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.
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