Since this post is technically about the ride, I will spend but a minute on the other spectacle that was the pre-ride. This included getting to France, getting checked in, figuring out where everything was and generally avoiding trouble.
Trouble came in spades for many people during the 2 days before this ride. Since everything worked out okay for those in question, I personally found the trouble to humorous as only real trouble can possibly be.
First, trouble came to my one night roommate, Greg, whom Lufthansa charged $375 for putting a bike on a plane between Berlin and Paris. Road Pixie has added this airline to the no-fly list along with Aeroflot (which I rode 20 years ago and emerged from feeling as though I had dive bombed Kabul). To make matters worse, the bike emerged from the box with the cranks locked. After much yanking, we eventually got them to the grating stage which was enough to ride the bike to the starting control mechanic. In a stroke of luck, I waited in the mechanic line, while Greg waited in the paperwork line. Thus, it was my smiling, innocent female face that handed the bike over to the French mechanic who sternly lectured me for bringing such a severe problem to France, but said he would fix it "because there are so few women and you are very jolie (cute) and it would be a shame that you could not ride". I followed up with "vous avez sauve ma vie, monsieur, je donnerai votre nom a mon premier fils" (you have saved my ride and I will name my first born son after you). This elicited a big smile and no charge. While not a perfect repair, the cranks at least made it through the ride. Martin, who was with us, was on his own for his bad shifting, he got the "how could you show up with worn out cables for this ride" lecture.
Next spot of trouble was waiting at the hotel. SpinBob's wallet had been stolen right out of his hotel room. Really, he has horrible luck, his wallet got stolen on his last trip to France as well. What better way to spend an afternoon than translating at the police station? Happily, there was no monetary loss, just hassle. And the police detectives at the police station where HOT (capitals included on purpose here). They all had guns and managed to make them conform to their hips to make them look even better. Really, the actresses on american television don't look half as good. The only one not packing heat was the superintendent (the only guy), I missed the picture of the trip by not taking his picture with his compatriots (think French Charlie's Angels here).
All my fussing and bother really paid off here. I read in the RUSA book that you should go over your bike with a fine tooth comb and changed the cassette, big chain ring, tires, tubes, cables, and chain 1-2 weeks before the ride and pre-tested everything. My only issue wound up being a bad battery in my cyclocompter and that was an easy on site fix. I didn't even have a flat tire on this ride. Hats off to Carly and Andy at Eriks in St Louis Park - they went the extra mile to put my bike in perfect working order.
I also had the pleasure of running into Ken from Louisville and doing the warm up ride with him. The big pre-ride is known for lots of wrecks but we managed to get lost enough to wind up avoiding the crowds for a lovely pre-ride "did I put this bike together right" jaunt. We also had a nice walk in Paris too along with SpinBob. Must go back to Louisville and ride again!
Other than that, I bought some very nice, cheap French leg warmers for the ride which later made an excellent splint for my hamstring. It's the highest point of fashion to get multiple uses out of a single object. My French friends in grad school turned garbage bags into mock leather to dress as hookers for Halloween and looked awesome doing it. While not as chic, my leg warmers served me well.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Paris-Brest-Paris
I debated for a long time what to name this post. I finally decided that the name just says it all. PBP is pretty much the Olympics of Randonneuring. I'd venture to say that it may be on every randonneur's bucket list and there may be 1200ks with more hills, less hills, longer distances, weirder weather or poisonous animals, but having done it, I can say that none will have the same magic that this ride does: nowhere else will there be 5,000 randonneurs on the road at the same time with a legion of locals cheering you on. On PBP, there is no cue sheet because none is required; I can't think of another 1200k that could make that boast.
My opinion of PBP will always be colored by the fact that I knew about it long before most people I rode with did. I first heard about PBP at the tender age of 8 years old, long before RUSA had even been founded. How did that happen? Well, at age 8, I started a lifelong study of French (the pinacle of which is an actual degree in French Literature). In the late 70s and early 80s, language teaching was changing with more emphasis being put on grammar in the context of culture. And believe me, cycling is big in French culture. PBP is the oldest ride in France (12 years before the Tour) and is open to women (which the tour is not). That made the PBP notation stick in my little cyclist head (yes, I was also doing long distance cycling at 8 too). This ride, I vowed to do when I grew up.
Sure, it took 34 more years to get there, but Road Pixie is very patient and persistent. Sometimes all things have a place and time. This turned out to be the year to do it. However, I had two major concerns that I thought could derail this ride: first, my hamstring or other body part could give out on me, as was the case in the Cascades, and second, I could have issues with sleep. I spent a year rebuilding my hamstring and to really get a grip on the sleep thing, I did not one, but 3 600ks before this ride two of which were on back-to-back weekends. As a result, I knew going in that for every 24 hours of riding, I needed 3 hours of sleep to continue effectively. Any less was going to cause problems. In each of my 600ks, I tried a different amount, more works, less made it far harder to continue on and with 4 days, continuing was a requirement. I think Coach Gary says it best: 3 hours is just about perfect - 90 minutes for your body and 90 minutes for your mind.
SpinBob and I agreed to ride together as well; though this eventually did not turn out at all as I had planned. I now can say with certainty that if one is planning on doing PBP, don't plan on sticking with someone no matter how well you know them. There are so many things on this ride to experience that neither will be satisfied without the implicit understanding that separating at any time is absolutely okay. Having done another 1200k elsewhere, I would say something different for those, with fewer people it's different. But for PBP, the different food, roads and carnival-like atmosphere are an experience that is deeply personal to each person. I had not considered before that being able to speak French opened a part of this ride that was extrordinary and it was something that simply could not be shared, even with a friend. An understanding of French culture also turned this into a completely different ride for me than I think others might have had. Sometimes it was very small things that looking back, I should have spoken up about. Like the fact that a Tabac is NOT a tobacco store - it's a conveniance store full of food and supplies. I remember hearing "well we won't be stopping at a tobacco store" at least once.
The other thing that really made this ride something was the number of people that I knew when I arrived. I had no idea that so many people read this blog! My many rides out of state in places like Seattle, Arizona, Kentucky, and Wisconsin also had introduced me to so many American riders that I felt like I had just shown up to a meeting of old friends. That really made this ride something special that I hadn't counted on. This was really the first time I felt like I was part of the entire randonneuring community; after PBP I have a far greater appreciation of the randonneuring community as a whole in the US. Something that I know will made future 1200ks much easier.
My friend, Paul, whom I had the honor of riding with for his 7th PBP, said it best: I keep coming back to this ride because it is like a moving party. It really is just that, 90 hours to be savored and enjoyed like you would one of the finest French wines. He also told me to savor the feeling of finishing both my first 1200k and my first PBP, there would never be another moment like it in my life. There was never a low point in this ride for me at all so I think it will always retain a special place in my long list of experiences; the kind of sense you get when all your planning goes perfectly well and every difficulty you have is one you have planned for and can overcome.
The next 2 posts will be about the ride itself. The 2 halves were so starkly different that it almost seems like they were not the same ride. I wouldn't trade a minute of either one, though in hindsight, I liked thet last half a little better than the first. But they both had their charms.
My opinion of PBP will always be colored by the fact that I knew about it long before most people I rode with did. I first heard about PBP at the tender age of 8 years old, long before RUSA had even been founded. How did that happen? Well, at age 8, I started a lifelong study of French (the pinacle of which is an actual degree in French Literature). In the late 70s and early 80s, language teaching was changing with more emphasis being put on grammar in the context of culture. And believe me, cycling is big in French culture. PBP is the oldest ride in France (12 years before the Tour) and is open to women (which the tour is not). That made the PBP notation stick in my little cyclist head (yes, I was also doing long distance cycling at 8 too). This ride, I vowed to do when I grew up.
