask T if this still counts since we passed people that were doing a multi-day long-distance tour. He confirms that of course it still counts.
Well, it turns out I was nursing a cold. A very minor one, but still a cold. Since I can't make the Twin Cities Bridge loop, we cut out the first half of the ride and park in Clarksburg and tootle around the backroads. Trying to figure out a way up to the levy, we manage to catch a small group of riders. T's road racing blood cannot be denied and we overtake the other riders. Then we see and pass (at about 18mph) another group of riders. Then we see a huge group at the school in Clarksburg. This luckily means a pitstop for T and we find out the group is actually a tour ride (and I've forgotten the company's name) that travels the south Sacramento River vineyards over a few days, averaging about 60 miles a day. I ask T if this still counts since we passed people that were doing a multi-day long-distance tour. He confirms that of course it still counts.
September 23, 2009
Ride Report 9/23
55.6 mile group ride Sacramento to Davis & back via long detour West Sac
I can't tell if I'm getting a cold or just having a bad allergy attack today. Regardless, I set out to join the Wednesday morning Sacramento Wheelmen ride. We take a fairly direct route to South Davis with a fairly large group of about eight. The rest of the group goes for breakfast at Cindy's while I run errands in Davis (pick up my contacts, license the Trek & buy a tiny cable lock, bigger seat wedge, and a bell). On my way back, I see the group leaving Cindy's and just manage to catch them. We take a meandering ride back through West Sacramento and some really beautiful housing developments. I can't help but wonder what the occupancy rate is, given the economy, though. I manage to eat both my Odwalla bars on the go, not having stopped to eat in Davis. I never knew Jefferson Blvd was this long, and after a few decades, we finally make it back to W Capitol Blvd and back to downtown Sacramento. I decide it must be allergies because I managed to bike that far and not collapse.
I can't tell if I'm getting a cold or just having a bad allergy attack today. Regardless, I set out to join the Wednesday morning Sacramento Wheelmen ride. We take a fairly direct route to South Davis with a fairly large group of about eight. The rest of the group goes for breakfast at Cindy's while I run errands in Davis (pick up my contacts, license the Trek & buy a tiny cable lock, bigger seat wedge, and a bell). On my way back, I see the group leaving Cindy's and just manage to catch them. We take a meandering ride back through West Sacramento and some really beautiful housing developments. I can't help but wonder what the occupancy rate is, given the economy, though. I manage to eat both my Odwalla bars on the go, not having stopped to eat in Davis. I never knew Jefferson Blvd was this long, and after a few decades, we finally make it back to W Capitol Blvd and back to downtown Sacramento. I decide it must be allergies because I managed to bike that far and not collapse.
Ride Report 9/22
Solo 25.6 miles Riverside Blvd past Garcia Bend Park & back
Just an exploratory ride today. Riverside Blvd is one of the north-south streets with a good bike lane, so I decide to take it as far south as I feel like and then turn around. I first go to the bike trail south of the Sacramento Marina. I'm playing with fire here and the gods strike me down with a front flat in return. I have learned my lesson about biking that path. Never again! This is flat #4 on the Gatorskins. On a random side note, I recognize a cyclist from the Folsom Cyclebration criteriums who asks if I need help.
The houses south of Florin Rd are big and pretty and make for some nice daydreaming. I follow a bike path on the levee south of Garcia Bend Park, but it is blocked after a couple of miles due to construction. I amuse myself by passing judgment on the houses that back the levee and choose one or two I wouldn't mind owning. Who am I kidding--I'd take any of them!
Just an exploratory ride today. Riverside Blvd is one of the north-south streets with a good bike lane, so I decide to take it as far south as I feel like and then turn around. I first go to the bike trail south of the Sacramento Marina. I'm playing with fire here and the gods strike me down with a front flat in return. I have learned my lesson about biking that path. Never again! This is flat #4 on the Gatorskins. On a random side note, I recognize a cyclist from the Folsom Cyclebration criteriums who asks if I need help.
The houses south of Florin Rd are big and pretty and make for some nice daydreaming. I follow a bike path on the levee south of Garcia Bend Park, but it is blocked after a couple of miles due to construction. I amuse myself by passing judgment on the houses that back the levee and choose one or two I wouldn't mind owning. Who am I kidding--I'd take any of them!
Ride Report 9/19
28.8 miles Avenue of the Giants, Visitors Center to Phillipsville & back
This is my sole vacation trip, so I have to take my bike with me!
I remember the Avenue of the Giants being a twisty little road with redwoods encroaching on every turn. However, the southern stretch at least is at least partly a small highway, the main route for the tiny towns along the Avenue that count on tourists for their very survival (or so it seems). The views are astounding, the temperature is chilly, and the traffic is almost nonexistent. It is amazing to consider that most of the redwoods today are descendants of clearcutting and are at most 80-100 years old.
In spite of my hopes for a flat road, there are a few pretty good hills along the way. At Phillipsville, we stop at the general store to drink sodas and watch the locals. Based on the ten minutes I see of Phillipsville, the locals are very...eccentric, although I do envy their living in the middle of the redwoods.
On the way back, I'm surprised by how chilly I get. Thank heaven for arm warmers. I had intended to bike the entire length of the Avenue, but I decide to spend some time among the trees on foot instead.
This is my sole vacation trip, so I have to take my bike with me!
I remember the Avenue of the Giants being a twisty little road with redwoods encroaching on every turn. However, the southern stretch at least is at least partly a small highway, the main route for the tiny towns along the Avenue that count on tourists for their very survival (or so it seems). The views are astounding, the temperature is chilly, and the traffic is almost nonexistent. It is amazing to consider that most of the redwoods today are descendants of clearcutting and are at most 80-100 years old.
In spite of my hopes for a flat road, there are a few pretty good hills along the way. At Phillipsville, we stop at the general store to drink sodas and watch the locals. Based on the ten minutes I see of Phillipsville, the locals are very...eccentric, although I do envy their living in the middle of the redwoods.
On the way back, I'm surprised by how chilly I get. Thank heaven for arm warmers. I had intended to bike the entire length of the Avenue, but I decide to spend some time among the trees on foot instead.
Ride Report 9/17
Solo 46.4 miles Twin Cities Bridge loop in about 3:14
While researching river routes, I was surprised to discover how few routes there are across the Sacramento River. The next bridge after the Freeport Bridge is about 13 miles away, but I figured it would be worth it to give it a try.
South of Pocket Rd, Freeport becomes Hwy 160. There is little to no shoulder, but the traffic was incredibly light, so I had no worries there. I rode well away from the shoulder to be more visible and to try to minimize my flat tire risk. Most drivers gave me as much room as they could when they passed. A few only gave me as much room as they had to. A very special few got completely flummoxed by having to follow a bike and trailed behind me far longer than they needed to and passed me going 20mph.
The ride is very nice for scenery and for large houses to drool and dream over. The Twin Cities Bridge was even more heart-in-your-throat scary than the Freeport Bridge. Unfortunately, my phone's MP3 player crapped out about halfway through the ride. Not a big deal, but I already have a hard time motivating myself on long solo rides, and I keep finding myself pootling along at 13-14mph if I don't pay attention.
On the way back, I cut the ride a little short by crossing back over the Freeport Bridge and head back home straight up Freeport. Nice ride!
While researching river routes, I was surprised to discover how few routes there are across the Sacramento River. The next bridge after the Freeport Bridge is about 13 miles away, but I figured it would be worth it to give it a try.
South of Pocket Rd, Freeport becomes Hwy 160. There is little to no shoulder, but the traffic was incredibly light, so I had no worries there. I rode well away from the shoulder to be more visible and to try to minimize my flat tire risk. Most drivers gave me as much room as they could when they passed. A few only gave me as much room as they had to. A very special few got completely flummoxed by having to follow a bike and trailed behind me far longer than they needed to and passed me going 20mph.
The ride is very nice for scenery and for large houses to drool and dream over. The Twin Cities Bridge was even more heart-in-your-throat scary than the Freeport Bridge. Unfortunately, my phone's MP3 player crapped out about halfway through the ride. Not a big deal, but I already have a hard time motivating myself on long solo rides, and I keep finding myself pootling along at 13-14mph if I don't pay attention.
On the way back, I cut the ride a little short by crossing back over the Freeport Bridge and head back home straight up Freeport. Nice ride!
Ride Report 9/15
28.8 miles Freeport bridge loop
So, after looking at Mapquest, I figured out how to take S Land Park to Greenhaven to Pocket and then to Freeport. I swear this loop gets shorter every time I ride it. I expected it to be at least 33 miles, but the above is what my cyclocomputer recorded. Still a pretty ride in spite of the stomach-dropping ride over Freeport bridge, and the wind is never a pleasant surprise on S River Rd.
So, after looking at Mapquest, I figured out how to take S Land Park to Greenhaven to Pocket and then to Freeport. I swear this loop gets shorter every time I ride it. I expected it to be at least 33 miles, but the above is what my cyclocomputer recorded. Still a pretty ride in spite of the stomach-dropping ride over Freeport bridge, and the wind is never a pleasant surprise on S River Rd.
September 14, 2009
Ride Report 9/13
36 miles Folsom-Auburn-Folsom partnered
Today more hills. And one really big hill.
Back to Folsom to bike Folsom-Auburn Rd from Folsom to Auburn and back. The consensus is that I can do Foxy's Fall Century, but it will be very hard, and in the meantime I need to pile on base miles and hills.
The hills start out rather gentle and rolling. Then long, gentle and never ending. My heart rate goes from 145-174, but nowhere too frightening. At the top of the neverending long hill, I stop in the shade to eat and give my back a bit of a rest. The next hill is the big one.
The pitch starts out manageable, but soon turns steep. And it keeps going and going. I'm in my tiny gears but still moving at 6-7mph. My heart rate is only 180, but I soon start fighting against hyperventilating. I keep pedaling. I can't fill my lungs, but I know I can't hyperventilate and I try to keep my breathing deep and steady. But I can't fill my lungs and I just have to stop or I'm going to panic. Once I'm not pedaling, my body gives in to gasping for air. I'm still trying not to panic. T comes back quickly and makes sure I'm not dying. I just feel like I am.
Since we're still on the steepest part of the hill, once I'm ready to move again, I circle downhill for a short distance to build up my speed and then turn around to go back uphill. My knees start yelling in protest immediately. The pitch improves, but still the hill goes on and on. The only consolation I can cling to is the long long coast on the way back down. Well, that and a very delicious meal at the cafe at the top of the hill.
So, another feather in my cap. The way back to Folsom is spoiled by a few uphills about which my legs let me know they are not pleased. We head back to the Folsom Cyclebration and watch a men's 45/55 1,2,3 Two Bridges criterium. The finish is nicely dramatic and requires a photo finish consult. We call it a day and go home. I am starving for the rest of the evening and eat an impressive amount of food to make up for the calories burned today.
Today more hills. And one really big hill.
Back to Folsom to bike Folsom-Auburn Rd from Folsom to Auburn and back. The consensus is that I can do Foxy's Fall Century, but it will be very hard, and in the meantime I need to pile on base miles and hills.
The hills start out rather gentle and rolling. Then long, gentle and never ending. My heart rate goes from 145-174, but nowhere too frightening. At the top of the neverending long hill, I stop in the shade to eat and give my back a bit of a rest. The next hill is the big one.
The pitch starts out manageable, but soon turns steep. And it keeps going and going. I'm in my tiny gears but still moving at 6-7mph. My heart rate is only 180, but I soon start fighting against hyperventilating. I keep pedaling. I can't fill my lungs, but I know I can't hyperventilate and I try to keep my breathing deep and steady. But I can't fill my lungs and I just have to stop or I'm going to panic. Once I'm not pedaling, my body gives in to gasping for air. I'm still trying not to panic. T comes back quickly and makes sure I'm not dying. I just feel like I am.
Since we're still on the steepest part of the hill, once I'm ready to move again, I circle downhill for a short distance to build up my speed and then turn around to go back uphill. My knees start yelling in protest immediately. The pitch improves, but still the hill goes on and on. The only consolation I can cling to is the long long coast on the way back down. Well, that and a very delicious meal at the cafe at the top of the hill.
So, another feather in my cap. The way back to Folsom is spoiled by a few uphills about which my legs let me know they are not pleased. We head back to the Folsom Cyclebration and watch a men's 45/55 1,2,3 Two Bridges criterium. The finish is nicely dramatic and requires a photo finish consult. We call it a day and go home. I am starving for the rest of the evening and eat an impressive amount of food to make up for the calories burned today.
Ride Report 9/12
Oh, somewhere between 12-15 miles on the UCD Cruiser around Lake Natoma/Folsom area at Folsom Cyclebration
For the one and probably only time, I took out the UCD Aggies cruiser to ride in public at the Lake Natoma Cruiser Ride, part of the three-day Folsom Cyclebration. My friend S is along with my (her?) hybrid, but first we go to the Lake Forest Business Park to watch several criterium races. I especially wanted to watch the women's races, since this may be the type of event I ride in next spring if I stick with training. So naturally the women's races start at 7:30am. It's the first time I've (voluntarily) seen 5:30am in a long time, and I think the experience will hold me for quite a while.
Apart from the insanely early start to the day, I do enjoy myself. T meets us at the race course and comments on the races, strategies, riders, etc while we watch. The women's fields are tiny (19) compared to any of the men's races (40 or more). We watch the two women's crits and the men's category 5. Then T heads off to ride the Gold Rush 100k route to see if it would kill me and S and I go to Lake Natoma for the cruiser ride.
It's a smallish event and the weather (overcast, random sprinkling) has kept attendance low. We register for the cruiser ride, get our free swag and pedal off to Lake Natoma. S can't handle hills at all, so any time we come to one, she has to get off and walk. I think I'm doing pretty well on my single speed cruiser, but I still have to go as slowly as I can not to outpace her. At the halfway point (about 5 miles) is a poor lonely Jamba Juice rep with a tray of smoothies. We drink our smoothies and debate whether to continue the loop, double back or just jump onto Folsom Blvd and cut back on surface streets. The lack of hills makes Folsom Blvd our choice of return route, and we are pleasantly surprised to discover that bike paths parallel Folsom almost the entire way to Greenback.
S has had it for the day, so I hand her the keys to my truck and go meet T at the cyclocross course. We decide to head back to the criterium course, eat lunch, and watch the last races. I have to pedal back to Lake Forest, but other than one hill I have to push the cruiser up, I manage to pump along at about 13mph. The criteriums are entertaining, and a couple offer nice exciting breakaways and pursuits, but by the time the last race starts, we are both burned out on bike racing and decide to call it a day.
For the one and probably only time, I took out the UCD Aggies cruiser to ride in public at the Lake Natoma Cruiser Ride, part of the three-day Folsom Cyclebration. My friend S is along with my (her?) hybrid, but first we go to the Lake Forest Business Park to watch several criterium races. I especially wanted to watch the women's races, since this may be the type of event I ride in next spring if I stick with training. So naturally the women's races start at 7:30am. It's the first time I've (voluntarily) seen 5:30am in a long time, and I think the experience will hold me for quite a while.
Apart from the insanely early start to the day, I do enjoy myself. T meets us at the race course and comments on the races, strategies, riders, etc while we watch. The women's fields are tiny (19) compared to any of the men's races (40 or more). We watch the two women's crits and the men's category 5. Then T heads off to ride the Gold Rush 100k route to see if it would kill me and S and I go to Lake Natoma for the cruiser ride.
It's a smallish event and the weather (overcast, random sprinkling) has kept attendance low. We register for the cruiser ride, get our free swag and pedal off to Lake Natoma. S can't handle hills at all, so any time we come to one, she has to get off and walk. I think I'm doing pretty well on my single speed cruiser, but I still have to go as slowly as I can not to outpace her. At the halfway point (about 5 miles) is a poor lonely Jamba Juice rep with a tray of smoothies. We drink our smoothies and debate whether to continue the loop, double back or just jump onto Folsom Blvd and cut back on surface streets. The lack of hills makes Folsom Blvd our choice of return route, and we are pleasantly surprised to discover that bike paths parallel Folsom almost the entire way to Greenback.
S has had it for the day, so I hand her the keys to my truck and go meet T at the cyclocross course. We decide to head back to the criterium course, eat lunch, and watch the last races. I have to pedal back to Lake Forest, but other than one hill I have to push the cruiser up, I manage to pump along at about 13mph. The criteriums are entertaining, and a couple offer nice exciting breakaways and pursuits, but by the time the last race starts, we are both burned out on bike racing and decide to call it a day.
Ride Report 9/11
18.2 miles Nimbus Hatchery to Beals Point (yay, I finally found out how to spell it!) & back
Today I repeat the loop we rode on Sunday. My shoulders are still stiff, but not sore. Parking is no problem, even on a Friday, and it is nice to see so many people making use of the bike trail. The climbs start immediately on leaving the Hatchery, and my back starts complaining. I have a hard time of it on the way up and realize I would probably benefit from a few miles' warmup before tackling hills. My heartrate hits 188 on the last steep climb to Beals Point and I reach the benches feeling like puking or crying, but do neither. I have Beals Point completely to myself, so I sit and watch dried up Folsom Lake for several minutes before I feel ready to tackle the ride back.
As usual, the miles-long coast on the way down is fun, exhilarating, and a little scary around those corners. I reach the dam before I'm ready and brace myself for the climb back to Hazel Ave. It's just as steep as I recalled, but shorter. I still have to stop to gulp air at the top, but I made it! Now, if only my legs are strong enough for the drive home...
