The blog has been late these last few weeks and with everything going on it's a miracle I get to write at all. But time to fill in the spots.
After thinking for awhile that brevets would be few and far between and cancelling the Cascades (due to them coinciding with the start of IronK's chemo), I still had the spring fleche to do. Ahi, Paul, Rick and I had been planning it for months and since it was a week after the first major surgery, the timing worked out.
A fleche (which is French for arrow) is a ride of 24 hours duration//minimum 360 km, usually in straight line, to a pre-set destination, in this case RBA Mike Aeling's house in Winona, MN. It is ridden as a team with 3-5 members and at least 3 must finish together. No stop can be more than 2 hours and the team must be at least 30 km from the end at 22 hours.
So began the adventures of the Barnum Bombers. Somehow, we managed to design a route with 40 extra kilometers so we had a 400k. There were 3 other teams as well, but as it turned out, ours was the longest route. We decided at the time that our strategy would be "no heroics" and that speed would not be an issue. We decided on a slower, steady pace with shorter, less frequent stops. So early in the season, we all felt like this would be a better approach.
So on May 15th at 9:00 am, Ahi's girlfriend, Laurie, dropped the 4 of us off in Barnum, MN. After a quick gear check, we road down Main Street to find the Willard Munger Trail which would lead us 37 miles to Hinckley. Unfortunately, even with 4 maps and a GPS, we got lost in the first mile and had to back track. How embarrassing! We looked all over and finally found it by tracking down Highway 61 (which it parallels). The Munger is a really nice, paved trail and though it is next to a major state highway, it still has plenty of lakes, forest and wildlife to make it a really nice ride. It was actually markedly earlier in the season up in Barnum then in the Twin Cities with the trees only just budding. We trucked along at about 17-18 mph, switching back and forth on the front. A small south wind was blowing that would wind up blowing all day, not strong, but noticeable.
At Hinckley, we paused to grab a snack and were quickly off to Pine City. For this section, we wound around some country roads to avoid a bridge that was out and headed south on MN 61 to Pine City. By this time, it was about 12:30 and we stopped at A&W Root Beer for burgers and a soda. This was only about 50 miles in and at 4 hours, we were comfortable with our time.
The next few hours were pretty uneventful as we pedaled south. Ahi had a brief bonk, corrected by Clif Shots and gummy bears. We exited 61 for the road to Sunrise, MN, home of Richard Widmark (famous film noir actor). By this time, it was closing on 5:00 pm and we passed the century mark. The next major stop, Stillwater, came at about 7:00 pm. Just outside the town, a mother wood duck and her babies crossed teh road right in front of us - there's something you don't see every day. In Stillwater, we paused again to pick up snacks. At this point, we started getting slightly worried about time, we had about a 2 hour cushion.
An hour later in Afton, we stopped for a burgers at the Catfish Saloon. A big sign said "Welcome BIkers", but they didn't exactly have us in mind. At this point, it began to get dark and all the reflective gear went on. This also marked the beginning of the hilly section of the course.
The next hour and a half to Hastings was interesting. It started with just hills, but as we turned onto Highway 10, just outside of town, we rode thorugh some of the dirtiest pavement ever ridden by road bikes. It also turned out to be full of glass (which would haunt us some hours later). The trip across the Hastings bridge over the Mississippi, was, what Paul called "possibly the stupidest thing I have ever done on a bike". It turned out that this weekend was the fishing opener and heavy traffic, semis, no bike lane and a really old bridge contributed to a real nail biter of a crossing. We were all relieved to still be alive at the end.
The next section was amoung my favorites. After a few dark miles outside Hastings, we turned onto a dirt road for several miles and peddled our way through a really nice forest. The overhanging trees and a crescent moon made it really something that a werewolf movie could be set in. After this section, we headed to the Cannon Valley trail for another forest tunnel to Red Wing. At this point, it was about midnight and we actually passed another rider on the trail. Hard to say who was more surprised to see others in the middle of the night. At this point, Rick and I screwed up and accidentally dropped Ahi and Paul, who had a flat. By the time we realized our error, we decided to simply wait. We were on the verge of going back when lights appeared. They had fixed the flat, but couldn't find the cause. We headed on to Perkins in Red Wing. By this time, it was about 40 degrees and we were all cold and hungry.
I think the staff at Perkins really felt sorry for us. We must have looked a little rough around the edges. Unfortunately, no soup, but I had some pancakes and something else that I don't remember. Someone actually sat outside and guarded our bikes (how nice). There were quite a few teenagers around having unmentionable teenage problems - I am really glad to be a crazy bicyclist hanging out in the dead of night at Perkins instead of being a teenager hanging out in the dead of night at Perkins.
As we got ready to leave, we discovered to our great chagrin that Paul's tire was flat again. We pulled it off and took it inside Perkins where it was much easier and warmer to change. I found the tiny piece of glass. Rejoicing, we got ready to leave, only to discover that Ahi's tire was also flat. So back into Perkins for another tire change (they must have been really happy to see us go). It was an hour and a half total at the stop, including tires.
The next 3 1/2 hours were great. At first, we were worried that we were behind. We still had about 50 miles to Alma, our 22 hour control and a few big climbs on Lake Pepin. But we were nearly the only ones on Highway 35! An amazing time to be riding on an otherwise busy road. The sun started coming up just outside Alma - really beautiful to look up the river and see the peach sky.
We got to Alma around 5:30 am, half an hour before the Pier 4 Cafe opened. We opted to pass the time at the Kwik Trip across the street where we lounged comfortably in the freezer section. I can say that after riding all night that almost anywhere feels really nice. At 6, we moved to the Cafe to discover that decorations had not changed since about 1940, complete with bare wooden benches. I had oatmeal and a nap sitting up on the bench. The greatest 15 minutes I have ever slept. We had about 27 miles to go.
At almost exactly 7:00AM we rolled out and finally made our way on the home stretch to Winona. At this point, we spread out a bit with Paul out front, then me a few yards back and Rick and Ahi aways farther. We all met up at the Winona bridge and rode the last 3-4 miles together arriving at almost exactly 9:00 AM. Right on time.
