Cycling
The Perfect Ride
05 July 2011
I was
looking to suffer. For some reason, this cycling season I was
motivated to get better at climbing. Hills are simple: there they
are, now go up to the top on your bicycle. You either make it or
you don’t. The outcome is binary. But the variables constituting
each hill are infinite: length, grade, weather, road surface, as
well as the cyclist’s fitness, all blend into the individual
character of the particular climb.
We were on a family vacation in southwest Virginia. I had not scheduled any activities for the kids on the morning of the 4th of July. At 5:45 am I got out of bed at the hotel, gathered my gear, and drove to Emory & Henry College near Meadowview, VA. From a previous internet search I had set my sights on Hayter’s Gap, a nearby route over a ridge of the low mountains north of I-81. The weather was clearing after an early am shower and the temperature lingered about 68. After hydration and caffeination I set off.
Because of the holiday there was almost no traffic. I was passed by less than five cars on the out leg. I saw more birds than people. Even the dogs were still asleep-not a single bark. It was serenely quiet, just the sound of the pedals, the wind in my ears, my breathing. The route initially descended into the Holston River valley and when I crossed the bridge over the water I knew the warmup was over. The houses gradually disappeared, the woods closed in over the roadway, and the curves began. The higher I climbed, the slower I went, until the last cog on the cassette was reached. Every 20 to 50 yards the road curved away, around the corner and up. Always up. I prayed that each next curve would be “the one”-the one that disappeared over the top instead of revealing yet another stretch of up. I alternated sitting and standing out of the saddle. I chanted on successive revolutions of the right pedal, then the left, using the Jesus prayer, then the names of my children, then counting, and finally nothing, nothing except the turning.
I was tempted. Places where I could pull off the road beckoned. I came close to quitting. But my training to date was just enough to keep me aerobic at the turtle-like pace I was keeping up the climb. There was a small cabin on my left. I started to see more blue sky through the trees, and I knew I was close. But how close? I gave up hoping on the next curve, and began to just accept the effort for what it was. It had its own way, one that anticipation could not alter. And then, there was a sign-literally, a road sign marking the county line at the apex,
and the sunlight glistened on the downhill slope of the descent on the far side. I pulled over to the side of the road and my quivering legs gave thanks.
The descent was quite a thrill as well, since there were so many switchbacks and hairpins. I kept my hands on the brakes and by no means was it a TDF performance but I got to practice following a line through the curve, keeping my head up and sighting my way out of the turns. I took a leisurely pace back to my car and savored my small but discrete achievement in the ages-old story of man vs. nature-aided by carbon fiber, low gears, and good weather.
We were on a family vacation in southwest Virginia. I had not scheduled any activities for the kids on the morning of the 4th of July. At 5:45 am I got out of bed at the hotel, gathered my gear, and drove to Emory & Henry College near Meadowview, VA. From a previous internet search I had set my sights on Hayter’s Gap, a nearby route over a ridge of the low mountains north of I-81. The weather was clearing after an early am shower and the temperature lingered about 68. After hydration and caffeination I set off.
Because of the holiday there was almost no traffic. I was passed by less than five cars on the out leg. I saw more birds than people. Even the dogs were still asleep-not a single bark. It was serenely quiet, just the sound of the pedals, the wind in my ears, my breathing. The route initially descended into the Holston River valley and when I crossed the bridge over the water I knew the warmup was over. The houses gradually disappeared, the woods closed in over the roadway, and the curves began. The higher I climbed, the slower I went, until the last cog on the cassette was reached. Every 20 to 50 yards the road curved away, around the corner and up. Always up. I prayed that each next curve would be “the one”-the one that disappeared over the top instead of revealing yet another stretch of up. I alternated sitting and standing out of the saddle. I chanted on successive revolutions of the right pedal, then the left, using the Jesus prayer, then the names of my children, then counting, and finally nothing, nothing except the turning.
