Tuesday, September 21, 2010
"Dos" and "Don'ts" in the Berkeley Hills
Yeah, I know that this is a bad idea, but it seemed like an OK idea at the time.
I'll put that idea in the "done pile" not to worry about doing again since I got away with it once.
This sort of pass I've done hundreds of times, but I'm beginning to think that this sort of riding ought to stay safely locked in my past too.
50 M.P.H. "Safe & Sane" nearly traffic-free cruising will suffice just fine.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Downhilling? Yeah, we got that.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZIfBEAqo2aU
Yeah, I know, turn off all that wind noise.
Blurry and jumpy, kind of like what I see at speed on a rough road.
Yeah, I know, turn off all that wind noise.
Blurry and jumpy, kind of like what I see at speed on a rough road.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
The Days are Shortening
I got in two good 25s after work last week.
Skyline-Redwood-Pinehurst-Tunnel
I greatly enjoyed getting in my rides during the heat-up last week but as the days shorten this fall, I am running out of light for a ride that long after work. I'll shorten down to hour rides next week. I have a nice headlight, but I hate riding in the dark. I just cannot see enough.
Five and a half miles of climbing and gaining a view over Oakland, the San Francisco Bay and the coastal range from near the summit on Skyline.
But on the way back down coming home, it is getting just a wee bit dark.
But it is pretty.
That is Mt. Tamalpais at the coast.
Skyline-Redwood-Pinehurst-Tunnel
I greatly enjoyed getting in my rides during the heat-up last week but as the days shorten this fall, I am running out of light for a ride that long after work. I'll shorten down to hour rides next week. I have a nice headlight, but I hate riding in the dark. I just cannot see enough.
Five and a half miles of climbing and gaining a view over Oakland, the San Francisco Bay and the coastal range from near the summit on Skyline.
But on the way back down coming home, it is getting just a wee bit dark.
But it is pretty.
That is Mt. Tamalpais at the coast.
Monday, August 30, 2010
So, where have I been? To London to visit the Queen?
Well, no. Life has just been overfull for a while. After the LiveStrong ride, I took an unplanned hiatus from cycling as things that I had pushed to the back burner began to boil over.
Dale and I did manage to ride a Davis Phinney Foundation fundraiser at Folsom Lake. It was a very pretty 12 mile loop around the lake/river/whatever. It was some beautiful water. If the weather had been any warmer, we definitely would have jumped in. Last year I rode a 40 along the water and it was quite hot. I spent about an hour just soaking in the American River after. Lovely.
The route was all bike paths. It could get a little crowded sometimes, but no cars was great.
Overlooking the water from a high point, about 100 yds.
If you look closely, you can see a section of old rope hanging from the branch.
A fine idea for a rope-swing poorly executed.
A beautiful day riding around beautiful water.
Followed by a first-rate BBQ and raffle.
We are definitely returning next year.
We met up with Karl in Sacramento after for an iced coffee.
On a 20 mile ride with Dale a couple weeks later, we stopped for a breather and a view of Mt. Diablo.
The biggest life-changer lately has been the addition of Miss Macy to the family.
17 pounds of full-grown, 3-year-old Miniature Pinscher.
A little over caffeinated, we cut her back to 3 double espressos 3 times a day.
"Use your words Macy?"
Yeah, we got that.
But with a LOT of exercise, some hugging and feeding, she sleeps like a baby.
Macy loves her new bed and Mr. Blue Squeaky Toy.
She learned to love road-trips crossing half the country from Colorado Springs to Berkeley.
Mom came home to Berkeley after missing for some years in the wilds of Colorado and we get the dog! Mom's duplex is closely surrounded by those who have not yet learned to appreciate an earnest alert of any passing thing. Real or imagined.
In South Campus, we can use just such diligence.
So where did all this time to catch up on my blog come from?
I planned to ride a 25 this evening after work, but Miss Macy really had a tough day with two, count 'em, two moving vans, 6 movers, untold numbers of kids, dogs, birds, and I don't know what-all. I took her for a long walk after work, gave her a Milk Bone, loved her up, and changed into my cycling clothes. But every time I got near the door, she just sobbed and gave me that look like: "You really aren't going to leave me here after the day I just had are you? Dale was way too busy with final portfolios in 3 on-line classes, thesis format reviews, and preparing to teach 2 F-2-F classes this evening to give me anywhere near enough attention. No, I need some serious lap time here buddy."
It was a compelling argument, and she has been sleeping in my lap for an hour and a half.
One can do a lot worse with one's day than make a dog happy.
One even ends up quite happy oneself.
The roads will still be there tomorrow.
Dale and I did manage to ride a Davis Phinney Foundation fundraiser at Folsom Lake. It was a very pretty 12 mile loop around the lake/river/whatever. It was some beautiful water. If the weather had been any warmer, we definitely would have jumped in. Last year I rode a 40 along the water and it was quite hot. I spent about an hour just soaking in the American River after. Lovely.
The route was all bike paths. It could get a little crowded sometimes, but no cars was great.
Overlooking the water from a high point, about 100 yds.
If you look closely, you can see a section of old rope hanging from the branch.
A fine idea for a rope-swing poorly executed.
A beautiful day riding around beautiful water.
Followed by a first-rate BBQ and raffle.
We are definitely returning next year.
We met up with Karl in Sacramento after for an iced coffee.
On a 20 mile ride with Dale a couple weeks later, we stopped for a breather and a view of Mt. Diablo.
The biggest life-changer lately has been the addition of Miss Macy to the family.
17 pounds of full-grown, 3-year-old Miniature Pinscher.
A little over caffeinated, we cut her back to 3 double espressos 3 times a day.
"Use your words Macy?"
Yeah, we got that.
But with a LOT of exercise, some hugging and feeding, she sleeps like a baby.
Macy loves her new bed and Mr. Blue Squeaky Toy.
She learned to love road-trips crossing half the country from Colorado Springs to Berkeley.