I have to say that this was one of my favorite rides. We had a great time and I would do it again in a heartbeat (though I might opt to shave a few km off and have a sleep stop). It's really an accomplishment to ride for 24 hours and one that I am very pleased to add to my belt. I can't think of better companions - I hope to ride with all of them again in the future.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Friday, April 30, 2010
New Reasons to Ride
The last 2 weeks have been a blur. IronK was diagnosed with leiomyosarcoma just 8 days ago. Tombstone 600K and the first Minnesota Brevet in Rochester are off the table for me.
I have always ridden my bike to clear my head and help my own health. Now besides those reasons, I might have new ones. IronK still wants me to ride the Cascades, if possible. But we are heading into surgery next week on her glutes and on her left lung. Radiation and chemotherapy will be following. It's an aggressive cancer and since she is in such fabulous health otherwise, the oncologists are being super aggressive with treatment.
We are already talking that a tandem might be in the sooner future now. Since we are both convinced that exercise is vital in the conquest of cancer, it may just be time to make a tandem the way to give us together time and exercise time without madating any specific level of work on her part.
All my other friends are also adamant that I need to stay on my bike to take care of myself as I take care of her in the coming months. Big battle. But the victory should be sweet!
I have always ridden my bike to clear my head and help my own health. Now besides those reasons, I might have new ones. IronK still wants me to ride the Cascades, if possible. But we are heading into surgery next week on her glutes and on her left lung. Radiation and chemotherapy will be following. It's an aggressive cancer and since she is in such fabulous health otherwise, the oncologists are being super aggressive with treatment.
We are already talking that a tandem might be in the sooner future now. Since we are both convinced that exercise is vital in the conquest of cancer, it may just be time to make a tandem the way to give us together time and exercise time without madating any specific level of work on her part.
All my other friends are also adamant that I need to stay on my bike to take care of myself as I take care of her in the coming months. Big battle. But the victory should be sweet!
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Road Pixie builds some wheels
Last year, Shredder won a wheel building class at the LBS during a presentation by Calvin Jones of Park Tool. Unfortunately, Shredder has built wheels for years so he gave me the class as a gift. With the Cascades coming up, understanding the mechanics of wheel building seems like a really good idea. I can always use a new set of wheels, these I figured I would be able to fix (having built them).
The first part of the adventure was picking hubs, spokes, and rims. That turned out to be a big sized adventure. It turns out some hubs cost as much as $400! I opted for the lightest, best hubs that I could find on bargain basement sale. One of them, I got all the way from England (of course, it was made in Colorado, but I would have paid much more money if it hadn't visited England first - thank the internet).
I wound up with all DT Swiss. Many said I should get touring rims, but looking at the specs I realized that they were too much for me. Sure they were strong and could ride tires that were 38mm, but I never ride tires like that and I weigh nothing compared with a big guy. In addition, a small 25mm tire on a 19mm channel would be very hard to change and that I did care about. So I went with a lighter racing rim. The spokes were dictated by the rims.
So here were the materials:
The second half of the class was about truing, rounding and balancing. I have to say that I can see how this gets easier the more you do it. The truing isn't nearly as hard as the rounding. It also turns out that spokes get twisted when you tighten so you bend the wheel on your knee (a lot) to release them.
Balancing means getting all the spokes to have about the same tension. This used to be a fine art, but Park Tool now has a tensionometer that measures it exactly and has a convenient spreedsheet to average everything and tell you exactly which spokes to tighten. Takes all the mystery out of the process. I now own one. The final step is spoke freeze on the spokes so that they don't loosen over time. But you have to oil the threads to use it otherwise, it freezes them completely and they can never be turned (sounds important).
Shredder showed up for the last class and helped me out by changing my rear derailleur and cassette. What a guy! I owe him big time. I still have the rounding to go on the last wheel and the final touches. Hopefully, this will get done in time for this weekend's ride.
The first part of the adventure was picking hubs, spokes, and rims. That turned out to be a big sized adventure. It turns out some hubs cost as much as $400! I opted for the lightest, best hubs that I could find on bargain basement sale. One of them, I got all the way from England (of course, it was made in Colorado, but I would have paid much more money if it hadn't visited England first - thank the internet).
I wound up with all DT Swiss. Many said I should get touring rims, but looking at the specs I realized that they were too much for me. Sure they were strong and could ride tires that were 38mm, but I never ride tires like that and I weigh nothing compared with a big guy. In addition, a small 25mm tire on a 19mm channel would be very hard to change and that I did care about. So I went with a lighter racing rim. The spokes were dictated by the rims.
So here were the materials:
- DT Swiss 340 rear hub and 240 front hub (couldn't find the 340 front anywhere)
- DT Swiss RR465 rims
- DT Swiss Revolution Spokes
The second half of the class was about truing, rounding and balancing. I have to say that I can see how this gets easier the more you do it. The truing isn't nearly as hard as the rounding. It also turns out that spokes get twisted when you tighten so you bend the wheel on your knee (a lot) to release them.
Balancing means getting all the spokes to have about the same tension. This used to be a fine art, but Park Tool now has a tensionometer that measures it exactly and has a convenient spreedsheet to average everything and tell you exactly which spokes to tighten. Takes all the mystery out of the process. I now own one. The final step is spoke freeze on the spokes so that they don't loosen over time. But you have to oil the threads to use it otherwise, it freezes them completely and they can never be turned (sounds important).
Shredder showed up for the last class and helped me out by changing my rear derailleur and cassette. What a guy! I owe him big time. I still have the rounding to go on the last wheel and the final touches. Hopefully, this will get done in time for this weekend's ride.
Wind Gods are fickle: Back to the Sakatah Hills Permanent
It appears that the weather gods have taken a big leap forward here in Minnesota and it's suddenly spring. Road Pixie is more used to snow than shorts, but found herself riding at 12:30 am on March 31 in short sleeves and shorts. Thus it must be time to find out what the actual pavement looks like on the Sakatah Hills Permanent.
Road Pixie had some company this time in the form of Ahi, who is also currently planning to do the Cascades. So we set out from the Kwik Trip figuring out at the start that we were riding on Easter Sunday and some things might not be open. Nonetheless, a start is a start. Rob saw us off. I got to wear about 3 layers less, just a long sleeved jersey and my favorite jacket and tights. Temperatures started in the mid 50's going up to about 65 during the day. For Minnesota in early April, it's a shocker - I'm still looking for snow by default.