Sure, it took 34 more years to get there, but Road Pixie is very patient and persistent. Sometimes all things have a place and time. This turned out to be the year to do it. However, I had two major concerns that I thought could derail this ride: first, my hamstring or other body part could give out on me, as was the case in the Cascades, and second, I could have issues with sleep. I spent a year rebuilding my hamstring and to really get a grip on the sleep thing, I did not one, but 3 600ks before this ride two of which were on back-to-back weekends. As a result, I knew going in that for every 24 hours of riding, I needed 3 hours of sleep to continue effectively. Any less was going to cause problems. In each of my 600ks, I tried a different amount, more works, less made it far harder to continue on and with 4 days, continuing was a requirement. I think Coach Gary says it best: 3 hours is just about perfect - 90 minutes for your body and 90 minutes for your mind.
SpinBob and I agreed to ride together as well; though this eventually did not turn out at all as I had planned. I now can say with certainty that if one is planning on doing PBP, don't plan on sticking with someone no matter how well you know them. There are so many things on this ride to experience that neither will be satisfied without the implicit understanding that separating at any time is absolutely okay. Having done another 1200k elsewhere, I would say something different for those, with fewer people it's different. But for PBP, the different food, roads and carnival-like atmosphere are an experience that is deeply personal to each person. I had not considered before that being able to speak French opened a part of this ride that was extrordinary and it was something that simply could not be shared, even with a friend. An understanding of French culture also turned this into a completely different ride for me than I think others might have had. Sometimes it was very small things that looking back, I should have spoken up about. Like the fact that a Tabac is NOT a tobacco store - it's a conveniance store full of food and supplies. I remember hearing "well we won't be stopping at a tobacco store" at least once.
The other thing that really made this ride something was the number of people that I knew when I arrived. I had no idea that so many people read this blog! My many rides out of state in places like Seattle, Arizona, Kentucky, and Wisconsin also had introduced me to so many American riders that I felt like I had just shown up to a meeting of old friends. That really made this ride something special that I hadn't counted on. This was really the first time I felt like I was part of the entire randonneuring community; after PBP I have a far greater appreciation of the randonneuring community as a whole in the US. Something that I know will made future 1200ks much easier.
My friend, Paul, whom I had the honor of riding with for his 7th PBP, said it best: I keep coming back to this ride because it is like a moving party. It really is just that, 90 hours to be savored and enjoyed like you would one of the finest French wines. He also told me to savor the feeling of finishing both my first 1200k and my first PBP, there would never be another moment like it in my life. There was never a low point in this ride for me at all so I think it will always retain a special place in my long list of experiences; the kind of sense you get when all your planning goes perfectly well and every difficulty you have is one you have planned for and can overcome.
The next 2 posts will be about the ride itself. The 2 halves were so starkly different that it almost seems like they were not the same ride. I wouldn't trade a minute of either one, though in hindsight, I liked thet last half a little better than the first. But they both had their charms.
Monday, August 8, 2011
AV400k: The ladies stage a takeover
After years of riding with men, I was really happy to finally see some serious female action on a ride over 200k. And no less than the AV400k, most fearsome route in the Minnesota portfolio of brevets.
This ride was my last before Paris-Brest-Paris and at only 2 weeks out, some might call it too close. I am defending my decision to go because it was so much fun it would have been criminal to miss it. Sure, the speedy boys all took off in the first 10 miles never to be seen again, but with 5 in the cyclo-tourist group (which is a lot by our standards), it was just fine. I was already expecting Renee, whom I rode with last fall, who is preparing for her first 600k in September. At the start was a surprise visitor from Colorado Springs, Ronaele, whose husband was providing support at the controls. 3 randonneuses on one ride: a new record in my book.
This day was a pretty good day for riding but wound up being much hotter than expected and a bit of a headwind, but aren't we all used to this by now).
I had agreed to ride with Renee as her beau, Ed, wasn't going to make it. That put Renee, myself and SpinBob all together for a nice ride. Bob and I were really committed to not killing ourselves on this ride so close to PBP, but it was a bit of a shakedown ride too. Final equipment and other things needed to be checked. This made the ride even more useful than I had imagined.
The start was similar to all our Apple Valley starts with a quick 31 miles to Cannon Falls. This always passes pretty uneventfully, but we went a bit of a different way that the 600k does. The three of us were to play hopscotch with Ronaele all day until we teamed up for the night.
Renee, Bob and I had a blast with lots of joking and nice riding for the morning. Renee loves a good descent and it was really fun to watch her whoosh down hills as we went along. the AV400k is the hilliest 400k and has almost as much climbing as the 600k so she got to do lots of descending. At Plainview, we stopped for a sandwich and noted how hot it was getting. Instead of sitting outside, we stood at the counter inside. I had to apply extra sunscreen too. We ran into another rider, Phil, who was just pulling out. We halso had a nice chat again with Ronaele's husband, who we saw at every control. He and Ronaele are in retirement doing permanents and brevets; I had lots of respect for her by the end of this ride.
The next section is about the hilliest part through Whitewater State Park with big climbs in the park and finally out of Rollingstone. SpinBob started realy suffering from the heat (he likes to say that it is his kryptonite) and we backed off on our speed to compensate. Still, we rollled into Stockton at about 4:00 pm just about 10 hours for the halfway point. There we ran into Phil, looking a bit worse for the wear. The 5 of us would basically stick together for the rest of the ride.
Climbing out of Stockton is a long, slow process and Bob suffered further, but we waited at the top for him and continued along. By this time, the heat of the day was passing and he was destined to bounce back as temperatures dropped. We stopped again in Plainview for another sandwich and preparations for the night ride. By this time, it was closing on 7:00 pm.
Unfortunately, we missed the beautiful view of the Zumbro River, but the next miles passed nicely with good conditions. Phil had some stomach distress near Mazeppa, but recovered immediately. We got to Zumbrota and quickly refueled; I had a 10 minute nap too on the concrete; I'm really good at sleeping on concrete these days.
The next leg to Canon Falls went really fast and we picked up time. Unforunately, I was dozing after that and one of the flashing lights on the back of the bikes started sending me into a hypnotised state. We fixed it, but not in time for us to recover bearings and prevent a wrong turn at 86 instead of 81. Oops, we added 13 miles to the ride.
We ended at dawn, just as the sun came up. Not the fastest 400k ever, but one I won't soon forget. From this I discovered that my big chainring needed to be changed (I had started to notice a curious tendency to drop the chain during the various climbs).
Strangely, all the riders basically were in either our group or the one in front of us which finished an hour or two faster (but didn't go as far).
On to PBP.....
This ride was my last before Paris-Brest-Paris and at only 2 weeks out, some might call it too close. I am defending my decision to go because it was so much fun it would have been criminal to miss it. Sure, the speedy boys all took off in the first 10 miles never to be seen again, but with 5 in the cyclo-tourist group (which is a lot by our standards), it was just fine. I was already expecting Renee, whom I rode with last fall, who is preparing for her first 600k in September. At the start was a surprise visitor from Colorado Springs, Ronaele, whose husband was providing support at the controls. 3 randonneuses on one ride: a new record in my book.
This day was a pretty good day for riding but wound up being much hotter than expected and a bit of a headwind, but aren't we all used to this by now).
I had agreed to ride with Renee as her beau, Ed, wasn't going to make it. That put Renee, myself and SpinBob all together for a nice ride. Bob and I were really committed to not killing ourselves on this ride so close to PBP, but it was a bit of a shakedown ride too. Final equipment and other things needed to be checked. This made the ride even more useful than I had imagined.