Mom came home to Berkeley after missing for some years in the wilds of Colorado and we get the dog! Mom's duplex is closely surrounded by those who have not yet learned to appreciate an earnest alert of any passing thing. Real or imagined.
In South Campus, we can use just such diligence.
So where did all this time to catch up on my blog come from?
I planned to ride a 25 this evening after work, but Miss Macy really had a tough day with two, count 'em, two moving vans, 6 movers, untold numbers of kids, dogs, birds, and I don't know what-all. I took her for a long walk after work, gave her a Milk Bone, loved her up, and changed into my cycling clothes. But every time I got near the door, she just sobbed and gave me that look like: "You really aren't going to leave me here after the day I just had are you? Dale was way too busy with final portfolios in 3 on-line classes, thesis format reviews, and preparing to teach 2 F-2-F classes this evening to give me anywhere near enough attention. No, I need some serious lap time here buddy."
It was a compelling argument, and she has been sleeping in my lap for an hour and a half.
One can do a lot worse with one's day than make a dog happy.
One even ends up quite happy oneself.
The roads will still be there tomorrow.
Monday, July 19, 2010
The LIVESTRONG Challenge San Jose
Thank you again to everyone who supported my fundraising efforts on behalf of the Lance Armstrong Foundation, and thank you to everyone reading along on my blog. The LIVESTRONG Challenge San Jose event raised $1M to inspire and empower people affected by cancer.
As you know, my friend John created Team Glory Days for the event, and many of you generously contributed to him, Dona, Charlie, Amber, my nephew Terrence, Dale, and me raising $3,177.76 in the fight against cancer.
Originally, I set a goal to ride 100-miles, but questions of distance became moot in the face of the need for family support. Terrence and Dale planned to ride the 20-mile route together, but when a 20-year-old that Terrence had been mentoring suddenly died from heart failure, and Dale's father was diagnosed with prostate cancer, the ride became a lot more personal. Knowing how important it was to make sure Terrence and Dale had good rides, I decided to lend my experience and support to my family on the ride. After all, this is what the ride is all about.
All of us on Team Glory Days have already pledged to ride again next year and raise even more money for the Lance Armstrong Foundation. For now, my cycling will have to take a back burner for a bit, the flame on low, not off. Dale and I are still finessing the details, but it is starting to look like we are driving a pick-up truck to Colorado Springs, CO to bring my mother back home to Berkeley. She has lived there for a couple years all alone, and it is time for her to return. I'll hope to get in a few short evening rides once in a while, but not much serious riding for a bit. On the plus side, amongst many other things, Dale and I love to road trip and we’ll bring a Flip Cam and still camera along hopefully expanding the scope of this blog. Stay tuned!
Team picture courtesy of Team Captain John Boegman
As you know, my friend John created Team Glory Days for the event, and many of you generously contributed to him, Dona, Charlie, Amber, my nephew Terrence, Dale, and me raising $3,177.76 in the fight against cancer.
Originally, I set a goal to ride 100-miles, but questions of distance became moot in the face of the need for family support. Terrence and Dale planned to ride the 20-mile route together, but when a 20-year-old that Terrence had been mentoring suddenly died from heart failure, and Dale's father was diagnosed with prostate cancer, the ride became a lot more personal. Knowing how important it was to make sure Terrence and Dale had good rides, I decided to lend my experience and support to my family on the ride. After all, this is what the ride is all about.
All of us on Team Glory Days have already pledged to ride again next year and raise even more money for the Lance Armstrong Foundation. For now, my cycling will have to take a back burner for a bit, the flame on low, not off. Dale and I are still finessing the details, but it is starting to look like we are driving a pick-up truck to Colorado Springs, CO to bring my mother back home to Berkeley. She has lived there for a couple years all alone, and it is time for her to return. I'll hope to get in a few short evening rides once in a while, but not much serious riding for a bit. On the plus side, amongst many other things, Dale and I love to road trip and we’ll bring a Flip Cam and still camera along hopefully expanding the scope of this blog. Stay tuned!
Team picture courtesy of Team Captain John Boegman
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Good Thing I Don’t Trust Omens
So, Saturday was supposed to be half a day riding 50 miles in the South Bay early before it got too hot. John mapped a route covering some of Sunday’s LIVESTRONG ride that would climb Metcalf Road: 2.2 miles at 7% climbing something like 1,000 vertical feet. John and I wanted the miles and a chance to climb the heinous hill of Metcalf Rd. Many years ago I climbed this hill during a 25 mile portion of a triathlon. I was much younger and much more fit. It was horrible. Lots of very fit triathletes stopping, walking, throwing-up. I’m not looking forward to this today or next week.
I was on the first train to Fremont where John would pick me up to drive to San Jose. Gilligan and The Captain were on the BART train with me humming the theme song from Gilligan’s Island. I should have known then that this would be no “three hour tour.”
The ride started very well, meandering through back road rolling hills. On a quick descent of Willow Springs Rd. with successions of tight turns, John took a turn too fast. I had a front-row view of his braking hard and swinging out wide into the other lane where fortunately there was no oncoming car. I thought that he was going to recover when his rear tire could not take the sideways force from skidding and it rolled off the rim popping the tube. The next quick succession went something like: nice grippy tire on pavement, to slippy aluminum rim on pavement, to ouchy hip on pavement. By the time I got stopped, turned around, and back up to John, he was sitting in the gutter in a cloud of dust. He said to me: “Not a very auspicious start to the day!”
We walked down the road a bit to a turn-out to clean-up and assess. He had a pretty good patch of road-rash on his forearm and a big patch all along his thigh. Although neither was deep, they covered some good area. I’ve taken to carrying first-aid the last few years and was glad to have it, as was John. We cleaned him up taping a big bandage on his arm and letting his shorts hold several big bandages to his thigh. While tending to John, another rider stopped to help and straightened out John’s bike. My spoke wrench did not fit John’s spokes so I could not true his wheels, but they were rideable. The rider who stopped told us about a bike shop in near-by Morgan Hill and we headed there after thanking him again and going our separate ways.