However, warm weather in April also means big winds. These days wind is my friend, it's the only way to simulate one of the big climbs out west that go on for 30 miles. But it does beat you up more than a nice ride up a mountain pass does. Starting this ride was like riding into a wind tunnel, winds from the south-southwest at about 12 mph. They eventually became westerly (just in time for the turn onto the trail of course) at Faribault.
The trip to Fairbault was a long fight against that wind. Without the snow and with the longer daylight, it was a far cry from the frigid sunrise the last time I did this permanent. Though it's definitely easier to ride at 50 than 15, there wasn't nearly such a sublime feeling to the ride out. In fact, I found myself more focused on beating against the wind than watching what was going past. Ahi and I both fought the wind alone on this segment instead of pairing up. We must both have been in a masochistic mood.
Finally at Faribault, we opted for the sure-fire open Kwik Trip instead of the maybe open Hyvee grocery store as a control. Turned out the Hyvee was open but better safe than sorry. A quick 15 minutes, some peanut butter cups and V8 later and we were back on the road. This was where I started feeling the effects of my first mistake of the day, taking Sustained Energy.
I had a massive failing with Sustained Energy last year on my 600K after slipping into hyponatremia and nearly collapsing at mile 300. Though I am sure it is a great product, it really does require that you take Enduralytes with it and I hate pills. So I switched last summer to Infinite Nutrition, a custom sports drink that you can program your electrolyte needs into. That has worked much better, but I was out and thought "gee, I'll use the rest of this stuff in the cupboard". Not a good idea, maybe it's the soy, maybe it's the taste but the product makes me drink less and get less. By the time we were halfway across the trail, I was having serious cramps in my quads. We paused to raise my seat, it was still to low, my other mistake. Those two errors made what should have been a really great ride into an okay one. Live and learn.
In any case, the trail was amazingly rough too. BigG says the trail association just got some money from the Feds and I hope they spend part of it on fixing cracks! With the big headwind, Ahi and I spent the whole time taking a break and riding at about 13 miles an hour. The tree buds were just coming out and there were a fair amount of birds, but mainly the trail had the real sense of "hey, it's winter, where the heck is my snow?".
This time we did NOT miss the turn to Casey's in Madison Lake. After some mishaps with spilling the Sustained Energy, we got off in about 25 minutes. After 62 miles of massive headwinds, we felt like a little extra rest. North we went on Highway 26, at last a crosswind.
That segment I rode in front. Then we turned east onto MN99, my least favorite part the last time. This time, we had a serious break from the wind. The next 15 miles features a 20 mph tailwind! The first 5 miles were actually northeast and I think we were in shock, because we only sped up to about 18. At Le Center, Ahi was having some issues and needed to stop. He said he would catch up so I went on alone. At this point, the tailwind became dead one and I found myself clocking in at about 25 mph without working really hard. So I put the gas on and picked up to about 30 mph. What a blast! Reminded me of the end of my last 300K in Arizona.
Sadly, all things must end and so did the tailwind. I turned north to Lonsdale and still kept a good pace to the control. I lingered there thinking Ahi must be behind me. It was just about 3:00 when I got there. Alas, he wasn't there and I left after 20 minutes with a liter of Powerade and the realization that I was dehydrated. At this point, I'd worked my butt off for 100 miles and felt like soft-pedaling anyways so for the next 10 miles or so, that's what I did. I kept looking behind me, but no Ahi. Hmmm, perhaps I shouldn't have left him after all. But I finally decided to get on with things. The 4 mile stretch on Scott Cty 8 is not fun even with a little tailwind. The buzz strip just makes for too tiny a surface. But when I got to Lakeville and only 10 miles to go, I picked up some speed again only to lose it by failing to make every light in Lakeville. No Christmas lights or shoppers this time and I could actually see since it was about 4:20. I got back to the Kwick Trip at about 5:05. Total time 10:09 with my GPS reporting 9:02 minutes of riding time. Amazing how much time even quick controls stops soak up the time. One of the best features of my GPS is that it records how much time I spend at controls and how much they cost the bottom line in terms of overall miles per hour. It's a great training tool.
Ahi made it in about 10-15 minutes after me. I think I had just finished my chocolate milk when he pulled up. He'd been chasing me for miles, but had a great time on 99 (that tailwind was spectacular). I went home amazed at how much salt had accumulated on my skin. The long sleeved jersey really kept it in place instead of letting it blow away in the wind. No wonder I had so many cramps. I took a bunch of Endurolytes and some Advil. Nice piece of fish for dinner. Another ride complete.
Next big ride is the Tombstone 600K. I will see Rob there, but only at the start. He's one of those riders that I say hi to at the start and don't see again unless it's an out and back, then he passes me as I am still headed out. Only 10,000 feet of climbing, but Arizona has the same wind gods - let's hope they are in a good mood.
Road Pixie had some company this time in the form of Ahi, who is also currently planning to do the Cascades. So we set out from the Kwik Trip figuring out at the start that we were riding on Easter Sunday and some things might not be open. Nonetheless, a start is a start. Rob saw us off. I got to wear about 3 layers less, just a long sleeved jersey and my favorite jacket and tights. Temperatures started in the mid 50's going up to about 65 during the day. For Minnesota in early April, it's a shocker - I'm still looking for snow by default.
However, warm weather in April also means big winds. These days wind is my friend, it's the only way to simulate one of the big climbs out west that go on for 30 miles. But it does beat you up more than a nice ride up a mountain pass does. Starting this ride was like riding into a wind tunnel, winds from the south-southwest at about 12 mph. They eventually became westerly (just in time for the turn onto the trail of course) at Faribault.
The trip to Fairbault was a long fight against that wind. Without the snow and with the longer daylight, it was a far cry from the frigid sunrise the last time I did this permanent. Though it's definitely easier to ride at 50 than 15, there wasn't nearly such a sublime feeling to the ride out. In fact, I found myself more focused on beating against the wind than watching what was going past. Ahi and I both fought the wind alone on this segment instead of pairing up. We must both have been in a masochistic mood.
Finally at Faribault, we opted for the sure-fire open Kwik Trip instead of the maybe open Hyvee grocery store as a control. Turned out the Hyvee was open but better safe than sorry. A quick 15 minutes, some peanut butter cups and V8 later and we were back on the road. This was where I started feeling the effects of my first mistake of the day, taking Sustained Energy.