I was tempted. Places where I could pull off the road beckoned. I came close to quitting. But my training to date was just enough to keep me aerobic at the turtle-like pace I was keeping up the climb. There was a small cabin on my left. I started to see more blue sky through the trees, and I knew I was close. But how close? I gave up hoping on the next curve, and began to just accept the effort for what it was. It had its own way, one that anticipation could not alter. And then, there was a sign-literally, a road sign marking the county line at the apex,
and the sunlight glistened on the downhill slope of the descent on the far side. I pulled over to the side of the road and my quivering legs gave thanks.
The descent was quite a thrill as well, since there were so many switchbacks and hairpins. I kept my hands on the brakes and by no means was it a TDF performance but I got to practice following a line through the curve, keeping my head up and sighting my way out of the turns. I took a leisurely pace back to my car and savored my small but discrete achievement in the ages-old story of man vs. nature-aided by carbon fiber, low gears, and good weather.
Comments
The End of a Season
04 October 2010
At the
beginning of the cycling season, my riding buddy Rob and I decided
on a goal: we would finish the Jack N’ Back charity bike ride in
October. Well, we did. After doing several other rides together
this season, we both decided this one was the biggest, the best
organized, and the most satisfying to complete. For the sake of
brevity, I will make a list:
A few personal observations:
In summary, it was a great way to end a season of cycling in which I got fitter, learned more about my bike, achieved a goal, and had a lot of fun in the process. Please take a look at some of the photos in the gallery, too.
- Lots and lots of volunteers, probably hundreds, at rest stops, manning the wrenches, serving food, helping at registration, standing at turns, protecting us at intersections, clapping, encouraging, directing, and thanking us repeatedly for riding in this event.
- Excellent organization, from the luggage train segregated by bib number, twist ties supplied for the bike numbers, early packet pickup to reduce ride day congestion, perfect road markings, police stationed at all major intersections stopping traffic even 30 miles into the ride, etc.
- Enthusiasm of the volunteers and rest stop helpers.
- Great lunch stop: plenty of room, large cafeteria, enough bathrooms.
- Large number of riders on a long course-one was never alone on the road not in sight of another ride, a psychological comfort
- I have never seen so many sag wagons-seems like they passed me every 5-10 miles
- The Gatorade and water never ran out (has happened at other rides)
A few personal observations:
- I am glad I installed my new cassette with a larger big cog: though the hills were moderate, the longest one was at the end of the first day, a half mile before the finish
- I’m also glad I spent three or four hours tuning up the derailleurs on my bike before the ride:although I made several mistakes in the process, once I had it zeroed in, the shifting was flawless during the ride: no skips, rattles, or clunks, no lost chains even when I mistakenly tried to down shift off the small chainring, for example.
- Riding into the wind for 50+ miles is a real test of determination, mostly psychological I think, and the discomforting knowledge that the same power output into the pedals results in forward velocity at least 2-3 mph less.
- Riders come in all shapes, sizes and outfits. One elderly rider had computer speakers mounted under his saddle broadcasting classical symphonic music. One recumbent rider went the whole 75 miles using only his arms and a top-mounted crank arrangement. Two guys rode unicycles! (Somebody said those guys are so good on one wheel, please don’t give them two...) Obese women rode mountain bikes at ten mph. Skinny guys dressed in identical kits hammered past in large TDF-like mini-pelotons. Women in bright green stockings, women on completely pink bikes, women with fuschia flapping skirts and high-viz jerseys, all provided a little extra color.
In summary, it was a great way to end a season of cycling in which I got fitter, learned more about my bike, achieved a goal, and had a lot of fun in the process. Please take a look at some of the photos in the gallery, too.
Night Rider
22 September 2010
As the days grow shorter (autumnal
equinox today), the time available for riding on the bike
diminishes. Unless, of course, one is willing to ride in the dark.