Sunshine Bicycles did us right and trued up John’s wheels beautifully while they let John use the bathroom to wash some more and change the dressings. As we got back on route I suggested that we cut the ride short and just ease back to John’s dad’s house where we started. A big, tough boy, John was tougher than I knew and he scoffed at me! “This? This ain’t nuthin. We’re climbing Metcalf and getting our 50!”
Yeah, this is the guy on whose team you want to be. OK, we’re on. Then I flat.
Great. We pull over and I start to change out my rear tube. John says: “I told you back on Willow Springs flats usually come in threes!” As we start off again, I notice some pebbles sticking to my front tire and I reach down to brush them off while I ride and cut my thumb. They were more of the glass that popped my rear tire but did not flat the front.
So much for getting to Metcalf Rd. before the day got hot. The climb was brutal. I was melting and pouring water over myself as I climbed. Grinding up the grade, I watched a fuzzy white dandelion seed fluff drifting along side me at the exact same rate. The tailwind was matching my “speed” and I received no cooling air whatsoever. Periodically standing to get up the grade, I saw my front tire spread out on the griddle that was the road. The glass I had picked up earlier causing a slow leak so now I was climbing with more like 20 pounds of air pressure in my front tire rather than the 120 PSI with which I started the day. If I stopped mid-way up the hill, I’d just lie down on the road to become more road-kill jerky that I’d seen all day. No way.
At the summit I dribbled into the off-road dirt-bike park for water, recovery, and to change my front tube. John pointed out a group of cyclists who had a support van waiting with an ice chest full of cool drinks and lunch.
Note to self: need that next time.
The rest of the miles passed uneventfully and I returned home 12 hours after my alarm clock went off in the morning.
Some might take this ride as an ominous omen: a foreshadowing of the ride to come Sunday. We’ll be on many of the same roads including the worst up Metcalf. Good thing I don’t trust omens. LIVESTRONG Challenge San Jose 2010 here we come!
I was on the first train to Fremont where John would pick me up to drive to San Jose. Gilligan and The Captain were on the BART train with me humming the theme song from Gilligan’s Island. I should have known then that this would be no “three hour tour.”
The ride started very well, meandering through back road rolling hills. On a quick descent of Willow Springs Rd. with successions of tight turns, John took a turn too fast. I had a front-row view of his braking hard and swinging out wide into the other lane where fortunately there was no oncoming car. I thought that he was going to recover when his rear tire could not take the sideways force from skidding and it rolled off the rim popping the tube. The next quick succession went something like: nice grippy tire on pavement, to slippy aluminum rim on pavement, to ouchy hip on pavement. By the time I got stopped, turned around, and back up to John, he was sitting in the gutter in a cloud of dust. He said to me: “Not a very auspicious start to the day!”
We walked down the road a bit to a turn-out to clean-up and assess. He had a pretty good patch of road-rash on his forearm and a big patch all along his thigh. Although neither was deep, they covered some good area. I’ve taken to carrying first-aid the last few years and was glad to have it, as was John. We cleaned him up taping a big bandage on his arm and letting his shorts hold several big bandages to his thigh. While tending to John, another rider stopped to help and straightened out John’s bike. My spoke wrench did not fit John’s spokes so I could not true his wheels, but they were rideable. The rider who stopped told us about a bike shop in near-by Morgan Hill and we headed there after thanking him again and going our separate ways.
Sunshine Bicycles did us right and trued up John’s wheels beautifully while they let John use the bathroom to wash some more and change the dressings. As we got back on route I suggested that we cut the ride short and just ease back to John’s dad’s house where we started. A big, tough boy, John was tougher than I knew and he scoffed at me! “This? This ain’t nuthin. We’re climbing Metcalf and getting our 50!”
Yeah, this is the guy on whose team you want to be. OK, we’re on. Then I flat.
Great. We pull over and I start to change out my rear tube. John says: “I told you back on Willow Springs flats usually come in threes!” As we start off again, I notice some pebbles sticking to my front tire and I reach down to brush them off while I ride and cut my thumb. They were more of the glass that popped my rear tire but did not flat the front.
So much for getting to Metcalf Rd. before the day got hot. The climb was brutal. I was melting and pouring water over myself as I climbed. Grinding up the grade, I watched a fuzzy white dandelion seed fluff drifting along side me at the exact same rate. The tailwind was matching my “speed” and I received no cooling air whatsoever. Periodically standing to get up the grade, I saw my front tire spread out on the griddle that was the road. The glass I had picked up earlier causing a slow leak so now I was climbing with more like 20 pounds of air pressure in my front tire rather than the 120 PSI with which I started the day. If I stopped mid-way up the hill, I’d just lie down on the road to become more road-kill jerky that I’d seen all day. No way.
At the summit I dribbled into the off-road dirt-bike park for water, recovery, and to change my front tube. John pointed out a group of cyclists who had a support van waiting with an ice chest full of cool drinks and lunch.
Note to self: need that next time.
The rest of the miles passed uneventfully and I returned home 12 hours after my alarm clock went off in the morning.
Some might take this ride as an ominous omen: a foreshadowing of the ride to come Sunday. We’ll be on many of the same roads including the worst up Metcalf. Good thing I don’t trust omens. LIVESTRONG Challenge San Jose 2010 here we come!
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Crow Canyon Rd. the Steep Way
I was on my Crow Canyon 60 mile loop the other day, reliving the old days. Last year I was delighted to be able to return to riding that distance; my rehabilitation phase of life progresses well. However, last year I avoided Reliez Station Rd. and this time it was calling me.
Technically speaking, it is awfully steep.
Many years ago, struggling to clear the spots before my eyes on Hillgrade, a teammate grabbed me by the arm and dragged me over the top. As the spots cleared, there was one that would not go away. I kept blinking and breathing deeply, but one green spot would not clear from my vision. It was hot, I probably had 60 miles on me, and I started to worry a bit.