Today I repeat the loop we rode on Sunday. My shoulders are still stiff, but not sore. Parking is no problem, even on a Friday, and it is nice to see so many people making use of the bike trail. The climbs start immediately on leaving the Hatchery, and my back starts complaining. I have a hard time of it on the way up and realize I would probably benefit from a few miles' warmup before tackling hills. My heartrate hits 188 on the last steep climb to Beals Point and I reach the benches feeling like puking or crying, but do neither. I have Beals Point completely to myself, so I sit and watch dried up Folsom Lake for several minutes before I feel ready to tackle the ride back.
As usual, the miles-long coast on the way down is fun, exhilarating, and a little scary around those corners. I reach the dam before I'm ready and brace myself for the climb back to Hazel Ave. It's just as steep as I recalled, but shorter. I still have to stop to gulp air at the top, but I made it! Now, if only my legs are strong enough for the drive home...
Ride Report 9/9
Total 53.5 miles in 3:35 group ride Sacramento-Woodland-Davis-Sacramento
There are only five of us on today's Sacramento Wheelmen ride, including John & Sally on their tandem. After debating on today's destination, we settle on Davis. Some time in the last week I went totally crazy and decided I want to ride Foxy's Fall Century, only a REAL century this time. One hundred miles, hills and all. So, the Wheelmen take my goal to heart and pile on my miles by taking me to Davis via the Tower Bridge, north along the river and then to Woodland. We head south on County Road 102 (Poleline).
The speed is faster than last week's ride and we hover around 17-18mph for most of the ride. The Wheelmen even let me pretend to do them a favor by taking a turn pulling, which I learn is a lot harder than it would seem. It's more difficult to maintain a smooth speed than I expected and my speed jumps from 17.8-19mph and all spots in between. There is no wind whatsoever, but I had not realized how much I was benefiting from being in the back until I am out front. I bow out after only a mile or so and take my rightful place at the back.
Along the way, I get to enjoy the rather large lingo the Wheelmen have for road hazards. "Car back" and "car up" are self-explanatory. "Big back/up" means a large truck is coming. "Really big back" is used when a semi is coming up behind us. They also use "long lead" to refer to a car that's still a ways away, and occasionally "pair up/back" which refers to two cars/trucks.
As we come to downtown Davis, the riders debate about where to go. John and Sally go to Crepeville while the rest of us stop at a new place called Posh Bagels. I just have an ice water and my whole wheat newtons. We stop at the Freewheeler to get air for my rear tire, which has had a slow leak. The pressure is only 40psi, which does not bode well for the ride home. In the meantime, we get distracted drooling over the bikes on display. They have this year's Trek 1.2 WSD on clearance for $719 and a gorgeous Trek WSD (didn't catch the model) that is only $2250. Maybe someday. I ask the sales clerk if they carry Specialized Armadillos, since I am becoming disenchanted with my Gatorskins, and he says they carry something called a hard case tire that is supposed to offer three-layer protection against punctures. I will have to do some research.
I'm not sure what happened to John and Sally, but we three head to the Frontage Rd via bike path, and my rear tire promptly goes flat right after we get to the Frontage Rd. We discuss the merits of CO2 cartridges vs mini pumps, brands of tires/tubes while I change my flat. We are on our way again and head straight to Sacramento on the causeway. Three flats in three weeks. While my average has slowed, I'm still apparently suffering from my flat jinx.
My rear wheel magnet got disturbed during the flat change, so my speedometer readings are inconsistent for several miles. Just when I'm about to stop to fuss with it, it seems to straighten itself out. At least something on the rear wheel works right.
There are only five of us on today's Sacramento Wheelmen ride, including John & Sally on their tandem. After debating on today's destination, we settle on Davis. Some time in the last week I went totally crazy and decided I want to ride Foxy's Fall Century, only a REAL century this time. One hundred miles, hills and all. So, the Wheelmen take my goal to heart and pile on my miles by taking me to Davis via the Tower Bridge, north along the river and then to Woodland. We head south on County Road 102 (Poleline).
The speed is faster than last week's ride and we hover around 17-18mph for most of the ride. The Wheelmen even let me pretend to do them a favor by taking a turn pulling, which I learn is a lot harder than it would seem. It's more difficult to maintain a smooth speed than I expected and my speed jumps from 17.8-19mph and all spots in between. There is no wind whatsoever, but I had not realized how much I was benefiting from being in the back until I am out front. I bow out after only a mile or so and take my rightful place at the back.
Along the way, I get to enjoy the rather large lingo the Wheelmen have for road hazards. "Car back" and "car up" are self-explanatory. "Big back/up" means a large truck is coming. "Really big back" is used when a semi is coming up behind us. They also use "long lead" to refer to a car that's still a ways away, and occasionally "pair up/back" which refers to two cars/trucks.
As we come to downtown Davis, the riders debate about where to go. John and Sally go to Crepeville while the rest of us stop at a new place called Posh Bagels. I just have an ice water and my whole wheat newtons. We stop at the Freewheeler to get air for my rear tire, which has had a slow leak. The pressure is only 40psi, which does not bode well for the ride home. In the meantime, we get distracted drooling over the bikes on display. They have this year's Trek 1.2 WSD on clearance for $719 and a gorgeous Trek WSD (didn't catch the model) that is only $2250. Maybe someday. I ask the sales clerk if they carry Specialized Armadillos, since I am becoming disenchanted with my Gatorskins, and he says they carry something called a hard case tire that is supposed to offer three-layer protection against punctures. I will have to do some research.
I'm not sure what happened to John and Sally, but we three head to the Frontage Rd via bike path, and my rear tire promptly goes flat right after we get to the Frontage Rd. We discuss the merits of CO2 cartridges vs mini pumps, brands of tires/tubes while I change my flat. We are on our way again and head straight to Sacramento on the causeway. Three flats in three weeks. While my average has slowed, I'm still apparently suffering from my flat jinx.
My rear wheel magnet got disturbed during the flat change, so my speedometer readings are inconsistent for several miles. Just when I'm about to stop to fuss with it, it seems to straighten itself out. At least something on the rear wheel works right.
September 8, 2009
Ride Report 9/8
21 miles S Land Park to Florin to Riverside & back north on Freeport
Today I intended to do the Freeport Bridge loop by adding on a few miles on S Land Park (as well as the only hills within miles of my house other than overpasses). I get turned around and end up going away from Freeport on Florin and then on Riverside Blvd. Still, it's a pretty ride and there are bike lanes on all the streets except the nasty stretch on Florin. So, when I finally stumble on Freeport and then realize I'm heading north instead of south, I decide to call it a day and head home. I need to consult mapquest.com before I attempt this route again.
Today I intended to do the Freeport Bridge loop by adding on a few miles on S Land Park (as well as the only hills within miles of my house other than overpasses). I get turned around and end up going away from Freeport on Florin and then on Riverside Blvd. Still, it's a pretty ride and there are bike lanes on all the streets except the nasty stretch on Florin. So, when I finally stumble on Freeport and then realize I'm heading north instead of south, I decide to call it a day and head home. I need to consult mapquest.com before I attempt this route again.
Ride Report 9/6
18.5 mile partnered ride Nimbus Hatchery to Beals Point & back
Today's program calls for hills. YAY!!
Or not. After my ass kicking the day before, my shoulders are a giant ache and I can't move my head much to the side at all. In addition, my lower left back which has been almost silent since early in riding the Bianchi is now protesting loudly about being on a bike today.
The parking at Nimbus Hatchery is ridiculous due to construction. After an emergency trip to the bathroom for me, we are off to ride the only hilly portion of the ARBT trail. My back starts its protest from the first ride up Hazel Ave to the path access. The hills kick my ass for the second day in a row and I spend a good portion of the ride in my little chainring spinning along at 7-8mph.
The ride to Beals Point is supposed to be a warmup for the ride to Auburn, but my lower back is one huge knot at the top of the climb and I have to lay down on my back with my knees in my chest to get the knot to relax. After realizing that I'm not just complaining, T calls the day's ride short.
I'm so wiped out from yesterday's high-speed ride and today's climbing that T actually allows me to just lie down and whine for probably twenty minutes until I'm ready to take the ride back. It's almost entirely downhill and, although not steep, I still ride my brakes quite a bit due to the many blind corners and relatively steady traffic of oncoming cyclists. Still, it's fun to take the ride at 23, 24, 26mph without pedaling.
As we come up to the dam, my stomach starts to churn and my heartrate picks up as I contemplate that last climb from the trail to Hazel. I get my speed up as much as I can, switch my gears and shift into the baby gears when the hill comes around the corner. Toward the top, I want to stop and get off, but with T and the riders at the top of the hill cheering me on, I stutter to the top. If it weren't for the clipless pedals, I never could have made the climb without being able to pull up on the pedals to keep myself moving forward. My legs feel like rubber and I want to get off the bike, but I have to upshift for the coast down the hill to the Hatchery.
Today's program calls for hills. YAY!!
Or not. After my ass kicking the day before, my shoulders are a giant ache and I can't move my head much to the side at all. In addition, my lower left back which has been almost silent since early in riding the Bianchi is now protesting loudly about being on a bike today.
The parking at Nimbus Hatchery is ridiculous due to construction. After an emergency trip to the bathroom for me, we are off to ride the only hilly portion of the ARBT trail. My back starts its protest from the first ride up Hazel Ave to the path access. The hills kick my ass for the second day in a row and I spend a good portion of the ride in my little chainring spinning along at 7-8mph.
The ride to Beals Point is supposed to be a warmup for the ride to Auburn, but my lower back is one huge knot at the top of the climb and I have to lay down on my back with my knees in my chest to get the knot to relax. After realizing that I'm not just complaining, T calls the day's ride short.
I'm so wiped out from yesterday's high-speed ride and today's climbing that T actually allows me to just lie down and whine for probably twenty minutes until I'm ready to take the ride back. It's almost entirely downhill and, although not steep, I still ride my brakes quite a bit due to the many blind corners and relatively steady traffic of oncoming cyclists. Still, it's fun to take the ride at 23, 24, 26mph without pedaling.
As we come up to the dam, my stomach starts to churn and my heartrate picks up as I contemplate that last climb from the trail to Hazel. I get my speed up as much as I can, switch my gears and shift into the baby gears when the hill comes around the corner. Toward the top, I want to stop and get off, but with T and the riders at the top of the hill cheering me on, I stutter to the top. If it weren't for the clipless pedals, I never could have made the climb without being able to pull up on the pedals to keep myself moving forward. My legs feel like rubber and I want to get off the bike, but I have to upshift for the coast down the hill to the Hatchery.
September 5, 2009
Ride Report 9/2
43 miles total, about 35 mile group ride with Sacramento Wheelmen ARBT to Amore & back
Ah, what a nice change! Joe, the Wednesday morning ride leader, is back from vacation and he truly does ride at 15-16mph. There are only four of us at the ride start, but we pick up two more along the way. For a miracle, I'm not the slowest rider in the group, either. The six of us take the ARBT east to Gold River and a small coffee shop called Amore. The owner is a hoot and tells us "This is no Starbucks; this is a classy place!" when we try to bus our tables after eating. Joe offers to buy "the new rider" a drink, so I don't refuse a Mocha Glacier. I learned my lesson about eating food on a warm day, so I stick to my Odwalla bar and the Glacier drink gives me a massive brain freeze when I start to gulp it down.
On the way back, one of the riders starts to bonk from not eating and drinking two cups of coffee and has to stop to eat something. Joe drops back to check on her and they meet up with us where we are waiting at the Howe Ave underpass. On the way out, one of the other riders and I speculated on why some bridges smell like urine and others don't and why you would choose to pee under a bridge rather than in the grass or behind a tree.
I leave the group at the Guy West bridge to shorten my trip home, and as usual get lost in Sac State trying to find my way to J St. I actually end up right behind Joe and another rider who have a similar ride home and we chat the whole way up M St to when I actually split from the group and go south on 34th St to home.
Ah, what a nice change! Joe, the Wednesday morning ride leader, is back from vacation and he truly does ride at 15-16mph. There are only four of us at the ride start, but we pick up two more along the way. For a miracle, I'm not the slowest rider in the group, either. The six of us take the ARBT east to Gold River and a small coffee shop called Amore. The owner is a hoot and tells us "This is no Starbucks; this is a classy place!" when we try to bus our tables after eating. Joe offers to buy "the new rider" a drink, so I don't refuse a Mocha Glacier. I learned my lesson about eating food on a warm day, so I stick to my Odwalla bar and the Glacier drink gives me a massive brain freeze when I start to gulp it down.
On the way back, one of the riders starts to bonk from not eating and drinking two cups of coffee and has to stop to eat something. Joe drops back to check on her and they meet up with us where we are waiting at the Howe Ave underpass. On the way out, one of the other riders and I speculated on why some bridges smell like urine and others don't and why you would choose to pee under a bridge rather than in the grass or behind a tree.
I leave the group at the Guy West bridge to shorten my trip home, and as usual get lost in Sac State trying to find my way to J St. I actually end up right behind Joe and another rider who have a similar ride home and we chat the whole way up M St to when I actually split from the group and go south on 34th St to home.
Ride Report 9/5
43.1 mile group ride with Sacramento Wheelmen, Garden Hwy to Power Line, Elverta Rd and back
Today I continue my growing self-masochistic tendencies and join the "lively" Sacramento Wheelman Saturday morning ride. I know I'm going to get my ass handed to me; it's just a matter of how badly.
Since I show up with T, everyone assumes I know what I'm doing or that T has filled me in as we set off from downtown. As we head north, the speed is not too extreme, but as soon as we hit Garden Hwy, we are close to 20mph and I'm in trouble. I try to hang on to the group, but as the pace picks up to 22-23mph, I get dropped off the back a couple times and T has to actually push me along to catch up to the group. My heartrate is in the 180s and I'm starting to panic. I'm pushing the big gears, but it's too draining. At the halfway point, several riders congratulate me and tell me "Good job." When I complain that I can't keep up, one of them tells me that if I'm close enough that the group waits for me, it still counts.
When we regroup, I desperately suck down some water, but my body is in too much stress to be hungry even after 15 miles or so. The pace picks up immediately, and I get dropped off the back within a couple miles. I'm frustrated and refuse T's offer to push me back up to the group. Thankfully, he lets me get dropped and we tootle along the last half of the ride at about 15mph.
Today I continue my growing self-masochistic tendencies and join the "lively" Sacramento Wheelman Saturday morning ride. I know I'm going to get my ass handed to me; it's just a matter of how badly.
Since I show up with T, everyone assumes I know what I'm doing or that T has filled me in as we set off from downtown. As we head north, the speed is not too extreme, but as soon as we hit Garden Hwy, we are close to 20mph and I'm in trouble. I try to hang on to the group, but as the pace picks up to 22-23mph, I get dropped off the back a couple times and T has to actually push me along to catch up to the group. My heartrate is in the 180s and I'm starting to panic. I'm pushing the big gears, but it's too draining. At the halfway point, several riders congratulate me and tell me "Good job." When I complain that I can't keep up, one of them tells me that if I'm close enough that the group waits for me, it still counts.
When we regroup, I desperately suck down some water, but my body is in too much stress to be hungry even after 15 miles or so. The pace picks up immediately, and I get dropped off the back within a couple miles. I'm frustrated and refuse T's offer to push me back up to the group. Thankfully, he lets me get dropped and we tootle along the last half of the ride at about 15mph.
Ride Report 9/4
32 miles ARBT north access to Elverta Rd, E Levee Rd, Ueda Bike Path to Discovery Park thru Old Sac & home
Today I take the route I meant to take on the first. The computer has been calibrated to the narrower tire size and all is right with the world. I'm getting kind of tired of all the surface streets that cross the north path, but it's not the ARBT, which I have been dreading for the last several weeks because I've ridden it so damn many times. Unfortunately, I took my ride late in the day today (I left around noon), and I start to run into packs of high school age kids spread across the path and completely ignoring the world. The group that does know I'm coming gives me about a foot of path to pass them on. The groups that don't respond to "Bike, Bike, BIKE!" as I'm coming up behind them get cursed at as I have to ride on the dirt beside the path to pass them.
At the end of the trail, I can't stand the thought of passing even more teenagers blocking the path, so I cut across Elverta Road to E Levee and go south to Discovery Park. On the ARBT, I experiment to find my max heartrate and start pedaling as fast and hard as I can. At 23mph I hit 187bpm and feel like I'm going to puke. My legs feel like rubber, so I let off after maybe 30 seconds. The mystified cyclist that I blasted past half a mile back breezes past me as I whimper into Discovery Park at about 14mph. My heartrate yesterday was 186 in 17th gear at 89rpm.
I stop long enough to stop the nauseated feeling and start to limp home through Old Sacramento. Naturally, I get a flat (my 2nd on the Gatorskins) to repair on my back tire. Not impressed with the Gatorskins so far.
Note to self: When experimenting with max heartrate, do it when I'm almost home, not with six miles to go.
Today I take the route I meant to take on the first. The computer has been calibrated to the narrower tire size and all is right with the world. I'm getting kind of tired of all the surface streets that cross the north path, but it's not the ARBT, which I have been dreading for the last several weeks because I've ridden it so damn many times. Unfortunately, I took my ride late in the day today (I left around noon), and I start to run into packs of high school age kids spread across the path and completely ignoring the world. The group that does know I'm coming gives me about a foot of path to pass them on. The groups that don't respond to "Bike, Bike, BIKE!" as I'm coming up behind them get cursed at as I have to ride on the dirt beside the path to pass them.
