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.
Showing posts with label Lake Natoma. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lake Natoma. Show all posts
September 14, 2009
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.
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