Then I realized that somebody had spray-painted the “O” on the street sign and I was not in trouble. Pretty funny. After a while.
This time there would be no teammate to help me over Reliez Station. Hillgrade is nothing in comparison. About half a mile long, mapmyride.com indicates sections at 20%. It is awfully steep. But my riding has gone quite well this year and Reliez Station was just calling me. I heeded the call, and while I do not remember it being THAT steep, it was quite doable.
It felt very good to take the steep way home and I’ll be doing that again.
60 Miles, 3,500 vertical feet of climbing, 4:20
http://beta.mapmyride.com/route/detail/18282110/
Technically speaking, it is awfully steep.
Many years ago, struggling to clear the spots before my eyes on Hillgrade, a teammate grabbed me by the arm and dragged me over the top. As the spots cleared, there was one that would not go away. I kept blinking and breathing deeply, but one green spot would not clear from my vision. It was hot, I probably had 60 miles on me, and I started to worry a bit.
Then I realized that somebody had spray-painted the “O” on the street sign and I was not in trouble. Pretty funny. After a while.
This time there would be no teammate to help me over Reliez Station. Hillgrade is nothing in comparison. About half a mile long, mapmyride.com indicates sections at 20%. It is awfully steep. But my riding has gone quite well this year and Reliez Station was just calling me. I heeded the call, and while I do not remember it being THAT steep, it was quite doable.
It felt very good to take the steep way home and I’ll be doing that again.
60 Miles, 3,500 vertical feet of climbing, 4:20
http://beta.mapmyride.com/route/detail/18282110/
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Return to Glorieta
It has been a long time since I climbed Acalanes Rd. to Glorieta. Probably at the summit where the road name changes is the city limit line between Lafayette and Orinda. While the climb is only half a mile, and a couple hundred feet, it hits 20% for a bit and is quite steep. Feels good.
I was planning a 40 last night, but I hung around eating frozen yogurt with Dale so I just cut 5 miles and a climb and suddenly, I’m back on schedule! I felt good right off. I planned and ate well setting up for the ride. I only took two large size water bottles and did not need to bring any food along. Climbing Tunnel Rd. was just swell. I dropped right down Pinehurst to Canyon and then out through Moraga to Lafayette. Descending Moraga Rd. to Lafayette is a very nice, fast road that allows pedaling through all the turns in top gear while draped out on my aero-bars in a position similar to a skier’s tuck. I got a bit of recovery rolling through Lafayette to Acalanes Rd. It was just calling me last night. Oh yeah. I shifted all the way down to my easiest gear and still needed to stand up, but it was good. Real good. There is something about climbing hard when you feel it. It is just satisfying.
Rolling over the summit, I began shifting up and speeding up, and OOPS, missed that stop sign. I’ll do better at the next one. A bit of notice wouldn’t have hurt. Maybe there was and I just missed it because I was still breathing hard and bleeding lactic acid out of my eyeballs. Feels good.
The last real climb of the day was Wildcat Canyon that also went very well. Starting out the climb in second gear, I upshifted as the gradient eased toward the top and then blasted through Tilden Park. Before descending into Berkeley, I stopped to put on a long-sleeve jersey and the perfect wind vest Karen found at Goodale’s Bike Shop in Nashua, NH when I was looking for the right one. A good shop when you are in the area.
Basking in the twilight and afterglow of my ride: Glorieta 35, I turned on my bike lights and shot down Spruce Street. Ah, the simple pleasures of life: going uphill, going downhill, and hammering the flats. Feels good.
35 miles, 2,400 vertical feet of climbing, 2:20 averaging 14.6 mph.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Calories and ice-cream headaches well earned
OH, we had a good ride Saturday! It was hot; damn hot. John B. drove up from San Jose to try the roads in my area: nothing but hills. OK, one need not ONLY ride hills here, but that’s what the day called for.
John was impressed with my meteorological and map study that brought headwinds on every climb of a loop ride. Shout-out to Our Lady of Perpetual Headwinds in NJ.
Twenty-five miles, 2,300 vertical feet of climbing. Damn hot. Right out of the gate, we climb about 6.5 miles; a little undulating, and then climb some more. John was riding a mountain bike with street tires, hauling a rack with a thermal lined lunch-box-sized bag on back and he kept and set the pace! When he gets his road bike, he’ll be dangerous. Once we pass the Chabot Observatory, we get what we worked for: a quick descent on Skyline, to a long, fast shot through Redwood Rd.
We turn onto Pinehurst and guess what? We start to climb again! But that is precisely what he came here to do and we are having a great time. Descending the south end of Pinehurst heading into Canyon is a winding, twisting succession of quick turns. John throws his mountain bike through them like he’s been riding this road for years. The long shallow, yet mounting climb through Canyon to the base of the Climb of the Day takes its toll and we stop to catch our breath at the first hair-pin turn. John opens the cooler bag and pulls out COLD iced tea enough to share! In the seriously 40 years of riding those hills, I have NEVER had cold iced tea on Pinehurst. We climb on as the road steepens all the way to the summit, undulate through to the last and quite painful climb, then it is all down hill to Peet’s Coffee and Tea on Domingo for large Mocha Freddos.
Calories and ice-cream headaches well earned.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
"Nobody Told Me There'd Be Days Like These"
The Other Day, around 4:20 A.M. Dale and I were frightenly awakened by the crash of branches, thud, and then death wailing from some stoned jerk trying to climb to the second floor deck of my neighbor's house.
"AAAH!! Oh my God! I broke both my ankles! I've shattered them!"
"I'm calling for help!" I yell out my bedroom screened window.
"No! Don't call! Oh my God I've never felt such pain! Can I have some water?"
I think to myself, he climbed high enough up the tree then fell far enough to hurt himself bad enough that he cannot run away, and he wants me to bring him a glass of water. No thanks. I'll let the professionals with guns handle this situation. They do, and eventually "Greg" is taken away on a gurney, leaving nothing but his socks and an empty cigarette pack.