The start was similar to all our Apple Valley starts with a quick 31 miles to Cannon Falls. This always passes pretty uneventfully, but we went a bit of a different way that the 600k does. The three of us were to play hopscotch with Ronaele all day until we teamed up for the night.
Renee, Bob and I had a blast with lots of joking and nice riding for the morning. Renee loves a good descent and it was really fun to watch her whoosh down hills as we went along. the AV400k is the hilliest 400k and has almost as much climbing as the 600k so she got to do lots of descending. At Plainview, we stopped for a sandwich and noted how hot it was getting. Instead of sitting outside, we stood at the counter inside. I had to apply extra sunscreen too. We ran into another rider, Phil, who was just pulling out. We halso had a nice chat again with Ronaele's husband, who we saw at every control. He and Ronaele are in retirement doing permanents and brevets; I had lots of respect for her by the end of this ride.
The next section is about the hilliest part through Whitewater State Park with big climbs in the park and finally out of Rollingstone. SpinBob started realy suffering from the heat (he likes to say that it is his kryptonite) and we backed off on our speed to compensate. Still, we rollled into Stockton at about 4:00 pm just about 10 hours for the halfway point. There we ran into Phil, looking a bit worse for the wear. The 5 of us would basically stick together for the rest of the ride.
Climbing out of Stockton is a long, slow process and Bob suffered further, but we waited at the top for him and continued along. By this time, the heat of the day was passing and he was destined to bounce back as temperatures dropped. We stopped again in Plainview for another sandwich and preparations for the night ride. By this time, it was closing on 7:00 pm.
Unfortunately, we missed the beautiful view of the Zumbro River, but the next miles passed nicely with good conditions. Phil had some stomach distress near Mazeppa, but recovered immediately. We got to Zumbrota and quickly refueled; I had a 10 minute nap too on the concrete; I'm really good at sleeping on concrete these days.
The next leg to Canon Falls went really fast and we picked up time. Unforunately, I was dozing after that and one of the flashing lights on the back of the bikes started sending me into a hypnotised state. We fixed it, but not in time for us to recover bearings and prevent a wrong turn at 86 instead of 81. Oops, we added 13 miles to the ride.
We ended at dawn, just as the sun came up. Not the fastest 400k ever, but one I won't soon forget. From this I discovered that my big chainring needed to be changed (I had started to notice a curious tendency to drop the chain during the various climbs).
Strangely, all the riders basically were in either our group or the one in front of us which finished an hour or two faster (but didn't go as far).
On to PBP.....
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Cuckoo for Coulee Puffs
Okay, someone may or may not get my subtle breakfast cereal reference, but the point is that I had to get up pretty early in the morning for this ride.
I'm a big fan of permanents and this is a new permanent owned by one of the other randonneurs in Wisconsin. This was, in fact, the inaugural ride of this perm and even its stalwart owner hadn't actually done it on a bike yet.
The ride itself starts in Black River Falls, WI. That's about a 3 hour drive from my house. RBA Rob was also interested in riding so we made arrangements to carpool. The ride is 218K in some really hilly country and we had around 6 hours of driving time. That makes for an early rise.
But first, the concept of the coulee. I've noticed that this appears to be an upper midwest term from the French. Here is the dictionary definition:
The temperatures forecasted for the day in question included a heat index in the 100+ degree range, so the flow of molten lava was metaphoric. The coulees in Wisconsin are part of the driftless area which was never covered by glaciers. Coulee riding is sort of like riding your way around a plate of big green cupcakes. There are some very long, steep hills. This ride, by our estimation, had about 9-10,000 feet of climbing.
We got to Dan's house in Black River Falls at a little before 9:00 am for a 9:20 start. In true fashion, I managed to forget socks and reflective gear and had to borrow. We were not entirely sure we could finish this ride in daylight so lights were aplenty.
The first few miles are rolling with many farms and a small Amish community. It was already getting hot and the wind was in our faces so we kind of had to work for the miles. RBA Rob usually rides much faster than I do, but this was a fun, social ride.
We rolled into Blair (22 miles) with about an hour on the clock and had something to drink. Just the 10 minute stop was enough to drive my bike thermometer up to 104 - balmy. We were in some fairly significant rollers and climbs, but Dan kept assuring us that the big hills were still to come. There has been quite a bit of rain of late and flooding had been a real possibility. The Black River, which we crossed and flirted with all day, was swollen in its banks. We made a stop about 10 miles from the West Salem Control at a small gas station. The heat was on and I discovered that mixing mint ice cream bars and V8 can in fact taste good provided that it is hot enough. I also brought along Zym electrolyte tablets for my bottles. Pulling them out, I offered one to Rob. He popped it right in his mouth, chewed and swallowed. That turned out to be not a good idea since the tablet fizzed for about 20 minutes with the predicted consequences. Rob didn't ask for any more the rest of the ride.
The first large climb was indeed just after our stop. Called the Mindoro Cut, it is the 2nd largest hand made cut in the US. It's a beautiful climb, not too steep, but twisting, shady and pleasant. It isn't ridden by bicyclists very often because it's not really on the way to anything (unless you are riding 135 miles). I started my great tradition of the patient spin up to the top. Dan and Rob always waited, though I hope they didn't wait long. In addition to having a fun climb, we had a great descent too. This was one of the best climbs I've done in a while.
The next big climb was over the ridge before West Salem. This one was significantly steeper and meaner than the Mindoro Cut. I finally got to the top to find Dan with his head over his handlebars. Everyone has that really tough climb once in a while and I had to laugh when he lamented "What **hole designed this route? Oh, it was me". I must admit I was somewhat relieved that we were going to be rolling into a place to eat lunch. It was closing on 2:00 pm and my breakfast sandwich at 6 was long gone.
At West Salem, I danced to disco music at Quisnos which we hear is going out of business. But at least that day, it was serving salty subs and boy did they taste good. This was at about the 100k mark so only a little over 100k to go and only about 20 miles to Coon Valley.
Well, okay it was 20 miles of really nice climbing and some big hills. This was also the hottest part of the day. I had a really nice chat with Rob while Dan charged ahead (he must have had more peppers on his sub). I can't decide how all this came up but topics included: slutwalks, men's shorts, and PBP. Many people ask me what you talk about on a ride. Voila!
At Coon Valley, we had some really awesome Freal Milkshakes at the Kwik Trip. I hadn't ever had one, but Rob is correct that they are mighty tasty, especially when it's 95. I also decided to ditch the sports bra as it was tight, soaking wet and uncomfortable. I tied it to the back of my rack as a mini-protest about the unfairness of female clothing. At least it dried.
Coon Valley to Melrose was the last longer leg at 40 miles. We passed through something with Bohemian in the title, might have been Bohemian pass (look mom, I've gone bohemian). We stopped briefly to get water at a gas station before tackling what Dan assured us was the last hill.
You know it is really not so good when you come to a hill and it has a name. This one's name was Tamarack Hill. It was long and steep and at 5:30 pm, it was swealtering. I had to stop halfway after sweat dumped sunscreen into my eye. It just poured off me, especially with a slight tailwind that stilled the air.
Rob and Dan were waiting at the top once more. And there was one more hill to go too (but much smaller). Indeed, it was much smaller and even though I again flooded my eyes. It passed quickly.
We got into Melrose at about 7 with 17 miles to go. No more hills turned out to be no more "big" hills and we basically rode rollers the rest of the night. We got one more really nice view of the Black River about 7 miles from the finish. Beautiful during the beginning of sunset.
