Category: Bike

So, I’m sitting on the couch in the Q, eating strawberries and drinking beer. There’s a slightly bloody towel in the bathtub, and a bloody sock in my dirty clothes pile. I’m exhausted, and absolutely loving life.

Here’s the deal – A while back there was a Chris Carmichael (Of Lance Armstrong fame) article in Bicycling magazine. Carmichael suggested that breakthrough training could happen by an overload week. Or, at least that’s what I remember someone said sometime.

Plus, I’ve got not a whole lot going on outside of class, so I may as well beat the snot out of myself.

I’ve been swimming at lunch – but I talked about that yesterday.

Evenings – I rented a mountain bike from Sun’n’Spokes here in Sierra Vista. The first night, I rode up a canyon here on base – mostly jeep trail, but I did find some singletrack on the way down the canyon.

Tuesday and tonight, I went down to Brown Canyon. What a sweet ride. It starts with about two miles straight uphill, and then a GREAT downhill for about three miles. It’s similar to east coast trails – babies heads and roots, but different, cause there are FREAKIN’ MOUNTAINS!.

The climb is wicked tough. I cleared it the second time I tried, but barely. I was at 100% pretty much the entire way up.

The downhill – phenomenal. THere’s a sketchy section with lots of loose rock, but other than that, it’s good, do-able stunts, and a lot of good, smooth hardpack where I flew, baby. Flew.

Tuesday was awesome. Legs were fresh, and I knew the bike. The first lap was tricky, ’cause I’d never ridden it before (Go figure). The second lap – exactly why I ride.

This afternoon, I parked in a different spot to let me add a couple miles to the loop. As I was doing the climb up Ramsey Canyon road, I could feel that I didn’t have the ‘pop’ that I had on Tuesday. I didn’t walk as much as i did the first lap Tuesday, but I did walk some of the toughest stuff.

The downhill was good, but it was later in the day, so it was getting dark in the valley. Plus, I was tired. Anyway, on probably the toughest bit of the trail, I hesitated, locked up the front wheel, and did the proverbial endo (as in ‘end over end’) onto some rocks and tore up my knee. Helmet tested sat. Blood everywhere. I felt cool.

No permanent damage, and chicks dig scars, so I finished the ride down the canyon with no further problems. Exhausted, happy, and starving, I headed back to the Q for the aforementioned strawberries and beer.

Oh, and I found some pistachios, too.

Can’t wait to do it again tomorrow.

I did a little modified brick today. After the lunchtime run, I called home to see what was on the table for supper. Missy mentioned that Jake had a coupon for pizza from school, and as I had the bike on the back of the car, I said “Hey, why don’t you and the boys get pizza, and I’ll eat leftovers after I ride?” That’s me, always thinking about the wife all the time.

The ride was incredible. Started from the soccer field on Jamestown, looped up to the North End of the island, down south to downtown, and back to the car.

There was a casualty, though. After 6 years and a couple thousand miles, the faceplate on my left shifter bit the dust. It’d been rattling for a while, and finally let go heading down a hill. I backtracked after I finished the ride, but there was nothing there.

I was going to get the trifecta and hit the pool tonight, but the pool was closed. Let’s see if I can get up in the morning…

Oh, and I bought my USAT license for this year. Rock on.

So, I headed into Manhattan last weekend with a few guys from church to do the Bike New York 5 Borough Bike Ride. Good times were had by all.

We got into the city on Saturday afternoon. We stayed at the New York Youth Hostel, upper west side. Walked around for a long while after we got there, and managed to put back both a plate of pasta at the hostel’s carbo-loading supper, as well as half a small wood-oven pizza (with whole wheat crust!) at a great restaurant down the street Saturday night. We also walked up to the Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine Absolutely amazing, but an odd vibe. Even though it’s an active church, it felt like I was walking through the Cloisters more than the church. Then, there was this bizarre statue outside. It had something to do with peace, but I just kind of liked that everyone was standing on a scary looking crab. And the avenging angel’s pretty darn sweet – ought to be a comic about him.

Continue reading 5 Borough Bike Ride

Yesterday afternoon, I stopped by Burlingame State Park on the way home to get in a little bit of singletrack. Perfect day for it – sunny, 40’s, and the ground was pretty dry.

As I was leaving the beach parking lot, two other bikers passed me. I fiddled around with my bike a bit more, and left, noticing the cleat on my left shoe was way, way out of position and more than a little loose. “Eh,” I thought, “fix it when we get back.”