At the end of the trail, I can't stand the thought of passing even more teenagers blocking the path, so I cut across Elverta Road to E Levee and go south to Discovery Park. On the ARBT, I experiment to find my max heartrate and start pedaling as fast and hard as I can. At 23mph I hit 187bpm and feel like I'm going to puke. My legs feel like rubber, so I let off after maybe 30 seconds. The mystified cyclist that I blasted past half a mile back breezes past me as I whimper into Discovery Park at about 14mph. My heartrate yesterday was 186 in 17th gear at 89rpm.
I stop long enough to stop the nauseated feeling and start to limp home through Old Sacramento. Naturally, I get a flat (my 2nd on the Gatorskins) to repair on my back tire. Not impressed with the Gatorskins so far.
Note to self: When experimenting with max heartrate, do it when I'm almost home, not with six miles to go.
September 1, 2009
Ride Report 9/1
28.2 miles* in 2hrs north bike path to Elverta & back
More fussing with the seat position. I pay more attention to my form today, making sure I keep a bend in my elbow, straighten my back and stay on the rear of the saddle. It seems to work, since I have minimal hand irritation and I can't rule out lingering injuries from my fall on Friday since it's my right hand that gets numb and my right elbow that is far stiffer than my left.
My goal is to maintain 17mph+ the entire way, but this path crosses so many surface streets, I don't average anywhere near that, though I do keep my speed up on the long stretches between roads.
No records set today, although I have to hussle back home and shorten the planned ride (I intended to tack on a few miles by looping out to Discovery Park) to meet a man about selling a dog crate.
*I finally realized today that I have not recalibrated my cycling computer to the new tire width, so I have no idea if that affects my mileage calculations since I installed the Gatorskins.
More fussing with the seat position. I pay more attention to my form today, making sure I keep a bend in my elbow, straighten my back and stay on the rear of the saddle. It seems to work, since I have minimal hand irritation and I can't rule out lingering injuries from my fall on Friday since it's my right hand that gets numb and my right elbow that is far stiffer than my left.
My goal is to maintain 17mph+ the entire way, but this path crosses so many surface streets, I don't average anywhere near that, though I do keep my speed up on the long stretches between roads.
No records set today, although I have to hussle back home and shorten the planned ride (I intended to tack on a few miles by looping out to Discovery Park) to meet a man about selling a dog crate.
*I finally realized today that I have not recalibrated my cycling computer to the new tire width, so I have no idea if that affects my mileage calculations since I installed the Gatorskins.
Ride Report 8/30
30.1 mile partnered ride ARBT Guy West Bridge to Sunrise & back
I still feel a little wiped out from the heat yesterday and from having to get up early (8:00am--hey, I do work swing shift!) two days in a row. I'm still fussing with seat positioning/hand numbness to see if I can resolve the issue. My right hand and elbow are definitely feeling effects of my flip over the handlebars. So, I am not at my best, but I practice drafting and manage to keep up when T pushes it to 20mph for a short period.
As with yesterday, I feel worst when my heartrate creeps up around 170, as if I just don't have any reserves to pull from. I am happy with the way the Gatorskins corner, though, especially since they look as if they have no tread whatsoever. Three days without a flat. A new record for me.
On the way back, the wind comes at us from an angle, so I practice finding the dead spot and drafting to the side. I probably look like a squirrely newbie to the other cyclists on the path as I drift back and fort seeking the magical windless spot. Like I'm not used to looking like an idiot on the trail by now...
One of the cyclists we pass both ways on the path is a teenager on a nice Specialized road bike and who is wearing nice gear. His form is spazzy, but it is nice to see someone so young getting into the sport nonetheless.
I still feel a little wiped out from the heat yesterday and from having to get up early (8:00am--hey, I do work swing shift!) two days in a row. I'm still fussing with seat positioning/hand numbness to see if I can resolve the issue. My right hand and elbow are definitely feeling effects of my flip over the handlebars. So, I am not at my best, but I practice drafting and manage to keep up when T pushes it to 20mph for a short period.
As with yesterday, I feel worst when my heartrate creeps up around 170, as if I just don't have any reserves to pull from. I am happy with the way the Gatorskins corner, though, especially since they look as if they have no tread whatsoever. Three days without a flat. A new record for me.
On the way back, the wind comes at us from an angle, so I practice finding the dead spot and drafting to the side. I probably look like a squirrely newbie to the other cyclists on the path as I drift back and fort seeking the magical windless spot. Like I'm not used to looking like an idiot on the trail by now...
One of the cyclists we pass both ways on the path is a teenager on a nice Specialized road bike and who is wearing nice gear. His form is spazzy, but it is nice to see someone so young getting into the sport nonetheless.
August 29, 2009
Ride Report 8/29
36 miles total, 31 mile group ride with Sacramento Wheelmen
On my Wednesday ride with the Sacramento Wheelmen, I was told about a beginners ride on Saturday mornings, so I set out to meet them. Unfortunately, Discovery Park has a ridiculous number of parking lots, so we almost missed them. There were only four other riders. The pace this time was finally within my abilities, and we averaged about 15-16mph up the trail to Bella Bru at Five Points. I have an Odwalla juice and half a blueberry muffin and listen to the Wheelmen trade accident/flat tire stories.
The food turns out to be a bad idea, when halfway back my stomach starts to rebel over the food, heat and exercise combination. I now feel better about being so picky about my riding snack choices. In spite of my stomach's complaints, I make it back home in one piece and suck down a Diet Coke, jump in the shower and then relax to a Paris Roubaix documentary.
On my Wednesday ride with the Sacramento Wheelmen, I was told about a beginners ride on Saturday mornings, so I set out to meet them. Unfortunately, Discovery Park has a ridiculous number of parking lots, so we almost missed them. There were only four other riders. The pace this time was finally within my abilities, and we averaged about 15-16mph up the trail to Bella Bru at Five Points. I have an Odwalla juice and half a blueberry muffin and listen to the Wheelmen trade accident/flat tire stories.
The food turns out to be a bad idea, when halfway back my stomach starts to rebel over the food, heat and exercise combination. I now feel better about being so picky about my riding snack choices. In spite of my stomach's complaints, I make it back home in one piece and suck down a Diet Coke, jump in the shower and then relax to a Paris Roubaix documentary.
Ride Report 8/28
about 25 mile spin ride
Today is a ride just to put miles on my legs. I push moderately hard and go about 15-16mph. I head south on the Sacramento River trail and see something stuck on my front tire as I exit the path onto Riverside. I keep concentrating on my front tire, and when I look up, I am about 5 feet from a huge brush pile. I don't even have time to react before the Trek hits the pile. I do a complete flip over the handlebars and land on my back in a pile of cherry branches and leaves. Naturally, a jogger comes right along, so I can't pretend no one saw my fall. If only I had caught the whole thing on video, I might make my fortune...
Amazingly, my only casualties appear to be a sore neck and right hand and a few assorted scratches, so I continue on my ride. I do have the urge to sit on the curb and just give up, but it passes quickly.
Today I rode without my gloves because I'm not convinced the fingers aren't cutting off the circulation when I ride with my hands on the shifters. The bad news is riding without the gloves does seem to improve the numbness in my fingers, but the vibrations in the handlebars from the road seem to make the gloves a better prospect than riding barehanded.
Today is a ride just to put miles on my legs. I push moderately hard and go about 15-16mph. I head south on the Sacramento River trail and see something stuck on my front tire as I exit the path onto Riverside. I keep concentrating on my front tire, and when I look up, I am about 5 feet from a huge brush pile. I don't even have time to react before the Trek hits the pile. I do a complete flip over the handlebars and land on my back in a pile of cherry branches and leaves. Naturally, a jogger comes right along, so I can't pretend no one saw my fall. If only I had caught the whole thing on video, I might make my fortune...
Amazingly, my only casualties appear to be a sore neck and right hand and a few assorted scratches, so I continue on my ride. I do have the urge to sit on the curb and just give up, but it passes quickly.
Today I rode without my gloves because I'm not convinced the fingers aren't cutting off the circulation when I ride with my hands on the shifters. The bad news is riding without the gloves does seem to improve the numbness in my fingers, but the vibrations in the handlebars from the road seem to make the gloves a better prospect than riding barehanded.
Ride Report 8/26
Total 45mi, 35mi group ride with Sacramento Wheelmen
I sulked for three days over pinching and flatting three tubes while changing the Bontrager tires for new 700x23 Gatorskins. I finally took them in to the bike shop to have them put new tubes in the tires. Apparently, part of the trick is to put talcum in the tires first and on a nice hot day (is there any other kind in August in Sacramento?), leave the tires in the sun so they get nice and pliable. I take small comfort when the bike store clerk has difficulty getting the last few inches of tire back on the rim.
So, for my first ride on the Gatorskins, I check out a group ride with a local bike club, the Sacramento Wheelmen (who I'm very sorry to admit I did not catch their names). When I arrive at the meeting point, they laugh when I tell them I can't keep up with a paceline over 20mph and assure me they won't go that fast because this is a relaxed ride. Famous last words.
We head north along Steelhead Creek, then E Levee Rd to Elkhorn Blvd, and Garden Hwy to loop back to Discovery Park. The magnet on my rear wheel is misaligned, so I don't have an accurate speedometer or odometer reading for the entire trip, but I do still have my cadence meter, so I try to focus on form/RPMs during the ride.
The Wheelmen are very welcoming, but I can't keep up with the main group even when I shift into the big boy gears. I'm not sure if they don't want to go as fast or if it's out of pity, but a couple of the Wheelmen keep me company in my misery as I try desperately to keep up. When we pause at the intersection of Elkhorn & Garden Hwy, I ask how fast we have been going and I'm told we've averaged 17-20mph. The 15 miles on Garden Hwy seems to last forever, although the views of houses along the river at least make for nice scenery.
We do 35 miles in a little under two hours. The group stops for lunch at Pearl on the River, but I haven't brought any money. I am invited to sit in anyway, and I gulp down 3 glasses of ice water and listen to stories of bike rides/races past. At the end of the meal, the ride leader gives me half of his hamburger that he claims he can't finish. Not a bad ride at all...
After lunch, we take Garden Hwy that allegedly connects again with Discovery Park, but of course I can't find the turn. I do find my way to another path that connects with the bike path. As I rejoin the path, I hear the ominous fipfipfip from my front wheel of a goatshead thorn in my tire. My brand new puncture resistant Gatorskins. And my tire levers are in a bag with the spare tube I bought yesterday. By some miracle, I see a few of the women from the ride on the path and they see me cursing at my front tire. I pray the tube will hold for the 6 miles home, but it goes flat after several hundred yards. I had only just pulled off to the side and flipped the bike over when two of the women come back to check on me. In an amazingly short time, they have the tire off the rim, the tube pulled and the new tube in place. We do have to flag down a male cyclist to help get the last few inches of tire onto the rim without using levers.
So, hot, tired, and cursing my new tires, I finally make it home after my first group ride and having my ass handed to me by a group of senior citizens, most of whom have been riding longer than I've been alive.
I sulked for three days over pinching and flatting three tubes while changing the Bontrager tires for new 700x23 Gatorskins. I finally took them in to the bike shop to have them put new tubes in the tires. Apparently, part of the trick is to put talcum in the tires first and on a nice hot day (is there any other kind in August in Sacramento?), leave the tires in the sun so they get nice and pliable. I take small comfort when the bike store clerk has difficulty getting the last few inches of tire back on the rim.
So, for my first ride on the Gatorskins, I check out a group ride with a local bike club, the Sacramento Wheelmen (who I'm very sorry to admit I did not catch their names). When I arrive at the meeting point, they laugh when I tell them I can't keep up with a paceline over 20mph and assure me they won't go that fast because this is a relaxed ride. Famous last words.
We head north along Steelhead Creek, then E Levee Rd to Elkhorn Blvd, and Garden Hwy to loop back to Discovery Park. The magnet on my rear wheel is misaligned, so I don't have an accurate speedometer or odometer reading for the entire trip, but I do still have my cadence meter, so I try to focus on form/RPMs during the ride.
The Wheelmen are very welcoming, but I can't keep up with the main group even when I shift into the big boy gears. I'm not sure if they don't want to go as fast or if it's out of pity, but a couple of the Wheelmen keep me company in my misery as I try desperately to keep up. When we pause at the intersection of Elkhorn & Garden Hwy, I ask how fast we have been going and I'm told we've averaged 17-20mph. The 15 miles on Garden Hwy seems to last forever, although the views of houses along the river at least make for nice scenery.
We do 35 miles in a little under two hours. The group stops for lunch at Pearl on the River, but I haven't brought any money. I am invited to sit in anyway, and I gulp down 3 glasses of ice water and listen to stories of bike rides/races past. At the end of the meal, the ride leader gives me half of his hamburger that he claims he can't finish. Not a bad ride at all...
After lunch, we take Garden Hwy that allegedly connects again with Discovery Park, but of course I can't find the turn. I do find my way to another path that connects with the bike path. As I rejoin the path, I hear the ominous fipfipfip from my front wheel of a goatshead thorn in my tire. My brand new puncture resistant Gatorskins. And my tire levers are in a bag with the spare tube I bought yesterday. By some miracle, I see a few of the women from the ride on the path and they see me cursing at my front tire. I pray the tube will hold for the 6 miles home, but it goes flat after several hundred yards. I had only just pulled off to the side and flipped the bike over when two of the women come back to check on me. In an amazingly short time, they have the tire off the rim, the tube pulled and the new tube in place. We do have to flag down a male cyclist to help get the last few inches of tire onto the rim without using levers.
So, hot, tired, and cursing my new tires, I finally make it home after my first group ride and having my ass handed to me by a group of senior citizens, most of whom have been riding longer than I've been alive.
August 22, 2009
Ride Report 8/22
22 mile easy ride
Today I'm going for a ride with S. I make my way through south Sacramento against a headwind. I don't have a bike lane for most of the ride, but even when I do, it seems to cause the cars in the lane next to me to drift to within inches of me. Go figure. I survive biking south on 24th St and deliver some mountain biking shorts to S.
She has been biking a total of 8-10 miles a day and has fallen head over heels for the hybrid. She even licensed it the day she picked it up. I am thrilled for her, but now I know how T feels when he rides with me. S & I toddle along at 8-9mph. My heart rate falls to the 90s, then the 80s. Now I know how T feels when he has to ride 18mph with me. But it's still miles on the bike and S's enthusiasm about the hybrid is not mine to quash. I'm impressed when we finish our loop of a little over 8 miles.
When it's time for me to head back, I go faster than I'm supposed to on a long slow ride, but it feels good to be traveling in double digit mph again. I take S Land Park north and for a short while have a pretty nice tailwind. I shift into the big boy gears, but only make 20.8mph and shift back to the middle chainring when the road turns and I have a crosswind again. At the messy intersection of Land Park and Sutterville, a car tries its best to sideswipe me, but I squeeze through and make it home alive today.
Today I'm going for a ride with S. I make my way through south Sacramento against a headwind. I don't have a bike lane for most of the ride, but even when I do, it seems to cause the cars in the lane next to me to drift to within inches of me. Go figure. I survive biking south on 24th St and deliver some mountain biking shorts to S.
She has been biking a total of 8-10 miles a day and has fallen head over heels for the hybrid. She even licensed it the day she picked it up. I am thrilled for her, but now I know how T feels when he rides with me. S & I toddle along at 8-9mph. My heart rate falls to the 90s, then the 80s. Now I know how T feels when he has to ride 18mph with me. But it's still miles on the bike and S's enthusiasm about the hybrid is not mine to quash. I'm impressed when we finish our loop of a little over 8 miles.
When it's time for me to head back, I go faster than I'm supposed to on a long slow ride, but it feels good to be traveling in double digit mph again. I take S Land Park north and for a short while have a pretty nice tailwind. I shift into the big boy gears, but only make 20.8mph and shift back to the middle chainring when the road turns and I have a crosswind again. At the messy intersection of Land Park and Sutterville, a car tries its best to sideswipe me, but I squeeze through and make it home alive today.
Ride Report 8/20
27 mile spin ride on the Trek
It's my day off, so I get to ride in the evening for a change of pace. I remember to take my pepper spray, and have to remind myself that being shouted at by three juveniles is not a pepper sprayable offense.
I take the bike path north along Steelhead Creek, which is so low in some spots that it resembles a slough more than a creek. Still, the view is much nicer than gang graffiti along the north bike path. I still pass "VNS" graffiti along Steelhead Creek and wonder if I need a job that enables me to know that stands for "Varrio Northside."
At the levee road gate, I am disappointed to find out I have only gone 12 miles so far, but the sun is going down, so I turn back south. Out of nowhere, I'm passed by a man on a no-name mountain bike, but this is an easy ride, so my tiny ego and I let him fly by.
I raised my seat a small amount to try to alleviate the numbness that creeps into my hands unless I change position every few minutes. Unfortunately, it's enough of a height difference to throw me off when I try to hit the crosswalk button on Garden Hwy and I overbalance and fall into the weeds. I suppose I should be thankful that I only seem to fall over when I'm at or coming to a stop, but it would be nice not to have an audience for each fall I take.
