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.
August 29, 2009
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.
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