I finally fall back to sleep and awaken again 15 minutes before I am supposed to be at work in a crisply ironed shirt and tie. I go for the sexy "bed head" open collar with 5 o'clock shadow look to mixed reviews. All are happy that I had already scheduled to leave for the day at noon.
Later that same day, Dale and I attend an Osher Lifelong Learning Institute lecture by her former mentor who directed her MA University Thesis. He spoke about what makes Samuel Johnson still so interesting and relevant after 300 years. Dale invited 3 of her former students to attend and then we took them all out for a late lunch at a sports bar in Clayton. The students had never been in the area and we formed a caravan leading them to lunch and then back to each respective freeway exit home. It was so much fun! The students all spoke about Dale's class and what a foundation shaking, exciting, class like none other they had ever had.
The quote of the day came from the young woman as they all were talking about how hard the class was and how much they enjoyed working that hard for Dale:
"Mrs. Ireland busted my balls in that class!"
"AAAH!! Oh my God! I broke both my ankles! I've shattered them!"
"I'm calling for help!" I yell out my bedroom screened window.
"No! Don't call! Oh my God I've never felt such pain! Can I have some water?"
I think to myself, he climbed high enough up the tree then fell far enough to hurt himself bad enough that he cannot run away, and he wants me to bring him a glass of water. No thanks. I'll let the professionals with guns handle this situation. They do, and eventually "Greg" is taken away on a gurney, leaving nothing but his socks and an empty cigarette pack.
I finally fall back to sleep and awaken again 15 minutes before I am supposed to be at work in a crisply ironed shirt and tie. I go for the sexy "bed head" open collar with 5 o'clock shadow look to mixed reviews. All are happy that I had already scheduled to leave for the day at noon.
Later that same day, Dale and I attend an Osher Lifelong Learning Institute lecture by her former mentor who directed her MA University Thesis. He spoke about what makes Samuel Johnson still so interesting and relevant after 300 years. Dale invited 3 of her former students to attend and then we took them all out for a late lunch at a sports bar in Clayton. The students had never been in the area and we formed a caravan leading them to lunch and then back to each respective freeway exit home. It was so much fun! The students all spoke about Dale's class and what a foundation shaking, exciting, class like none other they had ever had.
The quote of the day came from the young woman as they all were talking about how hard the class was and how much they enjoyed working that hard for Dale:
"Mrs. Ireland busted my balls in that class!"
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Motorpacing
Well, I continue to be delighted with my cycling progress. I had another terrific 28ish last night. Fortunately for me, Dale is more observant than me, and I have learned to listen to her and trust her. Heading out last night, I grabbed my wind vest thinking that would suffice. Dale strongly suggested bringing along a long-sleeve jersey as well. I though that her Be-All-To-End-All iF’ingPhone was off on the temperature and I did not need the jersey. I grabbed one and stuffed it into one of my pockets and thanked my lucky stars that I married so well when I was descending out of the hills at 8:00 PM with the evening fog rolling in!
Out in the valley of Redwood Road I picked up a great “motor pace” from a pickup truck with a camper shell. Hammering through the valley at about 35 MPH tucked into the slip-stream of the truck was great. A tennis-ball chasing pointer/terrier/Australian Sheppard/whatever dog was keeping a close watch with great interest out the back window of the camper shell. The driver kept a steady pace, unwavering through the turns. When ready to pull over at a park entrance to run the dog, the driver signaled well before braking at all and I pulled back right away, waiving a big “thank you” as I passed.
28 miles, 2,500 vertical feet, 2:05 ride time, 13.2 mph average
Out in the valley of Redwood Road I picked up a great “motor pace” from a pickup truck with a camper shell. Hammering through the valley at about 35 MPH tucked into the slip-stream of the truck was great. A tennis-ball chasing pointer/terrier/Australian Sheppard/whatever dog was keeping a close watch with great interest out the back window of the camper shell. The driver kept a steady pace, unwavering through the turns. When ready to pull over at a park entrance to run the dog, the driver signaled well before braking at all and I pulled back right away, waiving a big “thank you” as I passed.
28 miles, 2,500 vertical feet, 2:05 ride time, 13.2 mph average
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Life is Good on my Redwood Rd. 40
I returned to one of my favorite loops today, what I call the Redwood Rd. 40. After the fairly hard rides earlier this week and the quite warm temperatures today, I rode fairly conservatively. It was just great. The only real notables included a spider catching a lift on my handle-bars for a bit; that ended with an angry spider with road-rash flipping me off. The other noteworthy point occurred climbing the very last short little climb up to the Brazilian Room in Tilden Park. Previously at this point, I whined my way up in my lowest gear: 32 inches. Today, I approached more of a sprint in a 50 inch gear. At my peak, I could sprint the hill in a 72 but that was long ago and I do not expect to do that again. This felt very good today.
40 miles, 3,000 vertical feet of climbing, 3 hours, averaging 13.5 MPH.
40 miles, 3,000 vertical feet of climbing, 3 hours, averaging 13.5 MPH.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Wait! I’m OK. I am OKAY. All is not lost.
After Friday’s distressing ride, Monday’s 35 went fairly well and last night I was on fire! Maybe it was just getting the sludge out after not riding for a while; the first rude awakening. I was rolling, feeling strong last night. As soon as I started out on my warm-up I felt different: better.
Good thing!
I climbed Spruce a gear or two bigger, had to wait for a lane closure on Wildcat going through Tilden Park. That pavement has needed serious improvement for some time now. I rocketed down Wildcat to Orinda passing a car and a couple cyclists, but don’t tell Dale. She’s a bit uncomfortable hearing about my fast descending. I hammered the grade from Orinda over toward Moraga and then rolled out the descent snacking a gel and a banana.