We wound up rolling into the finish just short of the dark. We only needed lights for the few blocks back to Dan's house. There, his wife had held dinner and we were offered showers before our drive home as well. "As long as you don't mind showering with Barbie," was the caveat. Indeed, Dan's two girls are Barbie efficienados and there were a total of 8 Barbies in the bathtub. I might have felt more self conscious in front of a bunch of Ken's but I can deal with an army of girls. Besides, I had enough salt on me at this point to start my own sea.
We left around 10 pm for the drive home. I managed to make it about halfway before Rob took over driving and we saw some spectacular thunderstorms rolling in. Sometimes you have to be really thankful that the ride is over.
This was a great ride, no two ways about it. We finished in about 11:20 ride time and that's not too shabby considering the heat, wind and the elevation. I've got one more long ride before PBP. Then we shall see how good a shape I really am in.
I'm a big fan of permanents and this is a new permanent owned by one of the other randonneurs in Wisconsin. This was, in fact, the inaugural ride of this perm and even its stalwart owner hadn't actually done it on a bike yet.
The ride itself starts in Black River Falls, WI. That's about a 3 hour drive from my house. RBA Rob was also interested in riding so we made arrangements to carpool. The ride is 218K in some really hilly country and we had around 6 hours of driving time. That makes for an early rise.
But first, the concept of the coulee. I've noticed that this appears to be an upper midwest term from the French. Here is the dictionary definition:
| 1. | a.a flow of molten lava |
| b.such lava when solidified | |
| 2. | ( Western US ), ( Canadian ) a dry stream valley, especially a long steep-sided gorge or ravine that once carried melt water from a glacier |
| 3. | a small intermittent stream in such a ravine |
We got to Dan's house in Black River Falls at a little before 9:00 am for a 9:20 start. In true fashion, I managed to forget socks and reflective gear and had to borrow. We were not entirely sure we could finish this ride in daylight so lights were aplenty.
The first few miles are rolling with many farms and a small Amish community. It was already getting hot and the wind was in our faces so we kind of had to work for the miles. RBA Rob usually rides much faster than I do, but this was a fun, social ride.
We rolled into Blair (22 miles) with about an hour on the clock and had something to drink. Just the 10 minute stop was enough to drive my bike thermometer up to 104 - balmy. We were in some fairly significant rollers and climbs, but Dan kept assuring us that the big hills were still to come. There has been quite a bit of rain of late and flooding had been a real possibility. The Black River, which we crossed and flirted with all day, was swollen in its banks. We made a stop about 10 miles from the West Salem Control at a small gas station. The heat was on and I discovered that mixing mint ice cream bars and V8 can in fact taste good provided that it is hot enough. I also brought along Zym electrolyte tablets for my bottles. Pulling them out, I offered one to Rob. He popped it right in his mouth, chewed and swallowed. That turned out to be not a good idea since the tablet fizzed for about 20 minutes with the predicted consequences. Rob didn't ask for any more the rest of the ride.
The first large climb was indeed just after our stop. Called the Mindoro Cut, it is the 2nd largest hand made cut in the US. It's a beautiful climb, not too steep, but twisting, shady and pleasant. It isn't ridden by bicyclists very often because it's not really on the way to anything (unless you are riding 135 miles). I started my great tradition of the patient spin up to the top. Dan and Rob always waited, though I hope they didn't wait long. In addition to having a fun climb, we had a great descent too. This was one of the best climbs I've done in a while.The next big climb was over the ridge before West Salem. This one was significantly steeper and meaner than the Mindoro Cut. I finally got to the top to find Dan with his head over his handlebars. Everyone has that really tough climb once in a while and I had to laugh when he lamented "What **hole designed this route? Oh, it was me". I must admit I was somewhat relieved that we were going to be rolling into a place to eat lunch. It was closing on 2:00 pm and my breakfast sandwich at 6 was long gone.
At West Salem, I danced to disco music at Quisnos which we hear is going out of business. But at least that day, it was serving salty subs and boy did they taste good. This was at about the 100k mark so only a little over 100k to go and only about 20 miles to Coon Valley.
Well, okay it was 20 miles of really nice climbing and some big hills. This was also the hottest part of the day. I had a really nice chat with Rob while Dan charged ahead (he must have had more peppers on his sub). I can't decide how all this came up but topics included: slutwalks, men's shorts, and PBP. Many people ask me what you talk about on a ride. Voila!
At Coon Valley, we had some really awesome Freal Milkshakes at the Kwik Trip. I hadn't ever had one, but Rob is correct that they are mighty tasty, especially when it's 95. I also decided to ditch the sports bra as it was tight, soaking wet and uncomfortable. I tied it to the back of my rack as a mini-protest about the unfairness of female clothing. At least it dried.
Coon Valley to Melrose was the last longer leg at 40 miles. We passed through something with Bohemian in the title, might have been Bohemian pass (look mom, I've gone bohemian). We stopped briefly to get water at a gas station before tackling what Dan assured us was the last hill.
You know it is really not so good when you come to a hill and it has a name. This one's name was Tamarack Hill. It was long and steep and at 5:30 pm, it was swealtering. I had to stop halfway after sweat dumped sunscreen into my eye. It just poured off me, especially with a slight tailwind that stilled the air.
Rob and Dan were waiting at the top once more. And there was one more hill to go too (but much smaller). Indeed, it was much smaller and even though I again flooded my eyes. It passed quickly.
We got into Melrose at about 7 with 17 miles to go. No more hills turned out to be no more "big" hills and we basically rode rollers the rest of the night. We got one more really nice view of the Black River about 7 miles from the finish. Beautiful during the beginning of sunset.
We wound up rolling into the finish just short of the dark. We only needed lights for the few blocks back to Dan's house. There, his wife had held dinner and we were offered showers before our drive home as well. "As long as you don't mind showering with Barbie," was the caveat. Indeed, Dan's two girls are Barbie efficienados and there were a total of 8 Barbies in the bathtub. I might have felt more self conscious in front of a bunch of Ken's but I can deal with an army of girls. Besides, I had enough salt on me at this point to start my own sea.
We left around 10 pm for the drive home. I managed to make it about halfway before Rob took over driving and we saw some spectacular thunderstorms rolling in. Sometimes you have to be really thankful that the ride is over.
This was a great ride, no two ways about it. We finished in about 11:20 ride time and that's not too shabby considering the heat, wind and the elevation. I've got one more long ride before PBP. Then we shall see how good a shape I really am in.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Road Pixie and SpinBob flirt with Thor while IronK and the Super Domestique meet Captain America
Origin Story:
I've been looking for a good moniker for Bob for an age, then I saw that there was a new species of sponge called Spongiforma squarepantsii and it hit me, SpinBob! The perfect name considering the fact that he has the fastest cadence of anyone I know.
The Epic Begins
This ride had all the makings of an superhero epic, 2 significant others, a ride that started at 8:00 PM and 2 unlikely heros who just couldn't make it through the Hawkeye to save their lives.
Road Pixie actually tried to make herself feel better by going out and surveying the RUSA site to review the things she had actually succeeded on this year. To her great surprise, the 5000K medal was a mere 300k off. Surely a good omen about the upcoming Rochester 300k Brevet? This was a comforting thought.
The PBP gurus of Minnesota (at least one is in the Charley Miller Society) came up with the brilliant idea of starting this ride at 8:00pm which is the end of the 90 hour start group in PBP. Every ride in the US seems to start in the AM, but starting a ride at night is subtly different. They sweetened up the ride by making it a climbing-fest: the beautiful, yet deadly Apple Blossom Hill up the bluff of the Mississipi, the long Money Creek Hill, and Vinegar Hill, a descent with a near-180 degree hairpin at the bottom. Just the ticket for a night ride.