I had a massive failing with Sustained Energy last year on my 600K after slipping into hyponatremia and nearly collapsing at mile 300. Though I am sure it is a great product, it really does require that you take Enduralytes with it and I hate pills. So I switched last summer to Infinite Nutrition, a custom sports drink that you can program your electrolyte needs into. That has worked much better, but I was out and thought "gee, I'll use the rest of this stuff in the cupboard". Not a good idea, maybe it's the soy, maybe it's the taste but the product makes me drink less and get less. By the time we were halfway across the trail, I was having serious cramps in my quads. We paused to raise my seat, it was still to low, my other mistake. Those two errors made what should have been a really great ride into an okay one. Live and learn.
In any case, the trail was amazingly rough too. BigG says the trail association just got some money from the Feds and I hope they spend part of it on fixing cracks! With the big headwind, Ahi and I spent the whole time taking a break and riding at about 13 miles an hour. The tree buds were just coming out and there were a fair amount of birds, but mainly the trail had the real sense of "hey, it's winter, where the heck is my snow?".
This time we did NOT miss the turn to Casey's in Madison Lake. After some mishaps with spilling the Sustained Energy, we got off in about 25 minutes. After 62 miles of massive headwinds, we felt like a little extra rest. North we went on Highway 26, at last a crosswind.
That segment I rode in front. Then we turned east onto MN99, my least favorite part the last time. This time, we had a serious break from the wind. The next 15 miles features a 20 mph tailwind! The first 5 miles were actually northeast and I think we were in shock, because we only sped up to about 18. At Le Center, Ahi was having some issues and needed to stop. He said he would catch up so I went on alone. At this point, the tailwind became dead one and I found myself clocking in at about 25 mph without working really hard. So I put the gas on and picked up to about 30 mph. What a blast! Reminded me of the end of my last 300K in Arizona.
Sadly, all things must end and so did the tailwind. I turned north to Lonsdale and still kept a good pace to the control. I lingered there thinking Ahi must be behind me. It was just about 3:00 when I got there. Alas, he wasn't there and I left after 20 minutes with a liter of Powerade and the realization that I was dehydrated. At this point, I'd worked my butt off for 100 miles and felt like soft-pedaling anyways so for the next 10 miles or so, that's what I did. I kept looking behind me, but no Ahi. Hmmm, perhaps I shouldn't have left him after all. But I finally decided to get on with things. The 4 mile stretch on Scott Cty 8 is not fun even with a little tailwind. The buzz strip just makes for too tiny a surface. But when I got to Lakeville and only 10 miles to go, I picked up some speed again only to lose it by failing to make every light in Lakeville. No Christmas lights or shoppers this time and I could actually see since it was about 4:20. I got back to the Kwick Trip at about 5:05. Total time 10:09 with my GPS reporting 9:02 minutes of riding time. Amazing how much time even quick controls stops soak up the time. One of the best features of my GPS is that it records how much time I spend at controls and how much they cost the bottom line in terms of overall miles per hour. It's a great training tool.
Ahi made it in about 10-15 minutes after me. I think I had just finished my chocolate milk when he pulled up. He'd been chasing me for miles, but had a great time on 99 (that tailwind was spectacular). I went home amazed at how much salt had accumulated on my skin. The long sleeved jersey really kept it in place instead of letting it blow away in the wind. No wonder I had so many cramps. I took a bunch of Endurolytes and some Advil. Nice piece of fish for dinner. Another ride complete.
Next big ride is the Tombstone 600K. I will see Rob there, but only at the start. He's one of those riders that I say hi to at the start and don't see again unless it's an out and back, then he passes me as I am still headed out. Only 10,000 feet of climbing, but Arizona has the same wind gods - let's hope they are in a good mood.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Fountain Hills and Hot Tamales: 200K in North Phoenix
Having successfully completed the Saguaro National Park 300K brevet on Saturday, I decided to maximize my riding for the month by doing a permanent as well. Originally, the plan was to do it on Sunday, but Dad's birthday was Saturday and we had the party on Sunday. Dad trumps riding sometimes.
I picked out Mike Sturgill's North Phoenix and Fountain Hills 200K as a good follow up ride to the 300K. It was listed as "flatish" and for the most part it was. This being my off-season, I didn't want to overdo it and my chest was hurting due to bruised ribs and boughts of coughing after the dust on the 300K. It turned out to be a great choice.
I met Mike at the community college/park and ride near the start. Mike is one of those guys that I admire and potentially say hi to at the beginning of a brevet. His plan is to do the Cascades without needing to turn his lights on. I, on the other hand, will likely be recharging mine each night. Perhaps in a few years, my thighs will achieve epic status, but not right now.
In any case, after a few last instructions, I set out. The first few miles were along the streets of North Phoenix and I couldn't make a light to save my life. I hadn't really ever ridden in the area, so this was actually a good thing. Sometimes in urban riding, I fixate so much on the road and traffic, that I never bother to actually look at the scenery. Traffic lights give me an opportunity to do just that. I finally came to a bike path through a really beautiful park just along the highway. By this time, it was around 8:00 and though the sun was up and the cars were moving, it was still really quite scenic with many cactus and a few flowers starting to emerge. I then made my way to the canals where, for about 10 miles, I was treated to an amazing array of birds. There were some parrotish looking birds with bright green feathers and purple acccents, some plover-style birds and some others that looked a little like a long legged woodpecker. Not something I expected.
I passed a big amusement park in the Arabian style that made me think of rides when I was a little kid. The canals in Phoenix make for great riding with tunnels under most of the streets. It had rained very hard 2 nights before and there were some lingering puddles to splash through which was also fun. I finally turned onto 51st street and began the trek to more rural areas. There were some very nice neighborhoods in the next few miles; Phoenix definitely favors stucco over brick. I pulled into the first control at about 9:15 (32 miles) and bought some water.
The next section, Lake Pleasent Road and New River Road, were the most rural part of the ride. For miles, I really didn't see much in the way of buildings, just green desert. Yes, the desert is currently green. Every few years, Arizona gets lots of water, probably the result of El Nino. This year is turning out to be quite the wet one and I expect that there will be many flowers in the coming month or two. I dawdled a bit on this part just because the sun was out and I really was enjoying the scenery. I pulled into the RoadRunner Cafe just after noon, bought a coke at the bar and took off quickly.