Entering Canyon, all was well as I caught my breath and prepared for the climb of the day up Pinehurst when I heard that familiar Phit, Phit, Phit, Phit of air no longer interested in the confines of my rear tire. Not the gun-shot like “report” of some punctures; a civilized deflating. With a nice bit of driveway off the road leading to Canyon School, I pulled off the road to change my tube. It was dusk by now and started to cool off a bit so I put on my wind vest and put my bandana on as a pirate scarf trying to keep what warmth I had. It was pleasant safely off the road next to the West, WEST fork of the Raritan River as I started work on my tire.
And then they arrived. Now, I cannot say anything about the Raritan where it flows through New Jersey, but in Canyon it’s got way too many mosquitoes. I heard them before I saw them; buzzing and chattering with glee:
“I told you if we set that thorn in the road just right that we’d eat like kings!”
There I stand, all sweaty with a flat tire.
Next thing, I was slapping my legs, face and arms, and dancing around as I work on my tire. Great.
Thankfully, the tube change went well and I was on my way again leaving a swarm of bloated, burping mosquitoes in my wake.
My riding continued well climbing Pinehurst. Previously, I was hurting quite a bit on the steep part. This day I was in the next bigger gear rather than my lowest and climbed strong, sitting down the entire way not having to stand to make it up.
Streaking down Tunnel Road I turned on my lights to show up in the graying foggy evening, quite happy and satisfied with the ride.
30 miles, 2,300 vertical feet of climbing, 2:10 averaging 13.5 mph.
Feeling much better now; not all is lost.
Good thing!
I climbed Spruce a gear or two bigger, had to wait for a lane closure on Wildcat going through Tilden Park. That pavement has needed serious improvement for some time now. I rocketed down Wildcat to Orinda passing a car and a couple cyclists, but don’t tell Dale. She’s a bit uncomfortable hearing about my fast descending. I hammered the grade from Orinda over toward Moraga and then rolled out the descent snacking a gel and a banana.
Entering Canyon, all was well as I caught my breath and prepared for the climb of the day up Pinehurst when I heard that familiar Phit, Phit, Phit, Phit of air no longer interested in the confines of my rear tire. Not the gun-shot like “report” of some punctures; a civilized deflating. With a nice bit of driveway off the road leading to Canyon School, I pulled off the road to change my tube. It was dusk by now and started to cool off a bit so I put on my wind vest and put my bandana on as a pirate scarf trying to keep what warmth I had. It was pleasant safely off the road next to the West, WEST fork of the Raritan River as I started work on my tire.
And then they arrived. Now, I cannot say anything about the Raritan where it flows through New Jersey, but in Canyon it’s got way too many mosquitoes. I heard them before I saw them; buzzing and chattering with glee:
“I told you if we set that thorn in the road just right that we’d eat like kings!”
There I stand, all sweaty with a flat tire.
Next thing, I was slapping my legs, face and arms, and dancing around as I work on my tire. Great.
Thankfully, the tube change went well and I was on my way again leaving a swarm of bloated, burping mosquitoes in my wake.
My riding continued well climbing Pinehurst. Previously, I was hurting quite a bit on the steep part. This day I was in the next bigger gear rather than my lowest and climbed strong, sitting down the entire way not having to stand to make it up.
Streaking down Tunnel Road I turned on my lights to show up in the graying foggy evening, quite happy and satisfied with the ride.
30 miles, 2,300 vertical feet of climbing, 2:10 averaging 13.5 mph.
Feeling much better now; not all is lost.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Uh oh
The other day, I returned to cycling after a six-week hiatus. Between the rain, stressing over not reading enough for my MA exit exam, and my bike needing work, I've not ridden much at all in the last six weeks.
I postponed my exam until the fall, replaced the brakes (complete calipers) along with some other maintenance, and then jumped at a break in the rain. Between two systems bringing significant rain to the region, I slipped in a short ride after work. The bike felt great and I felt OK. I had no high expectations considering now long it has been since riding last, and I did not push myself beyond my ability. It was great. I really enjoyed the ride, the views from Grizzly Peak, and the impressive clouds.
OK, it was only 12 miles and I intend to ride a century July 11, but there may yet be time to prepare. What I need is consistent, thoughtful riding. What I do not need is trying to ride too much, too soon, trying to make up for lost miles all at once.
And then came the 30 the next day. Uh oh. I’m in trouble. I was so flat. I mean, have I never ridden a bike before? Have I no fitness? My LIVESTRONG countdown widget blares that I have 42 days left to meet my fundraising goal and prepare for the 100 mile ride. Not looking too good.
http://sanjose2010.livestrong.org/sean_ireland
The Missing Link Bicycle Shop has a couple nice pictures and route of this Classic Berkeley 30.
I postponed my exam until the fall, replaced the brakes (complete calipers) along with some other maintenance, and then jumped at a break in the rain. Between two systems bringing significant rain to the region, I slipped in a short ride after work. The bike felt great and I felt OK. I had no high expectations considering now long it has been since riding last, and I did not push myself beyond my ability. It was great. I really enjoyed the ride, the views from Grizzly Peak, and the impressive clouds.
OK, it was only 12 miles and I intend to ride a century July 11, but there may yet be time to prepare. What I need is consistent, thoughtful riding. What I do not need is trying to ride too much, too soon, trying to make up for lost miles all at once.
And then came the 30 the next day. Uh oh. I’m in trouble. I was so flat. I mean, have I never ridden a bike before? Have I no fitness? My LIVESTRONG countdown widget blares that I have 42 days left to meet my fundraising goal and prepare for the 100 mile ride. Not looking too good.
http://sanjose2010.livestrong.org/sean_ireland
The Missing Link Bicycle Shop has a couple nice pictures and route of this Classic Berkeley 30.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Redwood Rd. 40
The other day, I returned to ride the roads that I have loved for 40 years and left mapmystupidride.com for now. Five and a half miles of climbing for warm-up: routine. Amble along Skyline to drop down Redwood Rd. for a couple miles of big chainring hammering tucked up on the aero-bars. Nice couple miles climbing south Pinehurst with one of the better winding descents in the area. Out through Moraga to Lafayette, Orinda and the final couple miles up Wildcat Canyon Rd. Descend Spruce and roll through town home.