Since the princess was still packed, I resolved to take everything with me that I would take at PBP. That wasn't a problem since rain was all over the forecast along with high heat an humidity. One doesn't often consider it being too hot at night, but it can be....
IronK and I drove down and got a room for her to share with the Super Domestique (Bob's significant other). I considered riding to the ride which is about 100 miles, but rejected that idea when I realized it defeated the purpose of a night start to a brevet.
The 4 of us met early to discuss PBP logistics and visit. During this period, we discovered that Bob's cat had stolen his shorts right out of his bag (really, that's the theory of why there weren't there). Fortunately, Eriks Bike Shop was close and soon Bob was sporting some new threads (all heros have to wear spandex you know).
There was a pre-ride dinner at Fazolis, home of the never ending salty breadstick. The temperature was in the high 80s with nasty humidity so I ate 3 of them. Nice to actually see some of the Minnesota Randonneurs. At this point, the spouses decided upon seeing Captain America (like we're not heroic enough riding 200 miles in the dark?) and took of for the air conditioned theater (note on the Red Skull, I don't care what the super serum does to make you more of what you are, if I expected to become a super hero and woke up with a shriveled red face, I'd be pissed too).
In the final check, I discovered I had not packed gloves. Oh well, this was to be a ride without them. I also decided to do the Euro thing and ride without the medival chest tyranny also known as the sports bra. Hey, this was practice for PBP! We suited up and went to the start.
There we found a miracle had occurred. Renee and Ed were there so I would not be the only female on the ride. Hallelujah! I had some nice words with Martin and others and soon we were all off into the sauna that was the night. I decided to go ahead with the super serum and popped a bunch of Sudafed to make my lungs invincible (hey, it's not just for meth anymore); it kept me awake too.
The first 20 miles to Stewartville were pretty uneventful. Nearly everyone took off and Bob, myself, Renee and Ed were on our own. Bob and I inadvertantly cruised off without the other two, oops. Well, you can't have everything. As we came into Stewartville, fireworks went off; I'm sure they knew heros were coming in advance. Between Stewartville and Chatfield, the first control, we were making good time and I unzipped my jersey to stay cool; it was dark, what's the harm?
Okay, the harm came in Chatfield when I walked into Kwik Trip nearly topless. I'm sure my visit will not be forgotten by the horde of locals that were there for some reason, but I still had more actual fabric covering me than Wonder Woman does. I zipped up, bought my chocolate milk and hid by the dumpster; this was one Kwik Trip.
We left Chatfield and began climbing a short hill on CR40 when another rider passed us going back to Chatfield. This turned out to be someone who had been wiped out by riding that 100 miles to the start. He made the most of things by returning to the Walmart start, buying a lawn chair and some refreshments and hanging out in party mode in the parking lot until the end of the ride. A unique solution to a sticky problem.
We started seeing Thor pounding around with the lightning hammer on the horizon between Chatfield and Rushford. Big bursts of light would illuminate the clouds and I was happy I had ample rain gear. It seemed almost for sure that the storm behind us would eventually catch up. We rolled into Rushford at 12:06, which I was very happy about. Mike Aeling, our former RBA, was there with Gatorade and I hadn't seen him all year. He was optimistic about the weather. "The storm is passing to the north, you will maybe see light rain". We stopped to chat about 20 minutes where he gave us all the advice one comes to expect from one's elder superheros: thank you Miyagi-San. Others left before us and we would up being 20 minutes behind them for the rest of the ride.
We cruised onto the Root River Trail at about 12:30 and were careful of the debris caused by 3 weeks of state shutdown and innumerable storms. The lightning continued to light up the sky. Was Thor keeping his distance because he was intimidated or were we just too stealthy? The fact that we had 10 lbs of rain gear was surely a ward. It was also on the way to La Crescent where the army of frogs showed up. SpinBob had previously been assaulted by them on the Iowa 600k. I made lots of turns staying away from them. Just before La Crescent we got a tiny glimpse of the moon, then were hit with about 10 raindrops. The wind was very strong in our faces but that was all the thunder god could cough up for the night.
At La Crescent, we chowed down since there hadn't been anything but PowerAde at the last control. It was here that we noticed that not only was there an army of frogs, but an army of mayflies. Thankfully, the army of mosquitos sat this one out. I did spy a banana outside the Kwik Trip covered with mayflies, obviously dropped by one of the other riders. But a banana is a banana and I figured when we caught up, I could heroically hand it off to its owner. We took off after 25 minutes and started through town towards Apple Blossom Hill. It was here that we saw the sign of a lifetime; a sure sign that Stephen King had moved in to town.
Yup, I actually turned around and got off my bike to take this photo. It's for real. There is a Church of the Crucifixion and this is their summer festival; research afterwards told us that, at the time we were in a stitch over it.
Apple Blossom Hill really wasn't that bad, a long tempo climb and the fabulous twinkling lights of LaCross/LaCrescent were worth it. I stopped to take pictures and just gaze down (the pictures stunk though). It was a quick 10 miles to Nodine which we made very good time to. We didn't see anyone we knew and I decided that since I had hauled the banana up the hill, I deserved to eat it (it was much riper after an hour in my hot pocket anyway). By 4:00, we were cruising back to Rushford.
All epic tales have this middle section where things look bleak. The first setback was an encounter with Chipseal, nasty villan, for 6 miles just outside Nodine. It sounded like we were riding on glass and had a pretty severe drag. Not horrible, but enough to make you work that much harder. We paused to make sure we hadn't picked up tar at the end. Then we had a huge downhill on MN76 but were again slowed by the even worse supervillan, Bad Pavement. I would have loved to fly down the hill and cruise through the beautiful valley, but instead I settled for gripping the handlebars and playing dodgem with potholes and cracks. Happily, no one was injured and Martin the IronRando says the road is being replaced this year.
We arrived at Money Creek just as it got light and that was really nice because the climb is really beautiful. Of course, it is a mile long and about 6-8% too (sort of mini Mt Lemmon). But we were happy at the top and by the time we were at the top, morning was in full swing and the birds were singing. The descent down Vinegar Hill was fun too, especially the hairpin turn; much more fun in the light than the dark.
At Rushford, the 200k mark, we finally sat down for a little longer stop and had a good breakfast. Many were pretty awed by us riding all night (must be the spandex too). We also brushed our teeth, a small act that can really feel good after a gallon of sugary drinks. I took a rare self photo that didn't make me look like a troll either.
We left for our last 100k at about 7:30. After Money Creek, the Rushford Hill didn't seem to have nearly as much bite. We were also alert enough to spot some pot plants growing along the road. SpinBob also revealed his alternate life as a master gardener (though he didn't garden pot plants) - every good hero has a couple of good alternate identities.
At Chatfield, we made a 5 minute stop and called the rando-spouses. At this point, it was a bit after 9:00 am and we only had 35 miles to go. One more climb out of Chatfield and we cruised through Stewartville very quickly. Then we hit a huge headwind (about 20 mph) that was with us for the rest of the ride. It slowed us a bit, normally we would have cruised along at about 18, but it held us back to about 13-15. The rollers on CR22 in Rochester were somewhat of a surprise to SpinBob, the last time we went through, the drunk drivers must have been distracting him.