The next few miles were a bit hillier than the previous ones. I passed through the town of New River and wound around quite a bit before hitting 74 and cruising for about 10 miles. At this point, I entered back into Scottsdale and turned onto Dynamite Road and beginning the ascent of 9 mile hill (okay the 5 mile side of it). Being from Minnesota, I don't get to do sustained climbs of more than a mile or two very often. This one was maybe 5%, but went on for about 5 miles before the Shell Station (control #4). At the Shell Station, I pondered food options, by this time it was about 1:30. Another cyclist showed up whom I had seen ascending the hill came in and said hello. Seeing my indecision, he piped up, "hey, you should try these" and pointed to some refrigerated hot tamales. "Wash it down with some of this Cactus - it's a great pick up". I must have been really low on blood sugar, because I agreed that this was a good idea. So much for trying something new - I took one bite, realized it was a bad idea and went back for a heath bar instead. The Cactus stuff was okay, but I have to say that water is even better.
Shortly afterwards, I was climbing the final steps to the descent of 9 mile hill. There was a spectacular view of the Rio Verde valley with a snow capped mountain in the distance. It was about 75 degrees, perfect riding weather. I had fun on that descent and was sad to see it go as I turned onto Forest Road. The next 10 miles were uneventful as I wound my way through Scottsdale. I hit the final Control at about 3:30 and headed up Palisades hill. At this point, things got interesting. I turned onto Shea Blvd for a 2 mile descent, but rush hour had apparently started because traffic was pretty thick. It's one thing to scream down a hill at 35 mph, it's quite another to do it with a bunch of cars going 50. Needless to say, I was happy to turn off.
As I completed the last 10 miles, I was amazed at the traffic. At the time, I kept thinking it must be rush hour. Only later did I find out that a major accident on the 101 had detoured almost all the traffic off the freeway onto my route. Mayo Blvd, normally deserted, was packed with cars. I did enjoy riding around the remnants of the Phoenix Open. Had I been there the previous day, it would certainly have been difficult to get around the people. As it was, there were just cleanup crews and a few detours for cars remaining. The traffic on Union Hills was also heavy and I was happy to finally see the Circle K at the finish. A total of 10:20 with 1:45 non-moving (the traffic lights were at least half an hour). Not my fastest, but considering the circumstances, a fine ride.
I won't get back for Susan's 400K in March, but I have to say that I have a good feeling about the Tombstone 600K in April.
I picked out Mike Sturgill's North Phoenix and Fountain Hills 200K as a good follow up ride to the 300K. It was listed as "flatish" and for the most part it was. This being my off-season, I didn't want to overdo it and my chest was hurting due to bruised ribs and boughts of coughing after the dust on the 300K. It turned out to be a great choice.
I met Mike at the community college/park and ride near the start. Mike is one of those guys that I admire and potentially say hi to at the beginning of a brevet. His plan is to do the Cascades without needing to turn his lights on. I, on the other hand, will likely be recharging mine each night. Perhaps in a few years, my thighs will achieve epic status, but not right now.
In any case, after a few last instructions, I set out. The first few miles were along the streets of North Phoenix and I couldn't make a light to save my life. I hadn't really ever ridden in the area, so this was actually a good thing. Sometimes in urban riding, I fixate so much on the road and traffic, that I never bother to actually look at the scenery. Traffic lights give me an opportunity to do just that. I finally came to a bike path through a really beautiful park just along the highway. By this time, it was around 8:00 and though the sun was up and the cars were moving, it was still really quite scenic with many cactus and a few flowers starting to emerge. I then made my way to the canals where, for about 10 miles, I was treated to an amazing array of birds. There were some parrotish looking birds with bright green feathers and purple acccents, some plover-style birds and some others that looked a little like a long legged woodpecker. Not something I expected.
I passed a big amusement park in the Arabian style that made me think of rides when I was a little kid. The canals in Phoenix make for great riding with tunnels under most of the streets. It had rained very hard 2 nights before and there were some lingering puddles to splash through which was also fun. I finally turned onto 51st street and began the trek to more rural areas. There were some very nice neighborhoods in the next few miles; Phoenix definitely favors stucco over brick. I pulled into the first control at about 9:15 (32 miles) and bought some water.
The next section, Lake Pleasent Road and New River Road, were the most rural part of the ride. For miles, I really didn't see much in the way of buildings, just green desert. Yes, the desert is currently green. Every few years, Arizona gets lots of water, probably the result of El Nino. This year is turning out to be quite the wet one and I expect that there will be many flowers in the coming month or two. I dawdled a bit on this part just because the sun was out and I really was enjoying the scenery. I pulled into the RoadRunner Cafe just after noon, bought a coke at the bar and took off quickly.
The next few miles were a bit hillier than the previous ones. I passed through the town of New River and wound around quite a bit before hitting 74 and cruising for about 10 miles. At this point, I entered back into Scottsdale and turned onto Dynamite Road and beginning the ascent of 9 mile hill (okay the 5 mile side of it). Being from Minnesota, I don't get to do sustained climbs of more than a mile or two very often. This one was maybe 5%, but went on for about 5 miles before the Shell Station (control #4). At the Shell Station, I pondered food options, by this time it was about 1:30. Another cyclist showed up whom I had seen ascending the hill came in and said hello. Seeing my indecision, he piped up, "hey, you should try these" and pointed to some refrigerated hot tamales. "Wash it down with some of this Cactus - it's a great pick up". I must have been really low on blood sugar, because I agreed that this was a good idea. So much for trying something new - I took one bite, realized it was a bad idea and went back for a heath bar instead. The Cactus stuff was okay, but I have to say that water is even better.
Shortly afterwards, I was climbing the final steps to the descent of 9 mile hill. There was a spectacular view of the Rio Verde valley with a snow capped mountain in the distance. It was about 75 degrees, perfect riding weather. I had fun on that descent and was sad to see it go as I turned onto Forest Road. The next 10 miles were uneventful as I wound my way through Scottsdale. I hit the final Control at about 3:30 and headed up Palisades hill. At this point, things got interesting. I turned onto Shea Blvd for a 2 mile descent, but rush hour had apparently started because traffic was pretty thick. It's one thing to scream down a hill at 35 mph, it's quite another to do it with a bunch of cars going 50. Needless to say, I was happy to turn off.
