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.