Just past Old Sacramento, I pass a group of about 15 cyclists, including several Sacramento Golden Wheelmen. My internal debate lasts too long, and by the time I turn around to talk to them, they've dispersed. I follow three cyclists for a few blocks, then lose them when my light turns red. Better luck next time.
It's my day off, so I get to ride in the evening for a change of pace. I remember to take my pepper spray, and have to remind myself that being shouted at by three juveniles is not a pepper sprayable offense.
I take the bike path north along Steelhead Creek, which is so low in some spots that it resembles a slough more than a creek. Still, the view is much nicer than gang graffiti along the north bike path. I still pass "VNS" graffiti along Steelhead Creek and wonder if I need a job that enables me to know that stands for "Varrio Northside."
At the levee road gate, I am disappointed to find out I have only gone 12 miles so far, but the sun is going down, so I turn back south. Out of nowhere, I'm passed by a man on a no-name mountain bike, but this is an easy ride, so my tiny ego and I let him fly by.
I raised my seat a small amount to try to alleviate the numbness that creeps into my hands unless I change position every few minutes. Unfortunately, it's enough of a height difference to throw me off when I try to hit the crosswalk button on Garden Hwy and I overbalance and fall into the weeds. I suppose I should be thankful that I only seem to fall over when I'm at or coming to a stop, but it would be nice not to have an audience for each fall I take.
Just past Old Sacramento, I pass a group of about 15 cyclists, including several Sacramento Golden Wheelmen. My internal debate lasts too long, and by the time I turn around to talk to them, they've dispersed. I follow three cyclists for a few blocks, then lose them when my light turns red. Better luck next time.
August 19, 2009
Ride Report 8/19
32 miles on the Trek
I stayed up until 3:30am reading Ten Points by Bill Strickland (HIGHLY recommended reading), so I get up later than planned and don't leave for my ride until a little after 11am. I do the north trail to Elverta and back, but loop west to Discovery Park then through Old Sacramento to Broadway and home to add a few miles to the route. On the way out, instead of taking 2nd Ave west to 21st St north I turn north on 34th St, which is normally my return route. I am not used to taking this route backward, so I don't cut across to Alhambra in time and end up making a couple U-turns and probably reinforcing a few drivers' opinions about bicycles being unpredictable and flighty. When I get sorted out, an entire family on bikes passes me going the wrong way in traffic. Great example there, dad.
On the access from C and 21st Sts, a fire truck is parked on the path next to an extinguished grass fire, presumably from one of the many homeless campsites set up along the trails. Luckily, the burned area is relatively small, and the fumes are not unbearable. Today is a long slow ride, so I concentrate on my form (bend those elbows! keep that back straight! drop those shoulders!) and cadence and keep my speed 13-15mph for the entire ride.
On the path in Rio Linda, I pass two Sacramento Sheriff and one Twin Rivers PD cars. The officers are talking to a couple walking their dogs. I don't bother introducing myself because I don't talk to the dayshift deputies that often and, at best, I am a voice on the other side of the phone/radio to them. Plus, thanks to budget cutbacks, the fact that two units responded to this event means it was something serious, since there are probably 3 units total to cover this district. I later learn the call was an alleged attempted rape and I vow to take my pepper spray with me from now on when I ride solo.
After a quick break at the trail end, I head back south. A bodybuilder on a small bike yells "You can do it!" as he passes me headed north. A little further, I see a man pulling up his pants while coming out of a culvert. I have ranted to my co-workers enough about "where are the homeless people going to the bathroom" that now I have my answer. Only the man is clearly not a typical transient on a bicycle. He is dressed well, wearing a helmet, and not carrying his life's belongings on his bike. He becomes Mountain Bike Pooper to me (although I suppose he may have just been taking a pee), but he loses me when he squirts through a red light. I'm not sure what I would have said to him, anyway. Right after I lose sight of him, I have to decide how to pass two young men on (of course) BMX bikes, each riding in the center of one lane but both headed south. Since one of them is subjecting me to a view of his entire ass crack, passing them is a priority. I ride between them and past them as fast as I can to save my sanity.
I take a quick break at Discovery Park. When I head south toward Old Sacramento, I see some sort of plant matter stuck to my front wheel. My fears of a thorn seem to be substantiated when it stays there mile after mile (and after the boardwalk). I risk the wrath of the tour train conductor by riding on the asphalt right next to the train tracks rather than on the cobblestones. The conductor(s) and I have a nodding acquaintance thanks to my nearly killing myself on the hybrid to maintain a 17-18mph speed to outpace the train along the Sacramento river bike path stretch. A week or so later, I was riding north next to the train tracks and got a "naughty naughty" finger shake from one of the conductors who felt I was riding too close to the tracks.
It is hot outside and I have not been drinking enough. The light headwind has dried out my contacts so that 8th St looks like 88th St when I pass the street sign. On 2nd Ave, I pass three girls on their bikes. While I am happy to see they are all wearing helmets, they are riding the wrong way and the 30 seconds of their conversation that I overhear makes me glad I never ever have to be a teenager again. By some miracle, there is no thorn in the front tire when I check it at my front gate. Maybe my flat jinx has been cured with a new bike?
I stayed up until 3:30am reading Ten Points by Bill Strickland (HIGHLY recommended reading), so I get up later than planned and don't leave for my ride until a little after 11am. I do the north trail to Elverta and back, but loop west to Discovery Park then through Old Sacramento to Broadway and home to add a few miles to the route. On the way out, instead of taking 2nd Ave west to 21st St north I turn north on 34th St, which is normally my return route. I am not used to taking this route backward, so I don't cut across to Alhambra in time and end up making a couple U-turns and probably reinforcing a few drivers' opinions about bicycles being unpredictable and flighty. When I get sorted out, an entire family on bikes passes me going the wrong way in traffic. Great example there, dad.
On the access from C and 21st Sts, a fire truck is parked on the path next to an extinguished grass fire, presumably from one of the many homeless campsites set up along the trails. Luckily, the burned area is relatively small, and the fumes are not unbearable. Today is a long slow ride, so I concentrate on my form (bend those elbows! keep that back straight! drop those shoulders!) and cadence and keep my speed 13-15mph for the entire ride.
On the path in Rio Linda, I pass two Sacramento Sheriff and one Twin Rivers PD cars. The officers are talking to a couple walking their dogs. I don't bother introducing myself because I don't talk to the dayshift deputies that often and, at best, I am a voice on the other side of the phone/radio to them. Plus, thanks to budget cutbacks, the fact that two units responded to this event means it was something serious, since there are probably 3 units total to cover this district. I later learn the call was an alleged attempted rape and I vow to take my pepper spray with me from now on when I ride solo.
After a quick break at the trail end, I head back south. A bodybuilder on a small bike yells "You can do it!" as he passes me headed north. A little further, I see a man pulling up his pants while coming out of a culvert. I have ranted to my co-workers enough about "where are the homeless people going to the bathroom" that now I have my answer. Only the man is clearly not a typical transient on a bicycle. He is dressed well, wearing a helmet, and not carrying his life's belongings on his bike. He becomes Mountain Bike Pooper to me (although I suppose he may have just been taking a pee), but he loses me when he squirts through a red light. I'm not sure what I would have said to him, anyway. Right after I lose sight of him, I have to decide how to pass two young men on (of course) BMX bikes, each riding in the center of one lane but both headed south. Since one of them is subjecting me to a view of his entire ass crack, passing them is a priority. I ride between them and past them as fast as I can to save my sanity.
I take a quick break at Discovery Park. When I head south toward Old Sacramento, I see some sort of plant matter stuck to my front wheel. My fears of a thorn seem to be substantiated when it stays there mile after mile (and after the boardwalk). I risk the wrath of the tour train conductor by riding on the asphalt right next to the train tracks rather than on the cobblestones. The conductor(s) and I have a nodding acquaintance thanks to my nearly killing myself on the hybrid to maintain a 17-18mph speed to outpace the train along the Sacramento river bike path stretch. A week or so later, I was riding north next to the train tracks and got a "naughty naughty" finger shake from one of the conductors who felt I was riding too close to the tracks.
It is hot outside and I have not been drinking enough. The light headwind has dried out my contacts so that 8th St looks like 88th St when I pass the street sign. On 2nd Ave, I pass three girls on their bikes. While I am happy to see they are all wearing helmets, they are riding the wrong way and the 30 seconds of their conversation that I overhear makes me glad I never ever have to be a teenager again. By some miracle, there is no thorn in the front tire when I check it at my front gate. Maybe my flat jinx has been cured with a new bike?
Ride Report 8/17
0.7 miles on the UCD Aggies cruiser
I had planned on sleeping in ridiculously late today to make up for lack of sleep on the weekend, but I get a call at 10am from my friend Suzette who is anxious to come pick up a loaner bike from me. She has signed up for classes at Sacramento City College for fall semester and wants to bike to/from class. She is so excited, she tells me she even rented a bike locker.
When she comes over, I go over the Performance hybrid with her. I warn her that I think the frame will be too big for her. I lower the saddle, move it as far forward as it will go on the rails, and tilt the handlebars back a bit. We go over shifting/gears (she last rode a single speed bike) and pedaling. I give her my scorned helmet and attach a seat wedge with tire repair tools.
During our test ride, I try to gauge the bike fit as best I can from what I have learned from T and from reading about cycling. Suzette says she is comfortable and I have her practice shifting a few times. I have fun pedaling the big clunky cruiser around, but stopping is a pain with coaster brakes.
I had planned on sleeping in ridiculously late today to make up for lack of sleep on the weekend, but I get a call at 10am from my friend Suzette who is anxious to come pick up a loaner bike from me. She has signed up for classes at Sacramento City College for fall semester and wants to bike to/from class. She is so excited, she tells me she even rented a bike locker.
When she comes over, I go over the Performance hybrid with her. I warn her that I think the frame will be too big for her. I lower the saddle, move it as far forward as it will go on the rails, and tilt the handlebars back a bit. We go over shifting/gears (she last rode a single speed bike) and pedaling. I give her my scorned helmet and attach a seat wedge with tire repair tools.
During our test ride, I try to gauge the bike fit as best I can from what I have learned from T and from reading about cycling. Suzette says she is comfortable and I have her practice shifting a few times. I have fun pedaling the big clunky cruiser around, but stopping is a pain with coaster brakes.
August 16, 2009
Ride Report 8/16
partnered 59.2 miles in 4:09 (not counting breaks) on the Trek
Today, our goal is to reach Beale's Point, the easternmost end of the Jedediah Smith Memorial (aka American River) Bike Path. I don't know how far that is because I only bike the southern branch of the trail, which does not require me to climb the Hazel Ave hill. On the way east from the Guy West Bridge, I work on drafting. The plan is for me to try to catch any cyclists who pass us and draft off them, but T starts me at a stiff pace of 18mph and works us up to 20mph and no one passes us. At the same time, I concentrate on keeping my cadence between 80-100RPM.
Although I feel more comfortable hanging off of T's rear wheel, I still barely stay close enough to benefit from drafting. The Trek feels squirrelly, and I'm all over the path behind him to avoid overrunning his back tire. So, I mainly play a yo-yo game of getting just the right distance (about close enough to just want to scream and hit the brakes), backing off, falling behind and pedaling to catch up. I don't have any reserves this morning and I just can't keep up after several miles.
We break at the Folsom Dam fish hatchery and I have my breakdown for the day. I can't keep up the pace, I'm never going to be any good, I'll never be able to go 20+mph, ad nauseum. These moods come upon me when I have no reserves left and get faced with frustration. I know it's not possible to be a professional cyclist in six or seven weeks, but the overachiever in me is disappointed that I'm not able to keep up with someone who has been racing/cycling for 30 years. I also know that these moods will pass, but in the meantime, I have to put up with the negative comments from the jury inside my head (is that a Rush lyric?).
We continue on to Beale's Point, although I feel ready to go home and give up road biking forever. The ride up Hazel is tough, but not a killer thanks to the triple chainring on the Trek. The important part of climbing hills is to try to keep your cadence up rather than your speed. Still, I wouldn't mind a nap at the top of the hill. We have done most of this ride before, but we didn't make it to the last few miles of hills. And more hills. And then more hills. I ask how far it is to Beale's Point and am told "not very far" (read: about five miles). Some time later I ask how much further. "Just a hop, skip and a jump" (read: at least 1-2 miles). Luckily, the hills have drained any energy I might have for homicidal activities.
At Beale's Point, I collapse on a bench and eat the second half of my first Odwalla bar. A few pieces go to a moth eaten-looking ground squirrel who loiters hopefully nearby. The soda machine is sold out, so after a shortish break we hit the surface streets to go to a convenience store. With a downhill start, I shift into the large chainring (the "big boy" gears) and suddenly I'm pedaling 22mph, then I hit 26mph. It only lasts half a mile at most, but it is exhilarating, especially after being convinced I would never be able to reach those speeds (other than on downhills) only an hour earlier. A Diet Dr Pepper is not the ideal mid-ride drink, but it is cold and caffeinated.
The trail crosses the surface streets right across from the convenience store, so we head back and do mostly downhill, but of course some uphill riding. At times, I am only inching forward at 8mph, but my cadence generally stays above 70RPM. I manage another stretch of 20+mph speeds, but the hill up to Hazel Ave defeats me and I have to dismount and walk up most of it. Past the fish hatchery, I practice drafting off and on, again mainly falling behind a little then catching up, and repeat. I am hot and tired and I start locking my elbows instead of keeping a bend in them. My seat chafes. My feet and elbows hurt. I slog along at about 15-16mph. Back on the surface streets, my left foot starts to ache just below my big toe. It becomes so painful, I am pedaling almost exclusively with my right foot for the last mile. On the other hand, I lowered the tilt on my saddle and moved it forward a bit on the rails, and my lower back has not made a peep the whole ride.
I limp home to potty dogs, eat half an apple and crawl into bed for a short rest before work.
Today, our goal is to reach Beale's Point, the easternmost end of the Jedediah Smith Memorial (aka American River) Bike Path. I don't know how far that is because I only bike the southern branch of the trail, which does not require me to climb the Hazel Ave hill. On the way east from the Guy West Bridge, I work on drafting. The plan is for me to try to catch any cyclists who pass us and draft off them, but T starts me at a stiff pace of 18mph and works us up to 20mph and no one passes us. At the same time, I concentrate on keeping my cadence between 80-100RPM.
Although I feel more comfortable hanging off of T's rear wheel, I still barely stay close enough to benefit from drafting. The Trek feels squirrelly, and I'm all over the path behind him to avoid overrunning his back tire. So, I mainly play a yo-yo game of getting just the right distance (about close enough to just want to scream and hit the brakes), backing off, falling behind and pedaling to catch up. I don't have any reserves this morning and I just can't keep up after several miles.
We break at the Folsom Dam fish hatchery and I have my breakdown for the day. I can't keep up the pace, I'm never going to be any good, I'll never be able to go 20+mph, ad nauseum. These moods come upon me when I have no reserves left and get faced with frustration. I know it's not possible to be a professional cyclist in six or seven weeks, but the overachiever in me is disappointed that I'm not able to keep up with someone who has been racing/cycling for 30 years. I also know that these moods will pass, but in the meantime, I have to put up with the negative comments from the jury inside my head (is that a Rush lyric?).
We continue on to Beale's Point, although I feel ready to go home and give up road biking forever. The ride up Hazel is tough, but not a killer thanks to the triple chainring on the Trek. The important part of climbing hills is to try to keep your cadence up rather than your speed. Still, I wouldn't mind a nap at the top of the hill. We have done most of this ride before, but we didn't make it to the last few miles of hills. And more hills. And then more hills. I ask how far it is to Beale's Point and am told "not very far" (read: about five miles). Some time later I ask how much further. "Just a hop, skip and a jump" (read: at least 1-2 miles). Luckily, the hills have drained any energy I might have for homicidal activities.
At Beale's Point, I collapse on a bench and eat the second half of my first Odwalla bar. A few pieces go to a moth eaten-looking ground squirrel who loiters hopefully nearby. The soda machine is sold out, so after a shortish break we hit the surface streets to go to a convenience store. With a downhill start, I shift into the large chainring (the "big boy" gears) and suddenly I'm pedaling 22mph, then I hit 26mph. It only lasts half a mile at most, but it is exhilarating, especially after being convinced I would never be able to reach those speeds (other than on downhills) only an hour earlier. A Diet Dr Pepper is not the ideal mid-ride drink, but it is cold and caffeinated.
The trail crosses the surface streets right across from the convenience store, so we head back and do mostly downhill, but of course some uphill riding. At times, I am only inching forward at 8mph, but my cadence generally stays above 70RPM. I manage another stretch of 20+mph speeds, but the hill up to Hazel Ave defeats me and I have to dismount and walk up most of it. Past the fish hatchery, I practice drafting off and on, again mainly falling behind a little then catching up, and repeat. I am hot and tired and I start locking my elbows instead of keeping a bend in them. My seat chafes. My feet and elbows hurt. I slog along at about 15-16mph. Back on the surface streets, my left foot starts to ache just below my big toe. It becomes so painful, I am pedaling almost exclusively with my right foot for the last mile. On the other hand, I lowered the tilt on my saddle and moved it forward a bit on the rails, and my lower back has not made a peep the whole ride.
I limp home to potty dogs, eat half an apple and crawl into bed for a short rest before work.