As I completed the last 10 miles, I was amazed at the traffic. At the time, I kept thinking it must be rush hour. Only later did I find out that a major accident on the 101 had detoured almost all the traffic off the freeway onto my route. Mayo Blvd, normally deserted, was packed with cars. I did enjoy riding around the remnants of the Phoenix Open. Had I been there the previous day, it would certainly have been difficult to get around the people. As it was, there were just cleanup crews and a few detours for cars remaining. The traffic on Union Hills was also heavy and I was happy to finally see the Circle K at the finish. A total of 10:20 with 1:45 non-moving (the traffic lights were at least half an hour). Not my fastest, but considering the circumstances, a fine ride.
I won't get back for Susan's 400K in March, but I have to say that I have a good feeling about the Tombstone 600K in April.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
A fine day for a 300K - Saguaro National Park
February 27th, 2010 was the day of another fine brevet by Susan Plonsky. This was a really challenging brevet on several fronts. First, I got lost getting there. I don't usually get lost, it just happened somehow. I'm blaming the rental car or perhaps it's just what happens when you drive around at 4:30 am looking for people in tights. Second, more serious, I had a chest contusion before I ever started the ride (an unfortuate accident 4 days before as I flew over my handlebars on ice). I distinctly remember reading in the RUSA handbook that the single most important thing to bring to a brevet is an unfailing desire to finish the ride. This one set a personal record for me, not because the weather was, shall we say, unpredicatable or because it's the first one I started late, but because it's the first one I have ever done where I had to make a real effort to take every breath. I now have a new appreciation for the amount of work my rib cage does during the course of the ride.
I will say that starting late really was a bonus in this case. Had I been on time, I would have missed a real treat of a ride with Eagle Eye Alan. He and another guy were also running a little late and when we started at 6:15, he discovered that his Schmidt hub wire was broken. He and I went back to the start for emergency repairs with Susan that took another 15 minutes. I have to say, going back was one of my best decisions of the day. If I had gone on, I might have been able to keep up with the other guy (whose name I don't remember), but I had a great time riding with Alan. It's very seldom that you run into someone who is just about evenly matched with you so that riding together is a pleasure for 190 miles. We both took turns fighting the wind, I got all kinds of information about the terrain we were riding through that I wouldn't have known. Just a great experience. So if Alan reads this, thanks for the ride.
When we finally got going, our first treat was a gorgeous sunrise heading out of Casa Grande. I think it's the combination of the mountains, the giant cactus and the exapansiveness of the land that makes desert sunrises so vast and majestic. It is simply one of those moving experiences that sets the tone for the day, like a big capital O at the beginning of a sentence. The two of us cruised at around 18-20 miles per hour in a crisp 48-50 degrees. All worries about starting late just faded away. We continued east until finally turning to the south on Highway 79, it was at this point that things turned interesting. A sign ahead read Oracle Junction 36 miles. So starts a very long hill, essentally 36 miles long but at only a 2-3% grade. Though I had noted in in the elevation profile, I hadn't really thought much of it considering the fact that there was only about 4,200 feet of total elevation on the ride. Being from roller country, I'm not nearly so used to sustained climbing. We were also climbing into a mounting headwind. If I hadn't looked at the profile and had Alan to reassure me that yes, we were going up, I would have gotten pretty depressed on this section. The kicker was the optical illusions of the road. Even though we were climbing, the road actually looked either flat or descending. After about 9 miles, we caught up with 2 other riders, whom I remembered from the 200K in January. Alan told me that hitting this hill too hard was a common mistake responsible for many a DNF over the years; I resolved to cut back a little after the contorl coming up. At Tom Mix Monument (about 12 miles into the hill), we chatted briefly. The sky was cloudy by this time and it was warming up, so we shed some layers and got back on the bike as quickly as possible. The ride organizers had a nice setup with a bike stand for repairs, food and water all waiting for us.
The next 24 miles were long ones. It's not very often that the low point of a brevet comes so early in the ride. There has been quite a bit of rain and the desert is starting to green up (a rare occurrance). Alan and I traded stories and he did a fabulous pull for the last few miles. The wind continuted to pick up. Finally, we made it to Oracle Junction. A sigh of relief was audible and it was like the whole ride started over, we both picked up in spirits. After a not-so-fast-because-of-the-headwind descent into the second control, we stopped at Walgreens for snacks, water, and a stretch. This was also my first informational control. I had read about them in the RUSA handbook, but hadn't used on before. We were successful in naming the business on the corner of the street. We'd gone 75 miles.
We finally rolled in at about 9:15. I wound up showing Susan my GPS tracks to prove we were on course. The third randonnneur (who had gone ahead) also vouched for us being on the right roads. I never got a chance to really say thanks - I'm always a little fried at the end of a ride.
This ride was really a great experience. It isn't every day I get to ride with someone the whole time. Most brevets in Minnesota, I am the only female and I see everyone at the start and then catch possible glimpses during the course of the ride. I like riding alone, but there is a really nice aspect to riding with someone else as well. As usual, Susan put on a great brevet. I can't wait for the Tombstone 600K. Just 7 short weeks away and the desert will probably be blooming.
When we finally got going, our first treat was a gorgeous sunrise heading out of Casa Grande. I think it's the combination of the mountains, the giant cactus and the exapansiveness of the land that makes desert sunrises so vast and majestic. It is simply one of those moving experiences that sets the tone for the day, like a big capital O at the beginning of a sentence. The two of us cruised at around 18-20 miles per hour in a crisp 48-50 degrees. All worries about starting late just faded away. We continued east until finally turning to the south on Highway 79, it was at this point that things turned interesting. A sign ahead read Oracle Junction 36 miles. So starts a very long hill, essentally 36 miles long but at only a 2-3% grade. Though I had noted in in the elevation profile, I hadn't really thought much of it considering the fact that there was only about 4,200 feet of total elevation on the ride. Being from roller country, I'm not nearly so used to sustained climbing. We were also climbing into a mounting headwind. If I hadn't looked at the profile and had Alan to reassure me that yes, we were going up, I would have gotten pretty depressed on this section. The kicker was the optical illusions of the road. Even though we were climbing, the road actually looked either flat or descending. After about 9 miles, we caught up with 2 other riders, whom I remembered from the 200K in January. Alan told me that hitting this hill too hard was a common mistake responsible for many a DNF over the years; I resolved to cut back a little after the contorl coming up. At Tom Mix Monument (about 12 miles into the hill), we chatted briefly. The sky was cloudy by this time and it was warming up, so we shed some layers and got back on the bike as quickly as possible. The ride organizers had a nice setup with a bike stand for repairs, food and water all waiting for us.