Dramatic Finish to A Cheering Crowd
It was just before noon when we rolled into the Kwik Trip to the applause of RBA Rob and the spouses. Nearly 16 hours, 14 hours of actual time in the saddle. Not too bad considering the conditions. I felt great until I got in the car and started lounging. Then a wave of fatigue hit me like a wall of bricks and I slept all the way home. I had gotten up at 5:00 am the previous morning so that makes 32 hours of continuously being awake and active. Had I kept going on the bike, I could probably have gotten at least another 100k in. That would have made about 36 hours of continuous action. Gives me confidence for PBP.
On the happy side, I loved having no gloves. My hands never had any numbness or soreness the entire time (which is unheard of). I will bring them in my bag, but I am going to try riding without.
Renee and Ed got lost but still finished the ride a few hours later. So the only one not to finish got a new lawn chair as a consolation. I will be seeing everyone in 2 weeks for the AV400k. My last long one before PBP.
I've been looking for a good moniker for Bob for an age, then I saw that there was a new species of sponge called Spongiforma squarepantsii and it hit me, SpinBob! The perfect name considering the fact that he has the fastest cadence of anyone I know.
The Epic Begins
This ride had all the makings of an superhero epic, 2 significant others, a ride that started at 8:00 PM and 2 unlikely heros who just couldn't make it through the Hawkeye to save their lives.
Road Pixie actually tried to make herself feel better by going out and surveying the RUSA site to review the things she had actually succeeded on this year. To her great surprise, the 5000K medal was a mere 300k off. Surely a good omen about the upcoming Rochester 300k Brevet? This was a comforting thought.
The PBP gurus of Minnesota (at least one is in the Charley Miller Society) came up with the brilliant idea of starting this ride at 8:00pm which is the end of the 90 hour start group in PBP. Every ride in the US seems to start in the AM, but starting a ride at night is subtly different. They sweetened up the ride by making it a climbing-fest: the beautiful, yet deadly Apple Blossom Hill up the bluff of the Mississipi, the long Money Creek Hill, and Vinegar Hill, a descent with a near-180 degree hairpin at the bottom. Just the ticket for a night ride.
Since the princess was still packed, I resolved to take everything with me that I would take at PBP. That wasn't a problem since rain was all over the forecast along with high heat an humidity. One doesn't often consider it being too hot at night, but it can be....
IronK and I drove down and got a room for her to share with the Super Domestique (Bob's significant other). I considered riding to the ride which is about 100 miles, but rejected that idea when I realized it defeated the purpose of a night start to a brevet.
The 4 of us met early to discuss PBP logistics and visit. During this period, we discovered that Bob's cat had stolen his shorts right out of his bag (really, that's the theory of why there weren't there). Fortunately, Eriks Bike Shop was close and soon Bob was sporting some new threads (all heros have to wear spandex you know).
There was a pre-ride dinner at Fazolis, home of the never ending salty breadstick. The temperature was in the high 80s with nasty humidity so I ate 3 of them. Nice to actually see some of the Minnesota Randonneurs. At this point, the spouses decided upon seeing Captain America (like we're not heroic enough riding 200 miles in the dark?) and took of for the air conditioned theater (note on the Red Skull, I don't care what the super serum does to make you more of what you are, if I expected to become a super hero and woke up with a shriveled red face, I'd be pissed too).
In the final check, I discovered I had not packed gloves. Oh well, this was to be a ride without them. I also decided to do the Euro thing and ride without the medival chest tyranny also known as the sports bra. Hey, this was practice for PBP! We suited up and went to the start.
There we found a miracle had occurred. Renee and Ed were there so I would not be the only female on the ride. Hallelujah! I had some nice words with Martin and others and soon we were all off into the sauna that was the night. I decided to go ahead with the super serum and popped a bunch of Sudafed to make my lungs invincible (hey, it's not just for meth anymore); it kept me awake too.
The first 20 miles to Stewartville were pretty uneventful. Nearly everyone took off and Bob, myself, Renee and Ed were on our own. Bob and I inadvertantly cruised off without the other two, oops. Well, you can't have everything. As we came into Stewartville, fireworks went off; I'm sure they knew heros were coming in advance. Between Stewartville and Chatfield, the first control, we were making good time and I unzipped my jersey to stay cool; it was dark, what's the harm?
Okay, the harm came in Chatfield when I walked into Kwik Trip nearly topless. I'm sure my visit will not be forgotten by the horde of locals that were there for some reason, but I still had more actual fabric covering me than Wonder Woman does. I zipped up, bought my chocolate milk and hid by the dumpster; this was one Kwik Trip.
We left Chatfield and began climbing a short hill on CR40 when another rider passed us going back to Chatfield. This turned out to be someone who had been wiped out by riding that 100 miles to the start. He made the most of things by returning to the Walmart start, buying a lawn chair and some refreshments and hanging out in party mode in the parking lot until the end of the ride. A unique solution to a sticky problem.
We started seeing Thor pounding around with the lightning hammer on the horizon between Chatfield and Rushford. Big bursts of light would illuminate the clouds and I was happy I had ample rain gear. It seemed almost for sure that the storm behind us would eventually catch up. We rolled into Rushford at 12:06, which I was very happy about. Mike Aeling, our former RBA, was there with Gatorade and I hadn't seen him all year. He was optimistic about the weather. "The storm is passing to the north, you will maybe see light rain". We stopped to chat about 20 minutes where he gave us all the advice one comes to expect from one's elder superheros: thank you Miyagi-San. Others left before us and we would up being 20 minutes behind them for the rest of the ride.
We cruised onto the Root River Trail at about 12:30 and were careful of the debris caused by 3 weeks of state shutdown and innumerable storms. The lightning continued to light up the sky. Was Thor keeping his distance because he was intimidated or were we just too stealthy? The fact that we had 10 lbs of rain gear was surely a ward. It was also on the way to La Crescent where the army of frogs showed up. SpinBob had previously been assaulted by them on the Iowa 600k. I made lots of turns staying away from them. Just before La Crescent we got a tiny glimpse of the moon, then were hit with about 10 raindrops. The wind was very strong in our faces but that was all the thunder god could cough up for the night.
At La Crescent, we chowed down since there hadn't been anything but PowerAde at the last control. It was here that we noticed that not only was there an army of frogs, but an army of mayflies. Thankfully, the army of mosquitos sat this one out. I did spy a banana outside the Kwik Trip covered with mayflies, obviously dropped by one of the other riders. But a banana is a banana and I figured when we caught up, I could heroically hand it off to its owner. We took off after 25 minutes and started through town towards Apple Blossom Hill. It was here that we saw the sign of a lifetime; a sure sign that Stephen King had moved in to town.
Yup, I actually turned around and got off my bike to take this photo. It's for real. There is a Church of the Crucifixion and this is their summer festival; research afterwards told us that, at the time we were in a stitch over it.
Apple Blossom Hill really wasn't that bad, a long tempo climb and the fabulous twinkling lights of LaCross/LaCrescent were worth it. I stopped to take pictures and just gaze down (the pictures stunk though). It was a quick 10 miles to Nodine which we made very good time to. We didn't see anyone we knew and I decided that since I had hauled the banana up the hill, I deserved to eat it (it was much riper after an hour in my hot pocket anyway). By 4:00, we were cruising back to Rushford.
All epic tales have this middle section where things look bleak. The first setback was an encounter with Chipseal, nasty villan, for 6 miles just outside Nodine. It sounded like we were riding on glass and had a pretty severe drag. Not horrible, but enough to make you work that much harder. We paused to make sure we hadn't picked up tar at the end. Then we had a huge downhill on MN76 but were again slowed by the even worse supervillan, Bad Pavement. I would have loved to fly down the hill and cruise through the beautiful valley, but instead I settled for gripping the handlebars and playing dodgem with potholes and cracks. Happily, no one was injured and Martin the IronRando says the road is being replaced this year.