August 15, 2009
Ride Report 8/14
about 30 miles on the Trek in about 3 hours
Happily, the rear tire on the Trek is still inflated, so I head out for the ride I planned to take the day before. As I head north from the American River bike path, I pass a cat lying in the middle of the path. It meows at me as I pass it and I can see that it is injured. When I turn around to better assess him, the cat limps off into the brush. I call several people for possible help, but end up trying to call animal control. The phone switching system is down, and there is nothing I can do for the cat at the moment, so I continue on my ride.
I concentrate on keeping my cadence (pedal RPM) between 80-100 per minute, but pedaling feels most comfortable right around 80 RPM. Above 85 RPM, I feel like I'm pedaling too fast. I shift into my largest chainring (the "big boy" gears), which helps a little. I average 18mph on the path.
At the turnaround point, I call animal control again and describe where the cat is. They call back just after I start back and ask if I can meet the officer. I bike as fast as I can for the next four miles (16-17mph in a gusty headwind) and make it to where I saw the cat last. I had tilted the saddle up a bit to help keep me seated on the back, but my lower left back starts screaming in protest during my four-mile sprint. By the time I get there, the officer is either at the wrong location or he's given up and left. I call animal control back three more times, but the system is down. While I am on the phone, I was balanced on my left foot and my right foot was still clipped in. When I try to turn around, I overbalance and fall onto my right knee. The knee I skinned on Tuesday.
I call animal control again, get through and leave as detailed a description as I can on the cat's location. Then, streaming blood, sunburned, tired, I wheel my way home for a shower and a nap.
Happily, the rear tire on the Trek is still inflated, so I head out for the ride I planned to take the day before. As I head north from the American River bike path, I pass a cat lying in the middle of the path. It meows at me as I pass it and I can see that it is injured. When I turn around to better assess him, the cat limps off into the brush. I call several people for possible help, but end up trying to call animal control. The phone switching system is down, and there is nothing I can do for the cat at the moment, so I continue on my ride.
I concentrate on keeping my cadence (pedal RPM) between 80-100 per minute, but pedaling feels most comfortable right around 80 RPM. Above 85 RPM, I feel like I'm pedaling too fast. I shift into my largest chainring (the "big boy" gears), which helps a little. I average 18mph on the path.
At the turnaround point, I call animal control again and describe where the cat is. They call back just after I start back and ask if I can meet the officer. I bike as fast as I can for the next four miles (16-17mph in a gusty headwind) and make it to where I saw the cat last. I had tilted the saddle up a bit to help keep me seated on the back, but my lower left back starts screaming in protest during my four-mile sprint. By the time I get there, the officer is either at the wrong location or he's given up and left. I call animal control back three more times, but the system is down. While I am on the phone, I was balanced on my left foot and my right foot was still clipped in. When I try to turn around, I overbalance and fall onto my right knee. The knee I skinned on Tuesday.
I call animal control again, get through and leave as detailed a description as I can on the cat's location. Then, streaming blood, sunburned, tired, I wheel my way home for a shower and a nap.
Ride Report 8/13
3 miles? on the UCD Aggies cruiser
When I check the Trek for my planned bike ride, the rear tire is flat. I realize the only spare tube I have for those size tires (700x28) has a Schrader valve, so I have to patch the flat tube. It takes most of an hour to wrestle the tire off the rim, pull the tube, find and patch the puncture and then wrestle the tire back on the rim. Then the tube will not inflate, even after I try 2 floor pumps and 1 CO2 cartridge. So I wrestle the tire back off the rim, pull the tube and discover a tear in the tube near the valve stem.
The Bontrager tires on the Trek were eventually going to be swapped for those on the Bianchi, so I decide to go ahead and get that done now that I have one of the tires off already and an unusable tube. The Fortezza tires are at least as hard to wrestle off the rim as the Bontrager, but I finally get the rear tube/tire swapped and check the tire before I inflate it and discover the tire is sliced. After more swearing and crying (unfortunately, I'm not exaggerating), I get the second tire off the Bianchi and discover and even bigger slice in that tire.
At this point, I realize a quick repair and getting back on schedule is not going to happen. I head off to College Cyclery on my UCD Aggies cruiser, looking truly odd in my road biking clothes and sunglasses on a single-speed bike. I pick up 2 tubes for the Trek and mosey home. My sum total accomplishment for the day is changing the flat on the Trek.
When I check the Trek for my planned bike ride, the rear tire is flat. I realize the only spare tube I have for those size tires (700x28) has a Schrader valve, so I have to patch the flat tube. It takes most of an hour to wrestle the tire off the rim, pull the tube, find and patch the puncture and then wrestle the tire back on the rim. Then the tube will not inflate, even after I try 2 floor pumps and 1 CO2 cartridge. So I wrestle the tire back off the rim, pull the tube and discover a tear in the tube near the valve stem.
The Bontrager tires on the Trek were eventually going to be swapped for those on the Bianchi, so I decide to go ahead and get that done now that I have one of the tires off already and an unusable tube. The Fortezza tires are at least as hard to wrestle off the rim as the Bontrager, but I finally get the rear tube/tire swapped and check the tire before I inflate it and discover the tire is sliced. After more swearing and crying (unfortunately, I'm not exaggerating), I get the second tire off the Bianchi and discover and even bigger slice in that tire.
At this point, I realize a quick repair and getting back on schedule is not going to happen. I head off to College Cyclery on my UCD Aggies cruiser, looking truly odd in my road biking clothes and sunglasses on a single-speed bike. I pick up 2 tubes for the Trek and mosey home. My sum total accomplishment for the day is changing the flat on the Trek.
August 11, 2009
Ride Report 8/11
23? miles in a lot of time on the Trek
I have to find a way to mount my mini pump and a second bottle cage on the Trek, so I head to some local bike stores to see if any of them carry premade gadgets to help me out. The first store does not carry frame mounts for pumps or for bottle cages. The sales clerk who is helping me is nice enough to test ride the Trek and dismisses my concerns about the front brake hissing when it is engaged. The second store does not have bottle cage mounts for the Trek's fatter frame, but they do give me extra rubber strips to pad hose clamps and protect the bike frame. I head out on my ride to the bike trail to Elverta and back.
To my surprise, I don't feel like listening to music today. I am content to listen to the sounds of traffic. In contrast to last week, most of the bike path occupants are courteous or at least neutral as I go by. Twice, cars stop to wave me through crosswalks. What is wrong with people today? A couple miles short of my halfway point, I pass Bernie going south on the path. We both stop and turn around.
I join him going south, and Bernie pays proper homage to the new bike. He agrees that it is the proper size for me and that my riding form is improved just by being on a correct bike. We discuss my equipment mounting issues and the unusual weather (overcast, windy and surprisingly nice for a day with a forecast high of 102) for the short distance before his exit.
On my way back through downtown, I try one more bike store. They do not have a bottle cage mount, but they tell me to check with the "guys in back" to see if they have a spare pump mount. They do, and it fits my fat mini pump when it's extended, so one problem out of the way. I have no choice but to go with hose clamps again to mount a second bottle cage.
As I get home, I decide to test the brakes again. I put my hands on the drops and brake hard on my corner. I have my left foot unclipped to balance on, so I naturally fall over onto my right side, reopening the almost-healed scab on my right knee. I swear loudly, which may be why I do not hear inquiries into my well-being from my neighbors sitting on their porch across the street. Dripping blood and with a bruised ego, I make my way inside to patch up both.
I have to find a way to mount my mini pump and a second bottle cage on the Trek, so I head to some local bike stores to see if any of them carry premade gadgets to help me out. The first store does not carry frame mounts for pumps or for bottle cages. The sales clerk who is helping me is nice enough to test ride the Trek and dismisses my concerns about the front brake hissing when it is engaged. The second store does not have bottle cage mounts for the Trek's fatter frame, but they do give me extra rubber strips to pad hose clamps and protect the bike frame. I head out on my ride to the bike trail to Elverta and back.
To my surprise, I don't feel like listening to music today. I am content to listen to the sounds of traffic. In contrast to last week, most of the bike path occupants are courteous or at least neutral as I go by. Twice, cars stop to wave me through crosswalks. What is wrong with people today? A couple miles short of my halfway point, I pass Bernie going south on the path. We both stop and turn around.
I join him going south, and Bernie pays proper homage to the new bike. He agrees that it is the proper size for me and that my riding form is improved just by being on a correct bike. We discuss my equipment mounting issues and the unusual weather (overcast, windy and surprisingly nice for a day with a forecast high of 102) for the short distance before his exit.
On my way back through downtown, I try one more bike store. They do not have a bottle cage mount, but they tell me to check with the "guys in back" to see if they have a spare pump mount. They do, and it fits my fat mini pump when it's extended, so one problem out of the way. I have no choice but to go with hose clamps again to mount a second bottle cage.
As I get home, I decide to test the brakes again. I put my hands on the drops and brake hard on my corner. I have my left foot unclipped to balance on, so I naturally fall over onto my right side, reopening the almost-healed scab on my right knee. I swear loudly, which may be why I do not hear inquiries into my well-being from my neighbors sitting on their porch across the street. Dripping blood and with a bruised ego, I make my way inside to patch up both.
August 9, 2009
Ride Report 8/9
Partnered 40 miles in 2:39 on the Trek
It involved a 6.5-hour road trip, but I have bicycle that is sized for me! The Trek Pilot 1.2 was only ridden 25 miles before the owner decided she did not like it and would stick to her mountain bike. We left the SPD pedals with her to sell with her cycling shoes (but had to go to the local bike shop for a wrench with enough leverage to get the pedals off). Unfortunately, the frame is too fat to rig a second bottle cage with the hose clamps I used on the Bianchi, but I strap the mini pump to the frame with a tiny bungee cord and plan yet another run to the bike store. I managed to find a cycling computer on clearance that measures cadence, and I stayed up far too late to get it mounted on the Trek.
Today is a fairly easy ride since we're both tired from the road trip. I practice drafting on the way east on the bike trail. The Trek feels hyper responsive compared to the Bianchi and it will take a few more rides for me to feel completely comfortable on it. I notice the difference between the bikes most on cornering. The Bianchi could handle fairly tight turns (which I'm not supposed to do), but the Trek feels like it is about to take a tumble when I try to take a corner tightly. At any rate, I do so-so in drafting and poke along at about 18 mph.
On the way back, I attempt drafting for a short time, but mainly just yak and spin along at 16-17mph. It's an off day for both T and I, so we take it easy. I don't think I will stop at the Watt Ave bridge again to refill water bottles, though. The odors from the bridge and the bathroom make for a hostile environment.
I feel disloyal to the Bianchi, but I can't help comparing it negatively to just about everything about the Trek. My elbows still ache, but only time will tell if that is something I have to build up over time or if it is left over from riding a bike that was too long for me.
On the way home, I practice riding while sitting up and with my hands off the handlebars. When I tried this on Thursday on the Bianchi, I could sit up with a couple of fingers on the handlebars to stabilize it, but the second I lifted my hand, the steering went crazy and I had to grab the handlebars. Today, on my first attempt I can sit up. My second attempt I can pedal along with my arms out at my sides. Then I pedal with my arms straight up, practicing my victorious race finish pose. T tells me I will have to work on my 30mph sprinting first. Party pooper.
It involved a 6.5-hour road trip, but I have bicycle that is sized for me! The Trek Pilot 1.2 was only ridden 25 miles before the owner decided she did not like it and would stick to her mountain bike. We left the SPD pedals with her to sell with her cycling shoes (but had to go to the local bike shop for a wrench with enough leverage to get the pedals off). Unfortunately, the frame is too fat to rig a second bottle cage with the hose clamps I used on the Bianchi, but I strap the mini pump to the frame with a tiny bungee cord and plan yet another run to the bike store. I managed to find a cycling computer on clearance that measures cadence, and I stayed up far too late to get it mounted on the Trek.
Today is a fairly easy ride since we're both tired from the road trip. I practice drafting on the way east on the bike trail. The Trek feels hyper responsive compared to the Bianchi and it will take a few more rides for me to feel completely comfortable on it. I notice the difference between the bikes most on cornering. The Bianchi could handle fairly tight turns (which I'm not supposed to do), but the Trek feels like it is about to take a tumble when I try to take a corner tightly. At any rate, I do so-so in drafting and poke along at about 18 mph.
On the way back, I attempt drafting for a short time, but mainly just yak and spin along at 16-17mph. It's an off day for both T and I, so we take it easy. I don't think I will stop at the Watt Ave bridge again to refill water bottles, though. The odors from the bridge and the bathroom make for a hostile environment.
I feel disloyal to the Bianchi, but I can't help comparing it negatively to just about everything about the Trek. My elbows still ache, but only time will tell if that is something I have to build up over time or if it is left over from riding a bike that was too long for me.
On the way home, I practice riding while sitting up and with my hands off the handlebars. When I tried this on Thursday on the Bianchi, I could sit up with a couple of fingers on the handlebars to stabilize it, but the second I lifted my hand, the steering went crazy and I had to grab the handlebars. Today, on my first attempt I can sit up. My second attempt I can pedal along with my arms out at my sides. Then I pedal with my arms straight up, practicing my victorious race finish pose. T tells me I will have to work on my 30mph sprinting first. Party pooper.
August 7, 2009
Shopping for a New Bike
It has been an interesting week shopping for bicycles online. I started last weekend by checking craigslist religiously every few hours for possible bikes. One of my co-workers is appalled to discover that this will be my fourth bike and that I have no immediate intention of having fewer than that. The criteria changes a little over the week. At first, I am looking for any newer bike that is the right frame size (estimated at 52cm), but as the days go by and I do more research, I start to narrow it to women’s specific road bikes.
Frames are allegedly unisex nowadays. The old men’s straight top tube and women’s step-through frames have been largely replaced by what is called compact geometry frames that have a slightly canted top tube and usually a fatter down tube. The materials available have expanded to steel, aluminum, and carbon. The last is going to be out of my price range regardless, but I still check out a few carbon bikes for sale and try not to drool too much. In the last several years, women’s specific bikes have captured a tiny part of the serious road bike market. They make allowances for proportionately longer legs and shorter reach. After dealing with increasing aches and pains from riding an incorrect size bike, I want the best deal I can get for my money.
The difficulty with craigslist ads is that a lot of sellers don’t know much about the bikes they are advertising. The ones who do know exactly what the market value is on the bikes they are selling and price them accordingly. I think I have a lead on a genuine steal of a bike, a Novara Carema for $300. When I email the seller, she tells me she already sold it. The next time I check craigslist, I see the bike listed again for $580. It was snapped up by a flipper. It’s still a decent price for a nice bike, so I go ahead and contact the new seller while trying to contain my irritation at his buying “my” bike.
When I first started looking at road bikes a couple months ago, I was basically looking for the cheapest one possible, but T turned down every bike I showed him. After doing more research and reading, I know what to look for, but it’s still hard to resist forwarding ads for twisted chrome hoopdie lowriders or unicycles or other random bikes.
Poor T was inundated over the last week with every reasonable prospect I found. Today I went to Performance Bike for miscellaneous supplies, and to my surprise they had a Fuji Finest 2.0 in about my size. I took it for a ride and it felt just about the right size, which it turns out is 50cm instead of 52cm. I also rode a “unisex” Scattante Three Thirty in a 51cm, and it felt a bit too long. So much for unisex bikes.
The art of bike shopping is the frame. It needs to be the best you can afford and the best fit you can find. Everything else on the bike can be upgraded or adjusted, so the frame has to be the deciding factor. On the other hand, if you can get better components for the same price, it saves you the hassle (and money) of upgrading later. The original plan for my road bike was to buy a frame and then strip everything off the Bianchi, but they just don’t sell women’s frames and I found a few nice prospects on craigslist. All in the Bay Area, but there you go.
Tomorrow is the big day. Choice No. 1 is a Trek Pilot 1.2 with Shimano Tiagra/105 components. Choice No. 2 is a Novara Carema with Shimano Tiagra components (if I can ever coordinate a viewing date/time with the seller). Choice No. 3 is a Fuji Finest 2.0 with Shimano Sora/Tiagra components.
Frames are allegedly unisex nowadays. The old men’s straight top tube and women’s step-through frames have been largely replaced by what is called compact geometry frames that have a slightly canted top tube and usually a fatter down tube. The materials available have expanded to steel, aluminum, and carbon. The last is going to be out of my price range regardless, but I still check out a few carbon bikes for sale and try not to drool too much. In the last several years, women’s specific bikes have captured a tiny part of the serious road bike market. They make allowances for proportionately longer legs and shorter reach. After dealing with increasing aches and pains from riding an incorrect size bike, I want the best deal I can get for my money.
The difficulty with craigslist ads is that a lot of sellers don’t know much about the bikes they are advertising. The ones who do know exactly what the market value is on the bikes they are selling and price them accordingly. I think I have a lead on a genuine steal of a bike, a Novara Carema for $300. When I email the seller, she tells me she already sold it. The next time I check craigslist, I see the bike listed again for $580. It was snapped up by a flipper. It’s still a decent price for a nice bike, so I go ahead and contact the new seller while trying to contain my irritation at his buying “my” bike.
When I first started looking at road bikes a couple months ago, I was basically looking for the cheapest one possible, but T turned down every bike I showed him. After doing more research and reading, I know what to look for, but it’s still hard to resist forwarding ads for twisted chrome hoopdie lowriders or unicycles or other random bikes.