The next 24 miles were long ones. It's not very often that the low point of a brevet comes so early in the ride. There has been quite a bit of rain and the desert is starting to green up (a rare occurrance). Alan and I traded stories and he did a fabulous pull for the last few miles. The wind continuted to pick up. Finally, we made it to Oracle Junction. A sigh of relief was audible and it was like the whole ride started over, we both picked up in spirits. After a not-so-fast-because-of-the-headwind descent into the second control, we stopped at Walgreens for snacks, water, and a stretch. This was also my first informational control. I had read about them in the RUSA handbook, but hadn't used on before. We were successful in naming the business on the corner of the street. We'd gone 75 miles.
Parts of the next few miles I recongized from the Mt Lemmon ride in November. The next 20 miles or so were windy, but had lots of rollers and a very fun downhill on Tangerine. We then crossed underneth I-10 and turned onto Silverbell. This was the worst of the wind for the day with a combination of a headwind and some not-so-happy pavement. We went up a short hill called Rattlesnake Pass and joked about the fact that photographers on rides always wait to take picture of cyclists after they have spent hours ascending a pass and, bluntly, look like hell. I had a flat just before Gates Pass; Alan graciously helped me change it. More joking about his Yin (bad wires) and my Yang (bad tires). Then we ascended Gates Pass which is about 2 miles of fairly steep climbing (not the worst, but probably has some short segments into the 8-10% range). At the top, Alan texted his wife and I took some pictures; the view was spectacular Then a screaming, twisting descent down to the last manned control in the wind.
The first thing I noted about the descent, was the view of the valley below. I knew we would be almost entirely downhill from this point on with a tailwind now. But the wind was also kicking up a massive amount of dust. You could see dust billowing down in the valley like plumes of whipped cream. We met Susan for snacks, bottle filling and some last words. Then off for the big finale.
Even though the weather was supposed to have an ascending chance of rain at this point, the sun came out for the first time in hours and we got a real treat of a tailwind/descent on Sandario. I took some more pictures as we easily spun at about 25 mph. It's impressive when you ride at 25-30 mph and still don't feel any wind. We turned briefly on Marana Road and discovered just how powerful the wind was; as a crosswind, it nearly blew me over. We stopped at the Circle K for a bit of water and I put on a dust mask; I have mild asthma and I remembered the plumes of dust that were likely all around us. That turned out to really be a good move for me. Coughing with a chest contusion is exceedingly painful.
We turned north again and saw a beautiful sunset near Picacho Peak. The wind started dying a bit but we still cruised at around 18 mph. We stopped at a Dairy Queen at around 6 pm to put on reflective gear, turn on lights and make a final pit stop. We also picked up another randonneur for the ride back.
The last 25 miles had a full moon and all the trappings of a great night ride. We were very careful on our directions, between local knowlege, my GPS and some careful cue sheet reading, we didn't get lost. At least a couple of others apparently did and missed Eloy. Alan and I slowed up a bit and the other randonneur went ahead once we turned on Eleven Mile Corner. We then needed to find the color of a ribbon on a sign (informational control) at 11 Mile and 287. I can't figure out how we missed it. I swear I looked at every sign about 4 times, but we could see lighting on the horizon (the storm was finally on its way) so we didn't dawdle. I tried to remember as many other landmarks as I could and figured I had the tracks in my GPS as well.
We finally rolled in at about 9:15. I wound up showing Susan my GPS tracks to prove we were on course. The third randonnneur (who had gone ahead) also vouched for us being on the right roads. I never got a chance to really say thanks - I'm always a little fried at the end of a ride.
This ride was really a great experience. It isn't every day I get to ride with someone the whole time. Most brevets in Minnesota, I am the only female and I see everyone at the start and then catch possible glimpses during the course of the ride. I like riding alone, but there is a really nice aspect to riding with someone else as well. As usual, Susan put on a great brevet. I can't wait for the Tombstone 600K. Just 7 short weeks away and the desert will probably be blooming.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Dealing with "the-body-part-that-must-not-be-named"
There is no issue more talked about in cycling than this one (and we all know what it is). I set two challenges to myself. The first is informative, to describe the various problems and strategies associated with this most tender of parts and the second is linguistic, to never use the same euphemism twice.
There are serveral categories of posterior agony that I have experienced over my long history. The first I had to deal with hits most cyclists every spring when one has not been on a bike for a number of months or when they extend saddle time well over what they are used to. It's that dreaded feeling that instead of riding, you must certainly have been instead locked in a room with 1000 tiny gnomes beating on your pelvis with cold-iron hammers: the spring-ache, the gluteal impaction, the oh-my-god-my-*@#-is -killing-me sensation. Despite that fact that you can have many issues that are more serious, this one will almost certainly keep you off your bike if you let it. This particular issue kept IronK off a bike for almost 2 years. The second is the dreaded saddle sore or even worse an outbreak of them that will bring back any memories you might have of your days with diaper rash.
Spring-ache, for me, is generally the result of either being out-of-shape (after the winter) or from doing a ride that is more than about 25% longer than I am used to. My first and, in my humble opinion, the best way to minimize the issue in the spring time is to not quit riding in the fall. This doesn't mean to hammer your brains out all winter. It just means that you either leverage not so bad weather and learn to ride in sub-par conditions like cold or rain for brief periods of time or you ride indoors. Even if it is once a week, your derriere will thank you for it when spring comes and you are dying to pedal off into the great blue yonder. Base training in the winter will also help the rest of your body. In particular, I have found that core strength is almost as close to silver bullet as you can find for a variety of problems. You abdominal muscles are the ones that stabilize you on the bike, if they are very strong, you ride faster and more comfortably on both ends. Stability ball exercises, push ups, and planks of all shapes are really worthwhile in the off-season. If I did nothing else all winter, I'd do them.
Saying that you solve the out-of-shape problem, the next fact is that when it comes to brass tacks, the points at which your body comes in contact with the bicycle are the most common places to have problems. The sweet cheeks are the contact point with perhaps the highest amount of continuous weight applied while riding. There are forces of friction to deal with as well as the fact that it's a tender spot; you can run around barefoot on rough ground easily, imagine using even fine-grained sand paper for TP and you get the picture.