We arrived at Money Creek just as it got light and that was really nice because the climb is really beautiful. Of course, it is a mile long and about 6-8% too (sort of mini Mt Lemmon). But we were happy at the top and by the time we were at the top, morning was in full swing and the birds were singing. The descent down Vinegar Hill was fun too, especially the hairpin turn; much more fun in the light than the dark.
At Rushford, the 200k mark, we finally sat down for a little longer stop and had a good breakfast. Many were pretty awed by us riding all night (must be the spandex too). We also brushed our teeth, a small act that can really feel good after a gallon of sugary drinks. I took a rare self photo that didn't make me look like a troll either.
 |
| Road Pixie in non-troll form |
At Chatfield, we made a 5 minute stop and called the rando-spouses. At this point, it was a bit after 9:00 am and we only had 35 miles to go. One more climb out of Chatfield and we cruised through Stewartville very quickly. Then we hit a huge headwind (about 20 mph) that was with us for the rest of the ride. It slowed us a bit, normally we would have cruised along at about 18, but it held us back to about 13-15. The rollers on CR22 in Rochester were somewhat of a surprise to SpinBob, the last time we went through, the drunk drivers must have been distracting him.
Dramatic Finish to A Cheering Crowd
It was just before noon when we rolled into the Kwik Trip to the applause of RBA Rob and the spouses. Nearly 16 hours, 14 hours of actual time in the saddle. Not too bad considering the conditions. I felt great until I got in the car and started lounging. Then a wave of fatigue hit me like a wall of bricks and I slept all the way home. I had gotten up at 5:00 am the previous morning so that makes 32 hours of continuously being awake and active. Had I kept going on the bike, I could probably have gotten at least another 100k in. That would have made about 36 hours of continuous action. Gives me confidence for PBP.
On the happy side, I loved having no gloves. My hands never had any numbness or soreness the entire time (which is unheard of). I will bring them in my bag, but I am going to try riding without.
Renee and Ed got lost but still finished the ride a few hours later. So the only one not to finish got a new lawn chair as a consolation. I will be seeing everyone in 2 weeks for the AV400k. My last long one before PBP.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
When not to ride
This weekend is the Hawkeye 1000k. I had really wanted a 1000k ride under my belt before PBP and Bob was going. Though the Cascades it isn't, Iowa is a pretty state and I looked forward to this ride a lot.
The first thing to go wrong was 6 days before the start, Sunday I discovered my bottom bracket had bad bearings. Not good. I rushed it to the bike shop where they assured me it could be fixed by Tuesday (drive to Iowa was Thursday). Then on Tuesday, I came down with some kind of colitis leading to spending 1 day curled on my bathroom floor in a ball; I also found out I had another bacterial infection in my lungs and sinuses, time for antibiotics. Wednesday, I roused myself in the afternoon to pick up the bike. Alas, the new BB had backordered. With 2 hours until close, I frantically drove around town trying to get a new one. Finally found one, got the bike back and fixed at 9:00 pm. I had also now used up the remainder of my sick time and was burning vacation being sick. I still felt a little queasy and weak and realized that I was probably dehydrated. I was desperate to hydrate so we drove to Iowa with lots of water.
Got to Cedar Falls and had a challenging birthday dinner for IronK. This was planned since if my stomach was bad enough to cramp before the ride started, it was going to be a bad thing. Weather report was forecasting a heat wave coupled with high humidity. The heat index on 2 days was going to be 100-115 and that is in the shade. I slept somewhat poorly, waking up on the verge of my stomach cramping. I finally rose with Bob at 4:00 am and had breakfast. It nearly reappeared.
At that point, I realized that my stomach was not going to be 100% for the start of the ride and neither was I. Melissa, Super Domestique, and IronK both pointed out that Paris is the goal this year, not Iowa. I could do some serious harm to myself if I couldn't absorb the water and electrolytes I needed on this ride.
Sometimes, you have to acknowledge, however painfully, that the cards are simply not in your favor. I recently berated a friend for going on a 70 mile ride while ill during an excessive heat warning. He wound up sick as a dog for a week. I was not going to put myself in that situation with no sick time left and only 5 weeks before PBP. The next 3 weeks are my final weeks for training, not for recovering from this ride.
So I pulled the plug before the start. I hauled IronK out of bed and into the car in her pajamas. I just couldn't bear the thought of watching everyone else ride off without me. We drove off before the riders left at 5:00 am. It was a hard, but correct choice. I got back and took it easy and am feeling much stronger, though the stomach still isn't totally chipper. Gary has a new bike and so tomorrow we will beat the heat on my 100k permanent. I can test out my equipment then and enjoy the time on my bike instead of baking on it.
To ride as we do requires not only physical prowess, but wisdom and understanding about just how difficult this sport is. Any ride over 100 miles is a big deal not matter how many 200ks you have done. You must always respect the distance or face the consequences.
The first thing to go wrong was 6 days before the start, Sunday I discovered my bottom bracket had bad bearings. Not good. I rushed it to the bike shop where they assured me it could be fixed by Tuesday (drive to Iowa was Thursday). Then on Tuesday, I came down with some kind of colitis leading to spending 1 day curled on my bathroom floor in a ball; I also found out I had another bacterial infection in my lungs and sinuses, time for antibiotics. Wednesday, I roused myself in the afternoon to pick up the bike. Alas, the new BB had backordered. With 2 hours until close, I frantically drove around town trying to get a new one. Finally found one, got the bike back and fixed at 9:00 pm. I had also now used up the remainder of my sick time and was burning vacation being sick. I still felt a little queasy and weak and realized that I was probably dehydrated. I was desperate to hydrate so we drove to Iowa with lots of water.
Got to Cedar Falls and had a challenging birthday dinner for IronK. This was planned since if my stomach was bad enough to cramp before the ride started, it was going to be a bad thing. Weather report was forecasting a heat wave coupled with high humidity. The heat index on 2 days was going to be 100-115 and that is in the shade. I slept somewhat poorly, waking up on the verge of my stomach cramping. I finally rose with Bob at 4:00 am and had breakfast. It nearly reappeared.
At that point, I realized that my stomach was not going to be 100% for the start of the ride and neither was I. Melissa, Super Domestique, and IronK both pointed out that Paris is the goal this year, not Iowa. I could do some serious harm to myself if I couldn't absorb the water and electrolytes I needed on this ride.
Sometimes, you have to acknowledge, however painfully, that the cards are simply not in your favor. I recently berated a friend for going on a 70 mile ride while ill during an excessive heat warning. He wound up sick as a dog for a week. I was not going to put myself in that situation with no sick time left and only 5 weeks before PBP. The next 3 weeks are my final weeks for training, not for recovering from this ride.
So I pulled the plug before the start. I hauled IronK out of bed and into the car in her pajamas. I just couldn't bear the thought of watching everyone else ride off without me. We drove off before the riders left at 5:00 am. It was a hard, but correct choice. I got back and took it easy and am feeling much stronger, though the stomach still isn't totally chipper. Gary has a new bike and so tomorrow we will beat the heat on my 100k permanent. I can test out my equipment then and enjoy the time on my bike instead of baking on it.
To ride as we do requires not only physical prowess, but wisdom and understanding about just how difficult this sport is. Any ride over 100 miles is a big deal not matter how many 200ks you have done. You must always respect the distance or face the consequences.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Wisconsin Hills 2: The Hills Strike Back
A bike has died this day.....
I have now done this permanent 3 times and each time there is just something new. I'll bet that when Gary put it together, he had no idea that it would go so far as to destroy his bike. Of course, he does also note that whenever he rides with me, he has flat tires, exploding tires, and now a destroyed bike. These things just don't happen when I am not there as a witness (could it be a new lesbian super-power?)