Poor T was inundated over the last week with every reasonable prospect I found. Today I went to Performance Bike for miscellaneous supplies, and to my surprise they had a Fuji Finest 2.0 in about my size. I took it for a ride and it felt just about the right size, which it turns out is 50cm instead of 52cm. I also rode a “unisex” Scattante Three Thirty in a 51cm, and it felt a bit too long. So much for unisex bikes.
The art of bike shopping is the frame. It needs to be the best you can afford and the best fit you can find. Everything else on the bike can be upgraded or adjusted, so the frame has to be the deciding factor. On the other hand, if you can get better components for the same price, it saves you the hassle (and money) of upgrading later. The original plan for my road bike was to buy a frame and then strip everything off the Bianchi, but they just don’t sell women’s frames and I found a few nice prospects on craigslist. All in the Bay Area, but there you go.
Tomorrow is the big day. Choice No. 1 is a Trek Pilot 1.2 with Shimano Tiagra/105 components. Choice No. 2 is a Novara Carema with Shimano Tiagra components (if I can ever coordinate a viewing date/time with the seller). Choice No. 3 is a Fuji Finest 2.0 with Shimano Sora/Tiagra components.
Roller Ride, Take 2 (8/6)
It’s been two weeks since my aborted first attempt to ride on the rollers. I considered riding on the hybrid rather than the Bianchi, but decide it will improve my handling skills more if I practice on the bike I ride the most. The bruise from my fall has almost faded into nothing, but I have a nice knot still where my leg met the roller frame.
I set the rollers up again in a doorway so that I can catch myself with my elbow or with my shoulder if (okay, when) I overbalance. My shoulders are already killing me from when I used a gas-powered weedwhacker earlier in the day, so this will be a short ride regardless. I get going with minimal difficulties (ie, letting go of the door frame), and as before, I find it much easier if I concentrate on a point ahead of me (in this case the stove) rather than down at the front wheel. I am also much stabler the faster I pedal, but I still stick around 13mph until I force myself to go faster.
After about 15 minutes of no falls, only a couple of overbalancing incidents that didn’t require me to stop and restart, and keeping both wheels on the frame, I call it a good session and end on a successful note.
I set the rollers up again in a doorway so that I can catch myself with my elbow or with my shoulder if (okay, when) I overbalance. My shoulders are already killing me from when I used a gas-powered weedwhacker earlier in the day, so this will be a short ride regardless. I get going with minimal difficulties (ie, letting go of the door frame), and as before, I find it much easier if I concentrate on a point ahead of me (in this case the stove) rather than down at the front wheel. I am also much stabler the faster I pedal, but I still stick around 13mph until I force myself to go faster.
After about 15 minutes of no falls, only a couple of overbalancing incidents that didn’t require me to stop and restart, and keeping both wheels on the frame, I call it a good session and end on a successful note.
Ride Report 8/5
28 miles in 2:17 on the Bianchi
This is my fourth ride wearing gloves, and (as with most things in this life) they have their advantages and their disadvantages. The main disadvantage is lack of feel for the road. I had not realized how much information was coming to me through the bike, and I lose feedback by wearing gel-padded gloves. The gloves are fingerless, and when I ride with my hands on the shifters, the fingerholes restrict circulation in my first and second fingers. This could be due more to the fact that the Bianchi is too long for me, so I am almost completely stretched out when I ride on the shifters (to have access to the brakes). Riding in the drops bends me in half, but I don’t have to stretch as far forward.
This is my third ride with the wedges on my shoes. I started with two per side, but added a third wedge to the left side, which seemed to still be getting sore from pedaling. “Le wedge,” as I’ve come to call them, was developed by Greg Lemond to redistribute a cyclist’s weight while pedaling and to alleviate ankle and knee strains.
Today I ride the north trail to Elverta again. I’m half hoping to run into Bernie again, but I know that is not likely. I know how far north I’ve gone on the trail by the changing gang graffiti as by the arches erected over the trail announcing each new neighborhood. (Noralto? Robla? I’ve never heard of them.) The Norteños prevail in Del Paso Heights. I know I’m close to the halfway point when I pass Juggalo graffiti in Rio Linda.
The trail occupants seem seedier, more hostile today. Instead of families spread out across the path, I go through/past groups of juvenile boys who barely acknowledge me let alone make room for me to pass. I meet only one or two other cyclists, both going south, and a handful of other bike riders. I am only putting out about 80% effort, but I’m going 16-17mph, so I know I’ve got a tailwind behind me.
At the northern most gazebo, I stop to eat a melted protein bar (must remember to stock up on Odwalla bars). Someone smashed a beer bottle on the cement, and I crack and pop my way to the drinking fountain and back.
I try to concentrate on my form today, reminding myself over and over to keep a bend in my elbow, to keep my back straight, to flex my ankles when I pedal. The size problem in the Bianchi is becoming more apparent the longer I ride it, and it is time for me to get a bicycle sized for me. My right knee is twingy for the first mile and a half on the way back. I have no idea if it’s a knee problem or if I need to do more experimenting with wedges. I recall the osteoarthritic (minimal) changes to both knees noted in my x-rays and decide I probably need to be taking glucosamine supplements.
The headwind on the way back slows me a bit, but this is supposed to be an easy ride. When I get home, I find out another experiment has succeeded: my foster dog did not eat the kitchen while I was gone.
This is my fourth ride wearing gloves, and (as with most things in this life) they have their advantages and their disadvantages. The main disadvantage is lack of feel for the road. I had not realized how much information was coming to me through the bike, and I lose feedback by wearing gel-padded gloves. The gloves are fingerless, and when I ride with my hands on the shifters, the fingerholes restrict circulation in my first and second fingers. This could be due more to the fact that the Bianchi is too long for me, so I am almost completely stretched out when I ride on the shifters (to have access to the brakes). Riding in the drops bends me in half, but I don’t have to stretch as far forward.
This is my third ride with the wedges on my shoes. I started with two per side, but added a third wedge to the left side, which seemed to still be getting sore from pedaling. “Le wedge,” as I’ve come to call them, was developed by Greg Lemond to redistribute a cyclist’s weight while pedaling and to alleviate ankle and knee strains.
Today I ride the north trail to Elverta again. I’m half hoping to run into Bernie again, but I know that is not likely. I know how far north I’ve gone on the trail by the changing gang graffiti as by the arches erected over the trail announcing each new neighborhood. (Noralto? Robla? I’ve never heard of them.) The Norteños prevail in Del Paso Heights. I know I’m close to the halfway point when I pass Juggalo graffiti in Rio Linda.
The trail occupants seem seedier, more hostile today. Instead of families spread out across the path, I go through/past groups of juvenile boys who barely acknowledge me let alone make room for me to pass. I meet only one or two other cyclists, both going south, and a handful of other bike riders. I am only putting out about 80% effort, but I’m going 16-17mph, so I know I’ve got a tailwind behind me.
At the northern most gazebo, I stop to eat a melted protein bar (must remember to stock up on Odwalla bars). Someone smashed a beer bottle on the cement, and I crack and pop my way to the drinking fountain and back.
I try to concentrate on my form today, reminding myself over and over to keep a bend in my elbow, to keep my back straight, to flex my ankles when I pedal. The size problem in the Bianchi is becoming more apparent the longer I ride it, and it is time for me to get a bicycle sized for me. My right knee is twingy for the first mile and a half on the way back. I have no idea if it’s a knee problem or if I need to do more experimenting with wedges. I recall the osteoarthritic (minimal) changes to both knees noted in my x-rays and decide I probably need to be taking glucosamine supplements.
The headwind on the way back slows me a bit, but this is supposed to be an easy ride. When I get home, I find out another experiment has succeeded: my foster dog did not eat the kitchen while I was gone.
August 3, 2009
And the Winner Is...
I received the results of my GTT and knee x-rays on Saturday. My 2-hour post glucose was 83, or normal, and my knees show no soft tissue changes or evidence of trauma, although there are "minimal osteoarthritic changes." Great. At least I picked a low-impact sport to take up in my golden years. I didn't realize my doctor ordered a complete panel, including cholesterol and triglycerides, but those results are also low normal. Yay, I'm healthy!
Ride Report 8/3
20 miles in 1:32 on the hybrid
Today is a recovery day, so I don't push myself at all. Still, I have a nice tailwind on the way north along the Steelhead Creek bike path. I try not to be a snob about riding in the large chainring, and downshift to the middle chainring for the ride back in a headwind. I check my pedal RPMs against the timer on the cycling computer and downshift if my pedal rate is too low. This is a far cry from the biking I did a few years ago on my Iron Horse Outlaw Pro (I still miss you, baby!), when I went for the highest gear in which I could pedal. My knees and lower back thank me for my change in perspective.
It is nice to hop on the hybrid with minimal wardrobe adjustments, but do miss the clipless pedals when it comes time to go uphill. I suppose I am becoming a convert to road biking, although I do wish someone would do something about the road saddles.
Today is a recovery day, so I don't push myself at all. Still, I have a nice tailwind on the way north along the Steelhead Creek bike path. I try not to be a snob about riding in the large chainring, and downshift to the middle chainring for the ride back in a headwind. I check my pedal RPMs against the timer on the cycling computer and downshift if my pedal rate is too low. This is a far cry from the biking I did a few years ago on my Iron Horse Outlaw Pro (I still miss you, baby!), when I went for the highest gear in which I could pedal. My knees and lower back thank me for my change in perspective.
It is nice to hop on the hybrid with minimal wardrobe adjustments, but do miss the clipless pedals when it comes time to go uphill. I suppose I am becoming a convert to road biking, although I do wish someone would do something about the road saddles.
August 2, 2009
Ride Report 8/2
Partnered 35 miles in 3:10 (including emergency chain repair & break) on the Bianchi
To vary the scenery a little (and to hopefully avoid a headwind on the way home), we ride east on the residential streets off of American River Drive. To my dismay, there are quite a few short hills as well. On the first and steepest hill, the Bianchi skips in every gear I try. Hoping it is a derailleur malfunction, I try shifting chainrings and then going up and down every gear, but the chain still skips. I muddle through, trying not to put undue force on the pedals until we reach Bannister Park, where T fights with the link that has popped off the rivet on one side. While I act as a human kickstand, I mentally add a few more items that need to be bought on payday: a chain tool, a master link, tiny pliers, and a new chain for the bike frame I will be choosing on Saturday (even though I am assured that the repaired chain should be just fine).
We take the bike trail back, coasting down an awesome hill from Bannister Park. I practice drafting again for most of the way home and do fairly well if I do say so myself. Naturally, we still have a headwind. Just east of Hagan Park, a deer calmly crosses the bike path in front of us. We pick up another drafter around Hagan Park, and my (lack of) drafting skill fails to scare him off for the 7.5 miles he follows us. The time and distance fly by as I concentrate on maintaining drafting distance, and at one point I look at my computer and discover that I am going 19mph! We separate from our drafter at Sac State. I whine for a break after the stiff pace I just biked. After planning out a frame shopping session for Saturday, I get turned around as usual trying to find my way off campus and head home.
To vary the scenery a little (and to hopefully avoid a headwind on the way home), we ride east on the residential streets off of American River Drive. To my dismay, there are quite a few short hills as well. On the first and steepest hill, the Bianchi skips in every gear I try. Hoping it is a derailleur malfunction, I try shifting chainrings and then going up and down every gear, but the chain still skips. I muddle through, trying not to put undue force on the pedals until we reach Bannister Park, where T fights with the link that has popped off the rivet on one side. While I act as a human kickstand, I mentally add a few more items that need to be bought on payday: a chain tool, a master link, tiny pliers, and a new chain for the bike frame I will be choosing on Saturday (even though I am assured that the repaired chain should be just fine).
We take the bike trail back, coasting down an awesome hill from Bannister Park. I practice drafting again for most of the way home and do fairly well if I do say so myself. Naturally, we still have a headwind. Just east of Hagan Park, a deer calmly crosses the bike path in front of us. We pick up another drafter around Hagan Park, and my (lack of) drafting skill fails to scare him off for the 7.5 miles he follows us. The time and distance fly by as I concentrate on maintaining drafting distance, and at one point I look at my computer and discover that I am going 19mph! We separate from our drafter at Sac State. I whine for a break after the stiff pace I just biked. After planning out a frame shopping session for Saturday, I get turned around as usual trying to find my way off campus and head home.
Ride Report 8/1
Partnered 40 miles in 3:40 (including all breaks) on the Bianchi
Today's mission: practice drafting. Drafting consists of riding just behind another cyclist to benefit from their slipstream. It decreases the drafter's biking effort by up to 30%, but only when s/he is 4-12 inches behind another rider. I tried this for a short time last week, but it was on the way back from a 50-mile ride and my concentration was fairly nonexistent at that point.
As soon as we hit the bike trail from Sac State, I have to practice drafting. The first obstacle is the mental block on riding that closely to another cyclist. The next problem is what to watch. If I concentrate solely on T's rear tire, I get motion sick because I don't know what's coming on the trail ahead. If I concentrate on T/the bike trail, I'm afraid of overrunning his rear tire and sending myself into a somersault.
Frustrated that he can't watch me, T scouts the trail for other rider(s) going at a good clip that I can draft behind while he rides beside me. Our kindly drafting hosts for the trip east are a senior couple on a tandem that keep up a speed of around 17mph. They are very encouraging about my "metric century" (a compromise since I feel guilty saying "century" for a 100K ride). The woman tells us they ride out to La Bou on Folsom and back for a 40-mile round trip. Even though I feel more comfortable tailgating the tandem bike, I still spend only a small fraction of the ride at a close enough distance to be truly drafting. Sadly, my suggestion that we ride a tandem and just say I drafted is turned down.
On the ride back, we draft behind a trio of cyclists who keep a pace of 16-17mph (guaranteeing we get passed by just about every other road biker on the path). The time flies for me when I am so busy concentrating on the riders in front of me. Again, I only draft successfully for a tiny fraction of the time, but I don't freak out quite so much at riding so closely to another cyclist. We pass a large group of recumbent cyclists getting ready to ride and I can't help feeling jealous that they get to ride bikes you can nap on.
Today I rode with the wedges on my shoes and with cycling gloves (gel padded). My feet are still sore, but not screaming in the road shoes. The gloves are a mixed blessing. I give up sensitivity/responsiveness to the handlebars and they are not very comfortable when I ride with my hands draped on the shift levers, but I will reserve final judgment on the gloves until I ride my new bike that will be sized for me.
Today's mission: practice drafting. Drafting consists of riding just behind another cyclist to benefit from their slipstream. It decreases the drafter's biking effort by up to 30%, but only when s/he is 4-12 inches behind another rider. I tried this for a short time last week, but it was on the way back from a 50-mile ride and my concentration was fairly nonexistent at that point.
As soon as we hit the bike trail from Sac State, I have to practice drafting. The first obstacle is the mental block on riding that closely to another cyclist. The next problem is what to watch. If I concentrate solely on T's rear tire, I get motion sick because I don't know what's coming on the trail ahead. If I concentrate on T/the bike trail, I'm afraid of overrunning his rear tire and sending myself into a somersault.
Frustrated that he can't watch me, T scouts the trail for other rider(s) going at a good clip that I can draft behind while he rides beside me. Our kindly drafting hosts for the trip east are a senior couple on a tandem that keep up a speed of around 17mph. They are very encouraging about my "metric century" (a compromise since I feel guilty saying "century" for a 100K ride). The woman tells us they ride out to La Bou on Folsom and back for a 40-mile round trip. Even though I feel more comfortable tailgating the tandem bike, I still spend only a small fraction of the ride at a close enough distance to be truly drafting. Sadly, my suggestion that we ride a tandem and just say I drafted is turned down.
On the ride back, we draft behind a trio of cyclists who keep a pace of 16-17mph (guaranteeing we get passed by just about every other road biker on the path). The time flies for me when I am so busy concentrating on the riders in front of me. Again, I only draft successfully for a tiny fraction of the time, but I don't freak out quite so much at riding so closely to another cyclist. We pass a large group of recumbent cyclists getting ready to ride and I can't help feeling jealous that they get to ride bikes you can nap on.
Today I rode with the wedges on my shoes and with cycling gloves (gel padded). My feet are still sore, but not screaming in the road shoes. The gloves are a mixed blessing. I give up sensitivity/responsiveness to the handlebars and they are not very comfortable when I ride with my hands draped on the shift levers, but I will reserve final judgment on the gloves until I ride my new bike that will be sized for me.
August 1, 2009
Research
Since I'm missing the incentive to ride this week, I'm hoping a trip to the library will help reignite my motivation.
The Noncyclist's Guide to the Century and Other Road Races by Dawn Dais. Not only is the author a local, she is also hilarious. This book chronicles the trials and tribulations of the author as she trains for a century (100 mile) ride. Full of practical beginner advice, this book is also great just for sheer entertainment.
Bicycling for Dummies by Allen St. John. As with all of the Dummies series, this is a great book for spelling everything out. Great book for beginners or for experienced riders who want to learn more. This covers all the basics from types of bikes, riding styles, maintenance, and activities.
The Complete Guide to Road Cycling & Racing by William Peveler. This is a more technical book than the first two. Full of good information, but more oriented to intermediate/advanced riders. Still, a nice comprehensive book.
Big Blue Book of Bicycle Repair by C. Calvin Jones. Haven't read this one yet, but it comes highly recommended from multiple sources.