For me, getting the right saddle and getting it fit correctly were two processes that took a long time, but fixed the probelm.
Finding a saddle for riding mega-miles is both time consuming and can be expensive. I had the same saddle that came with my bike until I started riding over 80 miles. Up until that point (about 5-6 hours of riding), I could put up with just about anything. I've heard it said that any mistakes in fitting or equipment in the first 50 miles won't really come back to haunt you until about 150. I must have bought at least 4 saddles before settling into one I really liked for rides over 250 miles. When I say "really liked" it doesn't mean that I like sitting on it for fun either. Basically, there are 3 kinds of saddles:
The second really imporant part of the saddle is its position. You must have the fit perfect and be willing to change it over the course of a ride. What works at the start when you are fresh may need some adjustment after hours in the heat. First,the saddle must be the correct height. If it is too high, you will rock on it and the friction will become a problem. If it is too low, you will have added considerably to the already large weight on your glutes and wreck havoc on your knees. When the saddle is a perfect height for me, I feel as though I am suspended over the bike with each pedal stroke taking a little pressure off each side. I have also found through experimentation that I prefer a level saddle at the start, but at the end of about 200 miles, tilting the saddle just a tad downwards helps me to avoid rubbing when I am tired and my core isn't holding me in place as well.
One of my favorite tricks for ensuring that my saddle is in the right position during a long ride is to ask the person riding behind me to critique. After all, they have a far better view of your tokus than you do and millimeters count in the game of position. Also, pay attention to the knees, they are an early warning that something is wrong with the saddle. Too low and the fronts of my knees hurt, too high and the backs of my knees hurt. I have seen no less that 3 riders, including myself, completely fall apart because the saddle was millimeters too low. In almost every case, it's been due to slippage during a brevet or other really long ride. Rain, in particular, is very good at loosening connections on the bike. So is fresh chip-seal.
There are serveral categories of posterior agony that I have experienced over my long history. The first I had to deal with hits most cyclists every spring when one has not been on a bike for a number of months or when they extend saddle time well over what they are used to. It's that dreaded feeling that instead of riding, you must certainly have been instead locked in a room with 1000 tiny gnomes beating on your pelvis with cold-iron hammers: the spring-ache, the gluteal impaction, the oh-my-god-my-*@#-is -killing-me sensation. Despite that fact that you can have many issues that are more serious, this one will almost certainly keep you off your bike if you let it. This particular issue kept IronK off a bike for almost 2 years. The second is the dreaded saddle sore or even worse an outbreak of them that will bring back any memories you might have of your days with diaper rash.
Spring-ache, for me, is generally the result of either being out-of-shape (after the winter) or from doing a ride that is more than about 25% longer than I am used to. My first and, in my humble opinion, the best way to minimize the issue in the spring time is to not quit riding in the fall. This doesn't mean to hammer your brains out all winter. It just means that you either leverage not so bad weather and learn to ride in sub-par conditions like cold or rain for brief periods of time or you ride indoors. Even if it is once a week, your derriere will thank you for it when spring comes and you are dying to pedal off into the great blue yonder. Base training in the winter will also help the rest of your body. In particular, I have found that core strength is almost as close to silver bullet as you can find for a variety of problems. You abdominal muscles are the ones that stabilize you on the bike, if they are very strong, you ride faster and more comfortably on both ends. Stability ball exercises, push ups, and planks of all shapes are really worthwhile in the off-season. If I did nothing else all winter, I'd do them.
Saying that you solve the out-of-shape problem, the next fact is that when it comes to brass tacks, the points at which your body comes in contact with the bicycle are the most common places to have problems. The sweet cheeks are the contact point with perhaps the highest amount of continuous weight applied while riding. There are forces of friction to deal with as well as the fact that it's a tender spot; you can run around barefoot on rough ground easily, imagine using even fine-grained sand paper for TP and you get the picture.
For me, getting the right saddle and getting it fit correctly were two processes that took a long time, but fixed the probelm.
Finding a saddle for riding mega-miles is both time consuming and can be expensive. I had the same saddle that came with my bike until I started riding over 80 miles. Up until that point (about 5-6 hours of riding), I could put up with just about anything. I've heard it said that any mistakes in fitting or equipment in the first 50 miles won't really come back to haunt you until about 150. I must have bought at least 4 saddles before settling into one I really liked for rides over 250 miles. When I say "really liked" it doesn't mean that I like sitting on it for fun either. Basically, there are 3 kinds of saddles:
- Ass-Hatchets: These are generally the ones that are too narrow. From the rear, it looks like they might cleave your pelvis in two with a good bump.
- Butt Grinders: These are too big. You have so much in contact with then that they find ways of rubbing against everything.
- Ball-Busters: These have some problem with the way the saddle is shaped in the front. And no offense to male species but just because the female version of the family jewels is a bit smaller and doesn't have a flagpole makes it no less painful, even small diamonds are worth as much as big rubies.
The second really imporant part of the saddle is its position. You must have the fit perfect and be willing to change it over the course of a ride. What works at the start when you are fresh may need some adjustment after hours in the heat. First,the saddle must be the correct height. If it is too high, you will rock on it and the friction will become a problem. If it is too low, you will have added considerably to the already large weight on your glutes and wreck havoc on your knees. When the saddle is a perfect height for me, I feel as though I am suspended over the bike with each pedal stroke taking a little pressure off each side. I have also found through experimentation that I prefer a level saddle at the start, but at the end of about 200 miles, tilting the saddle just a tad downwards helps me to avoid rubbing when I am tired and my core isn't holding me in place as well.
One of my favorite tricks for ensuring that my saddle is in the right position during a long ride is to ask the person riding behind me to critique. After all, they have a far better view of your tokus than you do and millimeters count in the game of position. Also, pay attention to the knees, they are an early warning that something is wrong with the saddle. Too low and the fronts of my knees hurt, too high and the backs of my knees hurt. I have seen no less that 3 riders, including myself, completely fall apart because the saddle was millimeters too low. In almost every case, it's been due to slippage during a brevet or other really long ride. Rain, in particular, is very good at loosening connections on the bike. So is fresh chip-seal.
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