From the beach, there’s no singletrack for about a mile – just a two lane road. Just before we got to the trail, I caught and passed the two riders. One was on a high-zoot Merlin titanium hardtail, the other on a nice full suspension rig. Nods and waves were passed.

I turned onto the trail just after passing them, got to the first real obstacle, a log across the trail, and

Biffed

Then, trying to get back up, my left cleat wouldn’t disengage, so I kind of wallowed around a bit.

The guy on the full rig stopped after he cleared the log to make sure I was all right.

“I’m Larry” he said. “Have you ridden here before?”

“No”, I mumbled. “But I’ve got a map from the Internet.”

“Well, you’re welcome to ride with us.”

So I did. Or tried to – “with” is a relative word, right? The trail was brutal. If I made 100 yards without falling or having to dismount (again, with a sticky left cleat) I was pleased.

After about 40 minutes, Larry came riding back down the trail just to make sure I was still alive. I acknowledged, and apologized for the string of vulgarities and epithets that were spoiling a quiet afternoon in the woods. “No problem” he said. “Just up ahead here, it gets a whole lot easier and we’ll point you back to your car.”

“Thanks” I said.

At a junction, we stopped for a minute. Larry lent me an allen wrench to take off my left cleat, which had lost a bolt by this time. “Hey, you’re bleeding. Extra points for that,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, chicks dig scars” I said.

The ride back down a different trail, was, as Larry had promised, much easier. But, having spent the better part of an hour lying beside the trail with my bike on top of me, my confidence was shot. When I tried, I cleared, but I didn’t try as often as I usually would.

Back at the car, I took inventory
– Bent seat
– Skinned both knees
– Deep muscle bruise on left thigh
– Skinned elbow on the left side
– Bruised ego

But, the ride was good, the endorphins were pumping, and I’m still happy to be alive.

Huge thanks to Larry and his riding partner – I was woefully unprepared, and in over my head, and a complete stranger, but they showed phenomenal hospitality to a total Fred. I need to be a better person.

This is an absolutely beautiful bit by Fat Cyclist

I wanted to call someone and tell them to come get me, but I kept thinking of people watching the 5 o’clock news and hearing about the ill prepared idiot mountain biker who rode all day by himself, and had to be hauled out by the search and rescue.

I was not going to be that guy.

Well, actually I was that guy, but I got myself into this situation and I was going to do everything I could to get myself out.

I’ve been on his end of many an expedition – it’s a marvelous thing to bite off more than you can chew, ‘specially if you live to talk about it.

Blogged with Flock

Ah, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages!

I sing the song of spring, of the earth awakening from its slumber.
I sing of soft ground, not wet, but loosened from the icy grip of winter.
I sing the song of the long, fresh light after the equinox.
And I sing the chorus of man and machine, working in unison.

Ah, but what would a story be without a twist?

For, like the serpent tempted Eve in the Garden, there are green snakes with Fangs in the Garden of springtime. I speak, of course of the dreaded thorns, the snaky green menace that runs rampant in the new-growth forest that blankets New England.

So, much like my last ride, I’m going to be fixing a tire tonight.

However, this story is not complete. Hubris will make an appearance, just like any good Greek playwright knows it must.

Unlike last time, where I picked up the thorn late in the ride, and didn’t know I’d bought a tire change until I got home, this time I picked up the thorn early in the ride, while lost… I mean, exploring a new route. Once I found myself and got back on track, I noticed the tire going flat while I was making a wicked fast descent and wondering why the back tire was sliding around. Looked down between trees, and noticed it was flattening.

D’oh. And, what – Me without a tube and pump? Say it isn’t so…

Turned around, and rode gingerly back to the parking lot. By the time I got back, the rear tire was almost completely flat. The tube, I’m sure, is riddled with snakebites now, in addition to the thorn.

Ah, years of road riding, you’ve made me soft.

The ride, my friends, was brilliant though. Couldn’t buy a nicer day even if I could fly myself wherever. Trails were in great shape, legs and lungs felt good, and I cleaned a climb that I’d never made before. The new bike still feels a little bit short, but I’m thinking more and more that I wasn’t fit properly before – I’ve got control and power now that I didn’t think was possible.

So, call me an idiot, poke fun at the boy with the flat tire. I’m digging out my short pump and a tube, and adding them to the kit in the trunk. Who wants to take bets on how long it is until my first “real” mechanical, and the multi-tool gets added?