Changing Gears by Jane Schnell. This is not a how-to book but rather the journal of a woman who biked the perimeter of the United States over the period of a year. Inspiring, if rather dated (published in 1987).
The Noncyclist's Guide to the Century and Other Road Races by Dawn Dais. Not only is the author a local, she is also hilarious. This book chronicles the trials and tribulations of the author as she trains for a century (100 mile) ride. Full of practical beginner advice, this book is also great just for sheer entertainment.
Bicycling for Dummies by Allen St. John. As with all of the Dummies series, this is a great book for spelling everything out. Great book for beginners or for experienced riders who want to learn more. This covers all the basics from types of bikes, riding styles, maintenance, and activities.
The Complete Guide to Road Cycling & Racing by William Peveler. This is a more technical book than the first two. Full of good information, but more oriented to intermediate/advanced riders. Still, a nice comprehensive book.
Big Blue Book of Bicycle Repair by C. Calvin Jones. Haven't read this one yet, but it comes highly recommended from multiple sources.
Changing Gears by Jane Schnell. This is not a how-to book but rather the journal of a woman who biked the perimeter of the United States over the period of a year. Inspiring, if rather dated (published in 1987).
Ride Report 7/30
27.65 miles in 2:?? on the Bianchi
I am feeling very unmotivated this week. I have to bully myself into going for a ride. My stomach has been bothering me all week, my body aches, and I am almost constantly hungry. A small part of it is the dread of cycling the same miles of the bike trail over and over. Another part is not having a working MP3 player at the moment and having to rely on the 100 or so songs I really like on my cell phone. So today I decide to just bike for biking's sake and take the north bike trail off the American River path that goes all the way to Elverta.
The weather is actually pretty nice and I maintain 17+ mph on the way north. The path goes through some skanky parts of town, but it's prettier than I recalled. Unfortunately, the drinking fountains at almost every little gazebo/rest stop are broken or just missing. So few cyclists use the path that the pedestrians don't know what to do when I approach and/or they spread over the entire width of the path and I have to squeeze past them on the wrong side.
The trail ends in Elverta, and the final gazebo has a working drinking fountain. Grateful, I pull in to park in the shade, eat an Odwalla bar (chocolate chip something, highly recommended) and top off my water bottles. I also take off my shoes for a few precious minutes. Just when I am pondering leaving to finish my ride, another cyclist joins me in the gazebo.
We don't actually introduce ourselves until just before he leaves on the ride back. Bernie (or Bernard) looks to be in his mid- or late-60s and has been biking since the 50s. After I admire his Steve Rex road bike, he tells me about the bike with a Brooks saddle he rode from '53-'83 when it was stolen, then the bike he rode until 1996 when it was stolen from right outside his house when he went inside to get a tool to adjust the bike, and then the Rex bike which he has ridden since. I hear about some of the rides he's done, get advice on road biking ("always keep a crook in your elbow" and "do miles"), and where to bike locally. Bernie joins me for five miles on my return trip, and, as always, the time flies when I have a biking partner.
Bernie was someone I needed to meet today. Someone to help me get centered, a little more motivated, and also someone to reassure me that I'll be fine for my century. I feel embarrassed that he kept calling it a century, when in my mind, a true century is 100 miles, not 100 kilometers.
I am feeling very unmotivated this week. I have to bully myself into going for a ride. My stomach has been bothering me all week, my body aches, and I am almost constantly hungry. A small part of it is the dread of cycling the same miles of the bike trail over and over. Another part is not having a working MP3 player at the moment and having to rely on the 100 or so songs I really like on my cell phone. So today I decide to just bike for biking's sake and take the north bike trail off the American River path that goes all the way to Elverta.
The weather is actually pretty nice and I maintain 17+ mph on the way north. The path goes through some skanky parts of town, but it's prettier than I recalled. Unfortunately, the drinking fountains at almost every little gazebo/rest stop are broken or just missing. So few cyclists use the path that the pedestrians don't know what to do when I approach and/or they spread over the entire width of the path and I have to squeeze past them on the wrong side.
The trail ends in Elverta, and the final gazebo has a working drinking fountain. Grateful, I pull in to park in the shade, eat an Odwalla bar (chocolate chip something, highly recommended) and top off my water bottles. I also take off my shoes for a few precious minutes. Just when I am pondering leaving to finish my ride, another cyclist joins me in the gazebo.
We don't actually introduce ourselves until just before he leaves on the ride back. Bernie (or Bernard) looks to be in his mid- or late-60s and has been biking since the 50s. After I admire his Steve Rex road bike, he tells me about the bike with a Brooks saddle he rode from '53-'83 when it was stolen, then the bike he rode until 1996 when it was stolen from right outside his house when he went inside to get a tool to adjust the bike, and then the Rex bike which he has ridden since. I hear about some of the rides he's done, get advice on road biking ("always keep a crook in your elbow" and "do miles"), and where to bike locally. Bernie joins me for five miles on my return trip, and, as always, the time flies when I have a biking partner.
Bernie was someone I needed to meet today. Someone to help me get centered, a little more motivated, and also someone to reassure me that I'll be fine for my century. I feel embarrassed that he kept calling it a century, when in my mind, a true century is 100 miles, not 100 kilometers.
July 28, 2009
Ride Report 7/28
32 miles in 2:20 on the Bianchi
I am starting to have a mental block about biking the American River trail. When I lived in Rancho Cordova, I couldn't get enough of the trail, but now I have to talk myself into it. Something about just going miles in the same direction, then turning around and backtracking does not appeal lately. I have a couple of alternate routes I wouldn't mind trying out, but I don't know how the water situation is and don't want to get stranded with empty water bottles miles from home.
So, to CSUS, east on the bike trail for 10+ miles, then turn around. Today's experimental energy bar is a Protein Plus(?) peanut butter chocolate bar. A tad heavy, but otherwise pretty good.
I'm wearing my Long's special over the frame sunglasses until I can afford to get prescription biking sunglasses. Unfortunately, they are a bit small to fit over my current glasses, so I'm wearing them over an old pair. The combination of an old prescription and the pinching on my temples is giving me a headache and making me a little nauseated and I decide I will go back to my little clip on shades for now.
I'm starting to recognize some of the other cyclists on the trail and gave/got a few friendly nods as we passed each other going the other way. I feel so special!
I am starting to have a mental block about biking the American River trail. When I lived in Rancho Cordova, I couldn't get enough of the trail, but now I have to talk myself into it. Something about just going miles in the same direction, then turning around and backtracking does not appeal lately. I have a couple of alternate routes I wouldn't mind trying out, but I don't know how the water situation is and don't want to get stranded with empty water bottles miles from home.
So, to CSUS, east on the bike trail for 10+ miles, then turn around. Today's experimental energy bar is a Protein Plus(?) peanut butter chocolate bar. A tad heavy, but otherwise pretty good.
I'm wearing my Long's special over the frame sunglasses until I can afford to get prescription biking sunglasses. Unfortunately, they are a bit small to fit over my current glasses, so I'm wearing them over an old pair. The combination of an old prescription and the pinching on my temples is giving me a headache and making me a little nauseated and I decide I will go back to my little clip on shades for now.
I'm starting to recognize some of the other cyclists on the trail and gave/got a few friendly nods as we passed each other going the other way. I feel so special!
July 27, 2009
Ride Report 7/26
Partnered ride, 50 miles in 4:45 (including all breaks) on the Bianchi
When last we left off, today's ride was to be about the same length as last week's partnered ride (41 miles) but with some hills. We join the American River bike trail at the usual spot (the Guy West bridge at CSUS) and head east. My form is not bad today and apparently the few minutes I was able to stay upright on the rollers may have helped straighten me out. Unfortunately, for most of the ride I forget to watch the trail up ahead rather than the patch of road directly ahead of me. When I remember to look ahead, steering/handling comes much more naturally. The raised seat on the Bianchi has been causing grumblings from my lower back, so it has been moved forward on the rails to shorten my reach.
Around 17 miles into the ride, the idea of at least wading in the water starts becomes irresistible, and T heads toward a good stopping point at Lake Natoma that unfortunately involves going up the "suicide hill" (because I want to kill myself at the thought of tackling it) on Hazel Ave. I arrive at the top wheezing and feeling like I'm about to throw up. I actually make it down the other side without injuring myself (or anyone else), but I discover riding almost completely horizontally with my hands on the drops (lower handles) puts a bit of a strain on my neck.
At the midpoint, I waste no time getting into the water. After being reassured that riding back in wet clothes may be uncomfortable but won't actually damage anything, I swim for a couple of minutes in very cold water. One of the geese becomes very interested in my Odwalla banana nut bar, and when I try to stand up for my rights, she hisses at me, so I beat a hasty retreat.
On the way back, I curse every hill we ride, and I have to dismount to walk up the hill to Hazel Ave. My dip in the lake helped me a bit, but by the time we are around Hagan Park, I am flagging. My feet hurt, my toes are numb, my elbows ache, and the webs of my hands have not-quite blisters developing. I realize I will need to get biking gloves, preferably gel padded. T quizzes me about where my feet hurt (on the outside)and tells me I also need to get wedges for my shoes that will correct my tendency to put weight on the outside of my foot.
For a short while, I attempt drafting behind T. This is one rider benefits from riding in the slipstream of the front rider. To do this, however, you have to be right behind the cyclist in front of you. Like one foot or less behind him/her. When I finally get close enough, I find it hard to watch the road and the bike in front of me. I'm too tired to concentrate, so I drop back.
On the top of the hill at mile marker 22 on the trail, we pass a barking coyote, which leads to speculation on why it was out in daylight and why it was barking. Added to a suicidal ground squirrel, a homicidal goose, cartoonish quail, and mourning doves too lazy to fly in the afternoon heat, it's been a wildlife-filled day.
I manage to muddle my way home without falling over and get patted on the back for accomplishing something few people can (or really would want to) do: biking 50 miles and still able to stand at the end of the ride. It would be a greater victory if T's mileage total for the day wasn't 80.
When last we left off, today's ride was to be about the same length as last week's partnered ride (41 miles) but with some hills. We join the American River bike trail at the usual spot (the Guy West bridge at CSUS) and head east. My form is not bad today and apparently the few minutes I was able to stay upright on the rollers may have helped straighten me out. Unfortunately, for most of the ride I forget to watch the trail up ahead rather than the patch of road directly ahead of me. When I remember to look ahead, steering/handling comes much more naturally. The raised seat on the Bianchi has been causing grumblings from my lower back, so it has been moved forward on the rails to shorten my reach.
Around 17 miles into the ride, the idea of at least wading in the water starts becomes irresistible, and T heads toward a good stopping point at Lake Natoma that unfortunately involves going up the "suicide hill" (because I want to kill myself at the thought of tackling it) on Hazel Ave. I arrive at the top wheezing and feeling like I'm about to throw up. I actually make it down the other side without injuring myself (or anyone else), but I discover riding almost completely horizontally with my hands on the drops (lower handles) puts a bit of a strain on my neck.
At the midpoint, I waste no time getting into the water. After being reassured that riding back in wet clothes may be uncomfortable but won't actually damage anything, I swim for a couple of minutes in very cold water. One of the geese becomes very interested in my Odwalla banana nut bar, and when I try to stand up for my rights, she hisses at me, so I beat a hasty retreat.
On the way back, I curse every hill we ride, and I have to dismount to walk up the hill to Hazel Ave. My dip in the lake helped me a bit, but by the time we are around Hagan Park, I am flagging. My feet hurt, my toes are numb, my elbows ache, and the webs of my hands have not-quite blisters developing. I realize I will need to get biking gloves, preferably gel padded. T quizzes me about where my feet hurt (on the outside)and tells me I also need to get wedges for my shoes that will correct my tendency to put weight on the outside of my foot.
For a short while, I attempt drafting behind T. This is one rider benefits from riding in the slipstream of the front rider. To do this, however, you have to be right behind the cyclist in front of you. Like one foot or less behind him/her. When I finally get close enough, I find it hard to watch the road and the bike in front of me. I'm too tired to concentrate, so I drop back.
On the top of the hill at mile marker 22 on the trail, we pass a barking coyote, which leads to speculation on why it was out in daylight and why it was barking. Added to a suicidal ground squirrel, a homicidal goose, cartoonish quail, and mourning doves too lazy to fly in the afternoon heat, it's been a wildlife-filled day.
I manage to muddle my way home without falling over and get patted on the back for accomplishing something few people can (or really would want to) do: biking 50 miles and still able to stand at the end of the ride. It would be a greater victory if T's mileage total for the day wasn't 80.
July 25, 2009
Roller Ride 7/24
After fasting overnight and then getting poked and prodded at the lab, I don't have much time in the afternoon for a ride, so I decide to try out the rollers T dropped off for me to work on my balance. I set it up in a doorway, as instructed, so that I could catch myself with my shoulders if I tipped over too far. When I first got on the bike on the rollers, I couldn't let go of the door frame without losing my balance. Then, something clicked and for a few short minutes, I caught the trick of looking ahead of me instead of down at the front tire. Then, I overbalanced and the front tire went off the roller. I was intending on doing at least 30 minutes on the rollers, so I got back on the bike, which promptly went sideways underneath me and I came down on the roller frame just below my right hip. That pretty much finished my first ride on the rollers.
July 23, 2009
Blood Donation Day
6 miles roundtrip on the hybrid to/from my blood donation appointment. That is all the riding I intend to do today. I notice on the way to BloodSource that I have developed the habit of narrating my rides as if I were a character on Scrubs.
July 22, 2009
Ride Report 7/22
Timed interval ride of 14.97 miles in 1:11 on the Bianchi, 3 sprints of 2.5 min each
The first sprint is pathetic and I barely go over 18mph. The second, I manage 21mph for a brief period. The third I keep steady at about 19mph.
On the way back while coming to a stop at a light, either my foot or the bike slips in a puddle and the poor Bianchi falls over on its side. No flats today, though.
The first sprint is pathetic and I barely go over 18mph. The second, I manage 21mph for a brief period. The third I keep steady at about 19mph.
On the way back while coming to a stop at a light, either my foot or the bike slips in a puddle and the poor Bianchi falls over on its side. No flats today, though.
July 21, 2009
Ride Report 7/21
30.5 miles in 2:45 (including changing flat #5 this week [this has to be some kind of record. I await your call, Guinness Book of Records] and collapsing for a break at mile 28) on the Bianchi
My feet and hands ache. My elbows and shoulders are stiff. My calves feel like rubber bands when I walk. Why am I doing this again?
I replace the spare tube and CO2 cartridge in the seat wedge in case my flat tire jinx continues. Today, I am staying on established bike paths and city streets. Around mile 5, I see something stuck to the front tire. When I stop to check it out, I discover it is a thorn. The front tire still has almost full pressure, so I decide to ride it out for an optimal tire-changing location. The tire still has probably 3/4 pressure when I find a nice shady spot in Old Sacramento to make repairs. I replace the tube in about 10 minutes and I'm on my way again.
On the surface streets, I average 15-16 mph. On the bike paths, I average 17-18 mph. At the turnaround point at Watt Ave, I have to get off the bike to soothe my whining feet. Today has been such a struggle at some points that I finish the ride by looping through Sac State and home. I have to get home to meet a prospective adopter for my foster kitten.
My feet and hands ache. My elbows and shoulders are stiff. My calves feel like rubber bands when I walk. Why am I doing this again?
I replace the spare tube and CO2 cartridge in the seat wedge in case my flat tire jinx continues. Today, I am staying on established bike paths and city streets. Around mile 5, I see something stuck to the front tire. When I stop to check it out, I discover it is a thorn. The front tire still has almost full pressure, so I decide to ride it out for an optimal tire-changing location. The tire still has probably 3/4 pressure when I find a nice shady spot in Old Sacramento to make repairs. I replace the tube in about 10 minutes and I'm on my way again.
On the surface streets, I average 15-16 mph. On the bike paths, I average 17-18 mph. At the turnaround point at Watt Ave, I have to get off the bike to soothe my whining feet. Today has been such a struggle at some points that I finish the ride by looping through Sac State and home. I have to get home to meet a prospective adopter for my foster kitten.
July 20, 2009
Ride Report 7/20
32.5 miles in ?:?? on the Bianchi
Luckily, I remembered to check the tires before I left the house, because the rear tire on the Bianchi is flat. I get it changed in only 20 minutes, but I am down to one spare tube now.
I head south on Land Park to add some miles to my Freeport to Freeport Bridge to levy road and West Sacramento route. After meandering my way on Windridge to Pocket Road, I finally catch Freeport Blvd south to the bridge across the Sacramento River. My pace on the city streets is 16 mph. As always, I cross the bridge by holding my breath, not looking down and holding onto the bike for dear life. The Freeport Bridge is open mesh grate that provides a spectacular view of the river twenty feet below you.
The pavement on the levy road is rougher than I'd remembered, but I last rode it on the hybrid, which is quite cushy compared to the Bianchi (front shocks, seat shock, lower psi tires). The ride is skull rattling at times, so I ride far from the shoulder where the roughest spots are. Due to the cross/headwind, my speed is only about 14-15 mph on most of the levy road. For one glorious mile or more on River Road, I maintain a pace of 19 mph.
