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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.