Now, THAT'S a good ride.
Now, THAT'S a good ride.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
mapmystupidride.com and I fail to communicate
The other day, I tried out another new route to ride. Fortunately, the commuting to campus with Dale and going out to lunch after her teaching is working out terrifically, because the routes I’ve mapped lately are not. Sure, there are always questions about seeking out new cycling routes; they may be harder or have more auto traffic than desired. There are a host of conditions that make routes enjoyable or not; routes one returns to again and again, or never. Early in my cycling, friends and I would sometimes just head out with a vague idea of where we were going just to try new routes. Sure, that often times resulted in long stretches of road with empty water bottles and nothing to eat except George’s baggie of very dry granola. One time, Bob and I begged a box of powered-sugar donuts from a father and son in a VW bus parked on the side of the road. But we knew that we were riding the unknown and accepted the risks along with the rewards. Back then, I had all the time that I wanted to wander around country roads getting lost, bonking without enough food and water.
Times change and the novelty of bonking wanes quickly. I now quite closely schedule the time that I can allot to cycling within a given window. And this is where mapmystupidride.com and I fail to communicate. My latest new route to tryout was 30 miles with 1,500 feet of climbing to fit nicely during Dale’s teaching. The route looked great online, but in reality, when I reached a planned turn to Eagle Run Road, I was quite dismayed to find that it was unpaved. Thirty feet of cycle crossing the other day was one thing; an unsure number of miles on a gravel road with high-pressure performance road tires is quite another. I stopped to text Dale that I was changing my planned route and found that not surprisingly, I had no cell phone signal. That only cemented my decision not to head out into the unknown gravel road.
Rather than a loop, I rode an out-and-back on Tesla Road, climbing to a convenient turn-around at 15 miles at the crest of a climb. I am confident that I also climbed at least the 1,500 feet planned. On the one hand, I was disappointed that a great looking route online was a bust. On the other hand, I had a terrific ride on a sunny afternoon, on quiet roads, enjoying the new scenery. That is what riding in general, and exploring new routes are all about. With an odometer that I did not have 20 years ago enabling me to determine when to turn around, and packing enough food and water for the unexpected, my early experiences and gained knowledge prepared me for the unexpected, allowing for a fun ride on new roads.
Times change and the novelty of bonking wanes quickly. I now quite closely schedule the time that I can allot to cycling within a given window. And this is where mapmystupidride.com and I fail to communicate. My latest new route to tryout was 30 miles with 1,500 feet of climbing to fit nicely during Dale’s teaching. The route looked great online, but in reality, when I reached a planned turn to Eagle Run Road, I was quite dismayed to find that it was unpaved. Thirty feet of cycle crossing the other day was one thing; an unsure number of miles on a gravel road with high-pressure performance road tires is quite another. I stopped to text Dale that I was changing my planned route and found that not surprisingly, I had no cell phone signal. That only cemented my decision not to head out into the unknown gravel road.
Rather than a loop, I rode an out-and-back on Tesla Road, climbing to a convenient turn-around at 15 miles at the crest of a climb. I am confident that I also climbed at least the 1,500 feet planned. On the one hand, I was disappointed that a great looking route online was a bust. On the other hand, I had a terrific ride on a sunny afternoon, on quiet roads, enjoying the new scenery. That is what riding in general, and exploring new routes are all about. With an odometer that I did not have 20 years ago enabling me to determine when to turn around, and packing enough food and water for the unexpected, my early experiences and gained knowledge prepared me for the unexpected, allowing for a fun ride on new roads.
Monday, March 22, 2010
mapmyride.com gate crash, cyclecross, bushwhack
The other day, I decided to try out a new cycling route. Starting and ending at Las Positas College in Livermore, CA, I used mapmyride.com routing a 30 with a bail out for a 20 if I wasn’t feeling it. Admittedly, I have challenges with this site, but the mileage and climbing prepared me for what to expect. I hand wrote a route sheet with the major turns and roads because the “notes feature” and I are not on speaking terms.
It was a beautiful day in the upper 60s and I headed out, forgetting my route sheet that I promised to copy and leave in the car for my wife in case of difficulties. I realized this after only a mile, and returned to the car. A few minutes later, I was on my way again. All went well until El Charro Rd. did not show up when I was expecting it as I rolled along Stanley Boulevard. This was not all that surprising to me as I have set off on just such a “three hour tour” before that ended in tears. This time however, it was the middle of the day rather than the late afternoon. That earlier ride left me stuck on the road completely bonked at 9:00 PM throwing up all my Gatorade and Goo gels with no cell phone signal. Yeah, the Little Lady was just a wee bit strung out with my two hour late no show, no call. Eventually, I got a ride from a very nice woman with a pick-up truck. Ergo, the route sheet that I left in the car this time. Exploring new routes has opened to quite mixed reviews.
I rolled along for a little while weighing options and opportunities. Pulling into a gas station mini mart, I bought a map, appreciated the directions offered not at all where I wanted to go from a clerk who could not understand why I was trying to ride the direction I described. It took me a few minutes to find myself on the map and make a plan to get back on route. I overshot the turn I needed because the road I wanted did not connect the way I imagined in my mind’s eye. Nearly back to my route, I encountered what would be a preview of more to come: the road I was riding was closed. I did not even have to dismount to ride through the barriers. Turning left onto Fallon Road, I returned to my route through a lovely McMansion housing community around a private golf course. The next road closure was more substantial, requiring pulling some chain-link fence open, some cycle-cross and some bush-whacking.
After that, the road was fine with fairly strong head-winds. The route saved the best for last: finally I had the winds at my back and freshly paved and very smooth road surface just sailing by. I was never really concerned for time as Dale was teaching until 4:30 in my mind, but 3:45 in reality. She did have a bit of a flash-back coming out to the car after teaching to no bike on the car rack and no call from me, but she was immediately relieved to see me hoisting my bike to the roof of the car.