When I get back on the levy road, I see something stuck on the front tire, but I know if it's a thorn I don't want to pull it out. Around mile 24, my feet can't take anymore and I have to stop to dismount for a short break. I check the pressure on the front tire and my heart falls when the tire is squishy. T put a liner in the front tire, and I don't want to try to wrestle it all back together on the road. I call a friend for a ride, but her truck is out of commission and T doesn't have a vehicle today that can fit the Bianchi, so I fix the flat on the side of the road. I take out the liner and replace the tube. The one good thing about the whole experience is that my first time using a CO2 pump works like a charm. It inflates the tube in seconds! Unfortunately, the cartridges are one-time use only. After I gather together my tools and repack the seat wedge, I notice a truck pulled over on the side of the road about ten yards ahead of me. The driver is sitting in the truck, watching me in his side mirror. I have no idea if he was just making sure I got finished safely or if he had ulterior motives, but as I pass his truck, I really wish I had my pepper spray on me.
I continue my ride with no further excitement, although I compulsively check both tires every time I have to stop at a light. My clipping in/out has been less than impressive today and I had to look down about half the time to find out why my cleat wouldn't click into the pedal. About a mile from home, I see an old animal rescue friend of mine on the sidewalk and I stop to catch up with her for about 20 minutes.
I stagger home hours late and with just enough time to potty the dogs, eat lunch and get ready for work. I need to leave early to pick up more spare tubes and a CO2 cartridge at the bike store...
Luckily, I remembered to check the tires before I left the house, because the rear tire on the Bianchi is flat. I get it changed in only 20 minutes, but I am down to one spare tube now.
I head south on Land Park to add some miles to my Freeport to Freeport Bridge to levy road and West Sacramento route. After meandering my way on Windridge to Pocket Road, I finally catch Freeport Blvd south to the bridge across the Sacramento River. My pace on the city streets is 16 mph. As always, I cross the bridge by holding my breath, not looking down and holding onto the bike for dear life. The Freeport Bridge is open mesh grate that provides a spectacular view of the river twenty feet below you.
The pavement on the levy road is rougher than I'd remembered, but I last rode it on the hybrid, which is quite cushy compared to the Bianchi (front shocks, seat shock, lower psi tires). The ride is skull rattling at times, so I ride far from the shoulder where the roughest spots are. Due to the cross/headwind, my speed is only about 14-15 mph on most of the levy road. For one glorious mile or more on River Road, I maintain a pace of 19 mph.
When I get back on the levy road, I see something stuck on the front tire, but I know if it's a thorn I don't want to pull it out. Around mile 24, my feet can't take anymore and I have to stop to dismount for a short break. I check the pressure on the front tire and my heart falls when the tire is squishy. T put a liner in the front tire, and I don't want to try to wrestle it all back together on the road. I call a friend for a ride, but her truck is out of commission and T doesn't have a vehicle today that can fit the Bianchi, so I fix the flat on the side of the road. I take out the liner and replace the tube. The one good thing about the whole experience is that my first time using a CO2 pump works like a charm. It inflates the tube in seconds! Unfortunately, the cartridges are one-time use only. After I gather together my tools and repack the seat wedge, I notice a truck pulled over on the side of the road about ten yards ahead of me. The driver is sitting in the truck, watching me in his side mirror. I have no idea if he was just making sure I got finished safely or if he had ulterior motives, but as I pass his truck, I really wish I had my pepper spray on me.
I continue my ride with no further excitement, although I compulsively check both tires every time I have to stop at a light. My clipping in/out has been less than impressive today and I had to look down about half the time to find out why my cleat wouldn't click into the pedal. About a mile from home, I see an old animal rescue friend of mine on the sidewalk and I stop to catch up with her for about 20 minutes.
I stagger home hours late and with just enough time to potty the dogs, eat lunch and get ready for work. I need to leave early to pick up more spare tubes and a CO2 cartridge at the bike store...
July 19, 2009
Helmet or No Helmet?
No ride today. I wake up feeling every inch of yesterday's 41 miles taken out on my body, plus I managed to pull the left side of my neck.
When I first started riding my Townie in March 2008, I did not wear my helmet, even though I owned one. I reasoned that I wasn't going that fast on the Townie, so why bother? After one of my co-workers was horrified to hear that I rode helmetless, I started to rethink matters. Her concern made me wonder why I didn't wear a helmet. I always wear a seatbelt, I only cross at the light; what part of my ego thought I was above a bike helmet?
After reading up online on bicycle accidents (T also has a great story about another cyclist's chain breaking, flying off and embedding itself in his helmet), I promised my co-worker I would wear a helmet from then on. Why I was willing to promise that to someone else but not to myself may make an interesting question for a psychologist. Really, what it comes down to is that I have become very fond of my brain. It has served me for many years, and I would like it to continue to do so. And now that I live in Oak Park, I have to ride through four or more miles of city before I can reach any of the bike paths. That, combined with my propensity to fall down, is added reason to wear protective gear. (It has already been suggested that I might consider adding elbow & knee pads to my outfit.)
In return for protecting it from the very small chance of a head injury, I am willing to look silly and put up with helmet hair.
When I first started riding my Townie in March 2008, I did not wear my helmet, even though I owned one. I reasoned that I wasn't going that fast on the Townie, so why bother? After one of my co-workers was horrified to hear that I rode helmetless, I started to rethink matters. Her concern made me wonder why I didn't wear a helmet. I always wear a seatbelt, I only cross at the light; what part of my ego thought I was above a bike helmet?
After reading up online on bicycle accidents (T also has a great story about another cyclist's chain breaking, flying off and embedding itself in his helmet), I promised my co-worker I would wear a helmet from then on. Why I was willing to promise that to someone else but not to myself may make an interesting question for a psychologist. Really, what it comes down to is that I have become very fond of my brain. It has served me for many years, and I would like it to continue to do so. And now that I live in Oak Park, I have to ride through four or more miles of city before I can reach any of the bike paths. That, combined with my propensity to fall down, is added reason to wear protective gear. (It has already been suggested that I might consider adding elbow & knee pads to my outfit.)
In return for protecting it from the very small chance of a head injury, I am willing to look silly and put up with helmet hair.
July 18, 2009
Ride Report 7/18
41.61 miles in 3:50 (including all breaks, mishaps, refilling water bottles, etc) on the Bianchi
I am outfitted today in genuine biking clothing: jersey, shorts, socks (yes, they make biking socks), shoes (I'm told I'm starting to look like a real cyclist!). I practice clipping in/out of the pedals on my way to Sac State and am pleased to find they really do make a difference in pedaling. The new cleats are hard to stand on, so I pray for a curb at any red lights I have to go through. I meet T at the Guy West Bridge, and we have both forgotten that it is the day of the Eppie's Great Race, so the American River bike path is off limits. Instead, we bike to Davis and back (this is actually an easier ride than the planned one due to its complete lack of any hills). On our way out of Sac State, we have to stop to wait for cars to go through an intersection. I try to balance the bike, but come to a stop without unclipping and fall onto my right side. Yet another skinned knee and very minor road rash to my right elbow, and we're on our way. I reassure T that I haven't broken a bone yet, so it's not likely to happen on his watch.
Once we get past the stop and go of downtown Sacramento, we maintain a steady speed of not-quite 17mph to Davis. My heart rate stays lower than typical in the mid 140s. A pit stop at Peet's Coffee in Davis, window shopping at Davis Wheelworks (I like the classic style road bikes, T leans toward a Cervelo road bike, but it's a moot point because everything we are looking at costs a few thousand dollars) which is not quite open yet. We both stare in horror at what we can only hope is a bike that was put together because they could. It is a time trial bike with a camo frame, some sort of animal fur swatches under the seat and the handlebars, and antlers mounted on the handlebars.
The seat on the Bianchi is adjusted upward a small distance because the new cleats make me taller. My back is a little grumbly and I have to unclip my feet every few miles to get circulation back in my toes. T and I agree that my handling has improved a lot since last week and I now handle the Bianchi like a hungover monkey rather than like a drunken monkey. Thanks to a tip from T (watch the road far ahead of you), I am actually riding in a mostly straight line today. It is difficult not to just stare at my front wheel and zone out.
At about mile 28 I can feel myself flagging. I concentrate on the causeway, on my form, and maintaining a steady pedal speed. I get a second wind when we reach West Sacramento and manage to finish the ride with a little bit of energy left! T and I work out the next week's rides for me and I actually earn some praise tempered with the amount of improvement I still have to make.
I am outfitted today in genuine biking clothing: jersey, shorts, socks (yes, they make biking socks), shoes (I'm told I'm starting to look like a real cyclist!). I practice clipping in/out of the pedals on my way to Sac State and am pleased to find they really do make a difference in pedaling. The new cleats are hard to stand on, so I pray for a curb at any red lights I have to go through. I meet T at the Guy West Bridge, and we have both forgotten that it is the day of the Eppie's Great Race, so the American River bike path is off limits. Instead, we bike to Davis and back (this is actually an easier ride than the planned one due to its complete lack of any hills). On our way out of Sac State, we have to stop to wait for cars to go through an intersection. I try to balance the bike, but come to a stop without unclipping and fall onto my right side. Yet another skinned knee and very minor road rash to my right elbow, and we're on our way. I reassure T that I haven't broken a bone yet, so it's not likely to happen on his watch.
Once we get past the stop and go of downtown Sacramento, we maintain a steady speed of not-quite 17mph to Davis. My heart rate stays lower than typical in the mid 140s. A pit stop at Peet's Coffee in Davis, window shopping at Davis Wheelworks (I like the classic style road bikes, T leans toward a Cervelo road bike, but it's a moot point because everything we are looking at costs a few thousand dollars) which is not quite open yet. We both stare in horror at what we can only hope is a bike that was put together because they could. It is a time trial bike with a camo frame, some sort of animal fur swatches under the seat and the handlebars, and antlers mounted on the handlebars.
The seat on the Bianchi is adjusted upward a small distance because the new cleats make me taller. My back is a little grumbly and I have to unclip my feet every few miles to get circulation back in my toes. T and I agree that my handling has improved a lot since last week and I now handle the Bianchi like a hungover monkey rather than like a drunken monkey. Thanks to a tip from T (watch the road far ahead of you), I am actually riding in a mostly straight line today. It is difficult not to just stare at my front wheel and zone out.
At about mile 28 I can feel myself flagging. I concentrate on the causeway, on my form, and maintaining a steady pedal speed. I get a second wind when we reach West Sacramento and manage to finish the ride with a little bit of energy left! T and I work out the next week's rides for me and I actually earn some praise tempered with the amount of improvement I still have to make.
July 17, 2009
Ride Report 7/17
14.81 miles in 1:14 on the hybrid
Last night, the Bianchi got a small workover in preparation for Saturday's ride. The front tire now has a liner to prevent any more flats (caused by a thorn in the tire that has now killed 2 tubes in as many days). The rear wheel is trued (straightened) and new clip pedals installed (not the exact ones, but close). I have also been given a "real" bike helmet to replace my "cheap-looking" Bell Adrenaline (I'm alarmed to discover that the color of my helmet is "cyanotic"). The replacement helmet is red and looks like an alien skull. At least it matches the bike.
Trying not to begrudge wasted time this morning. I got in to the lab to do my glucose tolerance test, but they only do those between 8-8:30 am (it was 10am). The x-ray lab does not open until 11am, so I run an errand to the vet clinic (turning down their generous offer to take the three kittens some asshat left outside their front door in a box) and go back to the lab to be told the "x-ray guy" isn't in today. So, we'll try again next Friday when I have my rescheduled GTT.
In preparation for tomorrow's partnered distance (aka ass-kicking) ride, an easy spin ride today. It's nice to be able to throw on plain bike shorts, t-shirt and sneakers for once, along with my maligned helmet. A case of mistaken identity has be chasing a random cyclist for a short period on the bike trail and I get to mosey my way back to the levy via Expo and Commerce Blvds. Luckily, the hybrid handles packed dirt and gravel better than I do. It's HOT outside, and when I get home, I vow not to go outside until it's a civilized temperature.
Last night, the Bianchi got a small workover in preparation for Saturday's ride. The front tire now has a liner to prevent any more flats (caused by a thorn in the tire that has now killed 2 tubes in as many days). The rear wheel is trued (straightened) and new clip pedals installed (not the exact ones, but close). I have also been given a "real" bike helmet to replace my "cheap-looking" Bell Adrenaline (I'm alarmed to discover that the color of my helmet is "cyanotic"). The replacement helmet is red and looks like an alien skull. At least it matches the bike.
Trying not to begrudge wasted time this morning. I got in to the lab to do my glucose tolerance test, but they only do those between 8-8:30 am (it was 10am). The x-ray lab does not open until 11am, so I run an errand to the vet clinic (turning down their generous offer to take the three kittens some asshat left outside their front door in a box) and go back to the lab to be told the "x-ray guy" isn't in today. So, we'll try again next Friday when I have my rescheduled GTT.
In preparation for tomorrow's partnered distance (aka ass-kicking) ride, an easy spin ride today. It's nice to be able to throw on plain bike shorts, t-shirt and sneakers for once, along with my maligned helmet. A case of mistaken identity has be chasing a random cyclist for a short period on the bike trail and I get to mosey my way back to the levy via Expo and Commerce Blvds. Luckily, the hybrid handles packed dirt and gravel better than I do. It's HOT outside, and when I get home, I vow not to go outside until it's a civilized temperature.
July 16, 2009
Ride Report 7/16
26.28 miles in 2:05 (including a break to massage my screaming feet) on the Bianchi
The Canari biking shorts are too loose and the waistband is useless for clipping on the Rio Karma. Not trusting that any of my clean tank tops are long enough, I decide to be merciful on the general public and wear a long t-shirt. (On the plus side, the gel liner will prove to be the most comfortable one so far.) This is my first ride wearing the Forte shoes, and I immediately discover the huge disadvantage to road biking shoes: not only are they almost impossible to walk in, they are almost impossible to pedal with unless I am clipped in. The shoes are so slick that when I try to ride on the flat (non-clip) side of the pedal, they slide off. I have no choice but to clip in for the 4-mile stop light/sign-laden trip through downtown. Between fighting with the clips and worrying about the low rider shorts, I don't get to pay attention to my form until I hit the bike path off the Sacramento Marina.
I'm still skittish about taking turns/corners on the Bianchi, even though I replaced the tube and the tire is rock hard. T has threatened to put me on a bike roller to work on my balance, because I handle the Bianchi like a drunken monkey (my words, not his). So I practice making a U-turn without unclipping (successfully!). Something is rattling on the bike, but both bottle cages are tight. Turns out to be the mini pump loose in one of the zip ties.
My feet start to scream on the way north toward Old Sac & Discovery Park. A brief stop for foot relief, then the shoes go back on, but looser this time. I'm on the American River bike path now, so time for some good work. Third Eye Blind and then Billy Joel's "While the Night is Still Young" provide perfect pace music and I maintain an average of 16+mph for 8 miles. Heart rate is consistently 160bpm when I'm "in the zone" and pedal RPM is optimal.
On the Guy West bridge, I unclip to restore circulation to my toes, but my right foot will not unclip. At Discovery Park, I found that the right clip had lost a bolt, but had locked into a groove on the shoe and was still usable. Now I was stuck with my right foot on the pedal until I got home. Only a minor inconvenience to have to balance on my left side, but I start to wonder how I'm going to get off the Bianchi when I get home. Dismounting proves to be as awkward as I feared. I lean against the fence so I can unbuckle my shoe, but I still can't get it off the pedal. The Bianchi is still holding my right shoe hostage.
The Canari biking shorts are too loose and the waistband is useless for clipping on the Rio Karma. Not trusting that any of my clean tank tops are long enough, I decide to be merciful on the general public and wear a long t-shirt. (On the plus side, the gel liner will prove to be the most comfortable one so far.) This is my first ride wearing the Forte shoes, and I immediately discover the huge disadvantage to road biking shoes: not only are they almost impossible to walk in, they are almost impossible to pedal with unless I am clipped in. The shoes are so slick that when I try to ride on the flat (non-clip) side of the pedal, they slide off. I have no choice but to clip in for the 4-mile stop light/sign-laden trip through downtown. Between fighting with the clips and worrying about the low rider shorts, I don't get to pay attention to my form until I hit the bike path off the Sacramento Marina.
I'm still skittish about taking turns/corners on the Bianchi, even though I replaced the tube and the tire is rock hard. T has threatened to put me on a bike roller to work on my balance, because I handle the Bianchi like a drunken monkey (my words, not his). So I practice making a U-turn without unclipping (successfully!). Something is rattling on the bike, but both bottle cages are tight. Turns out to be the mini pump loose in one of the zip ties.
My feet start to scream on the way north toward Old Sac & Discovery Park. A brief stop for foot relief, then the shoes go back on, but looser this time. I'm on the American River bike path now, so time for some good work. Third Eye Blind and then Billy Joel's "While the Night is Still Young" provide perfect pace music and I maintain an average of 16+mph for 8 miles. Heart rate is consistently 160bpm when I'm "in the zone" and pedal RPM is optimal.
On the Guy West bridge, I unclip to restore circulation to my toes, but my right foot will not unclip. At Discovery Park, I found that the right clip had lost a bolt, but had locked into a groove on the shoe and was still usable. Now I was stuck with my right foot on the pedal until I got home. Only a minor inconvenience to have to balance on my left side, but I start to wonder how I'm going to get off the Bianchi when I get home. Dismounting proves to be as awkward as I feared. I lean against the fence so I can unbuckle my shoe, but I still can't get it off the pedal. The Bianchi is still holding my right shoe hostage.
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