Hills of Wisconsin is a great ride. 126 miles and 7,000 ft of climbing including some long tempo climbs, gargantuan rollers and some semi-short things that just make eyes get really big on the approach. I've gotten much better at climbing since riding this ride. Totally worth driving an hour to get to the start.
On this particular day, Gary was letting me use his mighty cool generator hub. I had been thinking of getting one, but wanted to get a feel for what the drag would be like. So even though it wasn't a night ride, we strapped it on anyways. I think proceeded to forget to inflate my rear tire and wondered why all the drag was on the rear instead of the front - oops!
It was supposed to be a very hot day so we left early. That meant me leaving my house at 5:00 am for a 6:00am arrival and a 7:00am start. There had also been some road closures so we were testing out new detours (I'm sure we will really appreciate the road closures once they are open again, just not now). As previously mentioned, having 60 lbs of pressure in the rear tire made me feel like I was riding with a sandbag on my rack and we went along at an average of about 14 mph for the first 30 miles. Oh well, at least I got a better workout. The temperatures were in the 70s and it was quite pleasant. Since Cty Q is gravel, we had a new detour (the previous detour was now under construction) and it was quite nice, passing through the town of Downing and down a nice winding, hilly road called 130th St. Everything is incredibly green this year since it seems to rain more often than not. We got to Knapp and I used my frame pump to get some more air into the rear. This really improved things. It was about 9:30 and we had a slightly longer stop than normal.
CRQ from Knapp has a 19% climb right out of the control. It's one of those grin and bear it hills that makes me appreciate thigh muscles (all of them). At the top, we cruised along until we ran into another rider out for the morning. We stopped and had a nice chat for about 20 minutes, he and Gary had mutual acquaintances. It rained for about 4 miles, but the rain was warm and we didn't even bother with rain gear. At about 11:45, we pulled into Downsville, somewhat of a side trip, but there was a cafe worth having lunch at. At least, it might have been if their kitchen hadn't turned out to be a serial operation. Really, we didn't plan on spending an hour there. Some riders from the TCBC were on a Wisconsin Hills Ride from Spring Valley so it was nice seeing lots of bikers around.
I always enjoy the ride up to Menomonie along the river and consider it to be a highlight. Devil's Punch Bowl State Park is there and is always worth a glance. It was starting to heat up a bit and I needed to fill bottles.
Just outside Menomonie, we started up a little hill. Gary was ahead of me and I dropped back to find a better line on some rough pavement. There was a loud bang and suddenly parts started flying out of the back of Gary's drivetrain. He skidded a little and executed a brilliant roll off the bike. I rushed over and found he had barely a scratch on him. There wasn't even a scuff on the bike.
Of course, that didn't mean that the bike wasn't a goner. It died long before hitting the pavement. The rear drive side dropout had shattered causing the wheel to go off true, catch the derailleur in the spokes which wrapped it upwards until it struck and cracked the chainstay. The spokes, to give them credit, bent but did not break.
We stared and then got out the phone. Gary called Debbie, hereafter known as Rando Spouse, since we were really only an hour from his house. We walked the bike back to the corner and waited until she appeared with a new bike. By this time it was 4:00 pm and we were pushing the time limits. But back on the road we went. We cruised along the new detour (since N is under construction) with a brisk tail wind to assist. Up through Knapp we went and up a nice new hill to Wilson and along 100th Street to Burkhardt. We made it in plenty of time, which was pretty cool, all things considered. Rando Spouse even had really yummy food waiting at the finish.
On a happy note, Gary was able to negotiate a warranty/discount on a new bike!
The Bike is dead, Long Live the Bike!
I have now done this permanent 3 times and each time there is just something new. I'll bet that when Gary put it together, he had no idea that it would go so far as to destroy his bike. Of course, he does also note that whenever he rides with me, he has flat tires, exploding tires, and now a destroyed bike. These things just don't happen when I am not there as a witness (could it be a new lesbian super-power?)
Hills of Wisconsin is a great ride. 126 miles and 7,000 ft of climbing including some long tempo climbs, gargantuan rollers and some semi-short things that just make eyes get really big on the approach. I've gotten much better at climbing since riding this ride. Totally worth driving an hour to get to the start.
On this particular day, Gary was letting me use his mighty cool generator hub. I had been thinking of getting one, but wanted to get a feel for what the drag would be like. So even though it wasn't a night ride, we strapped it on anyways. I think proceeded to forget to inflate my rear tire and wondered why all the drag was on the rear instead of the front - oops!
It was supposed to be a very hot day so we left early. That meant me leaving my house at 5:00 am for a 6:00am arrival and a 7:00am start. There had also been some road closures so we were testing out new detours (I'm sure we will really appreciate the road closures once they are open again, just not now). As previously mentioned, having 60 lbs of pressure in the rear tire made me feel like I was riding with a sandbag on my rack and we went along at an average of about 14 mph for the first 30 miles. Oh well, at least I got a better workout. The temperatures were in the 70s and it was quite pleasant. Since Cty Q is gravel, we had a new detour (the previous detour was now under construction) and it was quite nice, passing through the town of Downing and down a nice winding, hilly road called 130th St. Everything is incredibly green this year since it seems to rain more often than not. We got to Knapp and I used my frame pump to get some more air into the rear. This really improved things. It was about 9:30 and we had a slightly longer stop than normal.
CRQ from Knapp has a 19% climb right out of the control. It's one of those grin and bear it hills that makes me appreciate thigh muscles (all of them). At the top, we cruised along until we ran into another rider out for the morning. We stopped and had a nice chat for about 20 minutes, he and Gary had mutual acquaintances. It rained for about 4 miles, but the rain was warm and we didn't even bother with rain gear. At about 11:45, we pulled into Downsville, somewhat of a side trip, but there was a cafe worth having lunch at. At least, it might have been if their kitchen hadn't turned out to be a serial operation. Really, we didn't plan on spending an hour there. Some riders from the TCBC were on a Wisconsin Hills Ride from Spring Valley so it was nice seeing lots of bikers around.
I always enjoy the ride up to Menomonie along the river and consider it to be a highlight. Devil's Punch Bowl State Park is there and is always worth a glance. It was starting to heat up a bit and I needed to fill bottles.
Just outside Menomonie, we started up a little hill. Gary was ahead of me and I dropped back to find a better line on some rough pavement. There was a loud bang and suddenly parts started flying out of the back of Gary's drivetrain. He skidded a little and executed a brilliant roll off the bike. I rushed over and found he had barely a scratch on him. There wasn't even a scuff on the bike.
Of course, that didn't mean that the bike wasn't a goner. It died long before hitting the pavement. The rear drive side dropout had shattered causing the wheel to go off true, catch the derailleur in the spokes which wrapped it upwards until it struck and cracked the chainstay. The spokes, to give them credit, bent but did not break.
We stared and then got out the phone. Gary called Debbie, hereafter known as Rando Spouse, since we were really only an hour from his house. We walked the bike back to the corner and waited until she appeared with a new bike. By this time it was 4:00 pm and we were pushing the time limits. But back on the road we went. We cruised along the new detour (since N is under construction) with a brisk tail wind to assist. Up through Knapp we went and up a nice new hill to Wilson and along 100th Street to Burkhardt. We made it in plenty of time, which was pretty cool, all things considered. Rando Spouse even had really yummy food waiting at the finish.
On a happy note, Gary was able to negotiate a warranty/discount on a new bike!
The Bike is dead, Long Live the Bike!
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