“Three forty five? Not 4:30? Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
Thirty eight miles, two and a half hours, only about 500 feet of climbing, 14.8 mph average speed. Not at all bad for the little riding that I’ve logged so far this year.
I’ve mapped out another exploratory route aiming for 30 miles and 1,500 feet of climbing to try in a couple days. Again, I know what to expect: the unexpected.
It was a beautiful day in the upper 60s and I headed out, forgetting my route sheet that I promised to copy and leave in the car for my wife in case of difficulties. I realized this after only a mile, and returned to the car. A few minutes later, I was on my way again. All went well until El Charro Rd. did not show up when I was expecting it as I rolled along Stanley Boulevard. This was not all that surprising to me as I have set off on just such a “three hour tour” before that ended in tears. This time however, it was the middle of the day rather than the late afternoon. That earlier ride left me stuck on the road completely bonked at 9:00 PM throwing up all my Gatorade and Goo gels with no cell phone signal. Yeah, the Little Lady was just a wee bit strung out with my two hour late no show, no call. Eventually, I got a ride from a very nice woman with a pick-up truck. Ergo, the route sheet that I left in the car this time. Exploring new routes has opened to quite mixed reviews.
I rolled along for a little while weighing options and opportunities. Pulling into a gas station mini mart, I bought a map, appreciated the directions offered not at all where I wanted to go from a clerk who could not understand why I was trying to ride the direction I described. It took me a few minutes to find myself on the map and make a plan to get back on route. I overshot the turn I needed because the road I wanted did not connect the way I imagined in my mind’s eye. Nearly back to my route, I encountered what would be a preview of more to come: the road I was riding was closed. I did not even have to dismount to ride through the barriers. Turning left onto Fallon Road, I returned to my route through a lovely McMansion housing community around a private golf course. The next road closure was more substantial, requiring pulling some chain-link fence open, some cycle-cross and some bush-whacking.
After that, the road was fine with fairly strong head-winds. The route saved the best for last: finally I had the winds at my back and freshly paved and very smooth road surface just sailing by. I was never really concerned for time as Dale was teaching until 4:30 in my mind, but 3:45 in reality. She did have a bit of a flash-back coming out to the car after teaching to no bike on the car rack and no call from me, but she was immediately relieved to see me hoisting my bike to the roof of the car.
“Three forty five? Not 4:30? Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
Thirty eight miles, two and a half hours, only about 500 feet of climbing, 14.8 mph average speed. Not at all bad for the little riding that I’ve logged so far this year.
I’ve mapped out another exploratory route aiming for 30 miles and 1,500 feet of climbing to try in a couple days. Again, I know what to expect: the unexpected.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Saturday Ride. 2/6/10
The other day, I got in a ride; the first in a while as it has been raining and other things have been overriding riding.
It was terrible.
I was so flat, so weak, so tired. So what?
It was beautiful after the morning rains and fairly cool. There were lots of huge, puffy clouds idly boasting about raining more but not really committed. I could have used another layer descending and was a bit cold, taking no chances on the wet roads with debris from the recent heavy rains. I do not enjoy my lack of fitness, but I really enjoy not having to push myself out the door every morning for pre-dawn training as I did when I raced. I loved racing, road and especially triathlons, but for twenty years I ground myself, pushing my limits, doing all that I could. Back then, racing was everything to me. I knew that the miles would cost me later in life and that someday, my racing would end. Now that I have had more than a decade to see how no longer racing feels, I feel great. I better appreciate my racing experiences and accomplishments than previously and I have been able to rehabilitate an overuse injury to one knee. In the last couple years, my riding for fun has gotten much better in that I can again ride fairly well for several hours without pain. I don’t climb hard any more, but I downhill better than ever.
Last summer, I returned to a 60 mile loop that I have not done in 30 years. That was great. Some of the most enjoyable cycling ever. Psyched about riding more than ever, I planned for another great season once the weather clears. My friend John invited me to join his Team Glory Days to ride the 100 mile LIVESTRONG Challenge San Jose in July and I jumped at it. It has been 20 years and 20 pounds since I rode a century, but I am confident that I will be able to prepare well and complete the ride this summer.
Please have a look at my fundraising page:
http://sanjose2010.livestrong.org/sean_ireland
Besides ride updates, thoughts and musings, I will also post writings, travels, and hopefully interesting reading.
Thanks for reading.
I welcome your thoughts and comments.
Sean
It was terrible.
I was so flat, so weak, so tired. So what?
It was beautiful after the morning rains and fairly cool. There were lots of huge, puffy clouds idly boasting about raining more but not really committed. I could have used another layer descending and was a bit cold, taking no chances on the wet roads with debris from the recent heavy rains. I do not enjoy my lack of fitness, but I really enjoy not having to push myself out the door every morning for pre-dawn training as I did when I raced. I loved racing, road and especially triathlons, but for twenty years I ground myself, pushing my limits, doing all that I could. Back then, racing was everything to me. I knew that the miles would cost me later in life and that someday, my racing would end. Now that I have had more than a decade to see how no longer racing feels, I feel great. I better appreciate my racing experiences and accomplishments than previously and I have been able to rehabilitate an overuse injury to one knee. In the last couple years, my riding for fun has gotten much better in that I can again ride fairly well for several hours without pain. I don’t climb hard any more, but I downhill better than ever.
Last summer, I returned to a 60 mile loop that I have not done in 30 years. That was great. Some of the most enjoyable cycling ever. Psyched about riding more than ever, I planned for another great season once the weather clears. My friend John invited me to join his Team Glory Days to ride the 100 mile LIVESTRONG Challenge San Jose in July and I jumped at it. It has been 20 years and 20 pounds since I rode a century, but I am confident that I will be able to prepare well and complete the ride this summer.
Please have a look at my fundraising page:
http://sanjose2010.livestrong.org/sean_ireland
Besides ride updates, thoughts and musings, I will also post writings, travels, and hopefully interesting reading.
Thanks for reading.
I welcome your thoughts and comments.
Sean
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