Yesterday, after not being able to ride for several days due to
travel, work schedules, and laziness, I was determined to get in a
good circuit. Although I rushed to finish work early enough, I
still couldn’t get started until about 5:45 pm. I had a particular
route in mind which was really tough (subject of another post?) but
midway though the ride the dark descended quickly. That’s when I
busted out the night gear:
Plus, by that time in the ride I was on roads with very wide shoulders. I felt as if
was actually more visible than I am during the daytime. I returned to my starting point without mishap. As I finished the last couple of miles, I was on Lower Station Camp Creek Road
View Larger Map
which runs along a wide brook. White men have been using this route for over 200 years in this community. There were few lights, the nearly full moon was peeking behind the clouds, and the only sounds were from the evening bugs and the nearly silent drivetrain of my bicycle. I felt as if I was skimming along the surface of the earth, a silent observer of the nighttime gifts, exerted but only with pleasure, a grateful recipient of the moment’s graces.
- 2 watt Blaze headlight
- blinking red taillight
- reflective left arm band
- reflective mesh vest
- shoes with reflective heel tab
Plus, by that time in the ride I was on roads with very wide shoulders. I felt as if
was actually more visible than I am during the daytime. I returned to my starting point without mishap. As I finished the last couple of miles, I was on Lower Station Camp Creek Road
View Larger Map
which runs along a wide brook. White men have been using this route for over 200 years in this community. There were few lights, the nearly full moon was peeking behind the clouds, and the only sounds were from the evening bugs and the nearly silent drivetrain of my bicycle. I felt as if I was skimming along the surface of the earth, a silent observer of the nighttime gifts, exerted but only with pleasure, a grateful recipient of the moment’s graces.
Easy Rider
23 August 2010
Easy
Rider
After 100 km on the bike yesterday (see H.O.T. ride entry) I decided to ride again the day after, partly because I’ve read that’s a better recovery strategy than a rest day, and partly because I need to do back-to-back distance days in preparation for “Jack N’ Back” in October. But I also remember the observation that most amateur riders “ride too easy on hard days and too hard on easy days”. So I decided to ride really easy.
I went about 25 miles. It was near sunset when I began and the last 30 minutes were in the dark, but I had a bright headlight (Planet Bike ***) and blinking tailight, plus I wore a reflective vest. I never got out of the lower chainring except on descents. I consciously slowed my cadence and never pushed up any hill. It was a very enjoyable ride. There was no pressure, no calculation about pace or timing; indeed I felt as if I was just sauntering around the county. I sort of made up the route as I went, which made for even more serendipity. The frogs were singing, crickets chirping, traffic generally light (all the good people were in Sunday evening church meeting), weather pleasurable with the sun down and a gentle breeze.
We need to occasionally do less, not more, in our quest for improvement.
After 100 km on the bike yesterday (see H.O.T. ride entry) I decided to ride again the day after, partly because I’ve read that’s a better recovery strategy than a rest day, and partly because I need to do back-to-back distance days in preparation for “Jack N’ Back” in October. But I also remember the observation that most amateur riders “ride too easy on hard days and too hard on easy days”. So I decided to ride really easy.
I went about 25 miles. It was near sunset when I began and the last 30 minutes were in the dark, but I had a bright headlight (Planet Bike ***) and blinking tailight, plus I wore a reflective vest. I never got out of the lower chainring except on descents. I consciously slowed my cadence and never pushed up any hill. It was a very enjoyable ride. There was no pressure, no calculation about pace or timing; indeed I felt as if I was just sauntering around the county. I sort of made up the route as I went, which made for even more serendipity. The frogs were singing, crickets chirping, traffic generally light (all the good people were in Sunday evening church meeting), weather pleasurable with the sun down and a gentle breeze.
We need to occasionally do less, not more, in our quest for improvement.
H.O.T. Bike Ride
22 August 2010
The 20th
annual H.O.T. (Heart of Tennessee) ride sponsored by Murfreesboro
Outdoor and Bike (MOAB) was yesterday and I rode the 100 km “metric
century” with my friend Rob Lennon. Had to get up at 4 am just to
brew a cup of coffee, have a piece of toast, and get to Rob’s house
by 5 am. It was an hour to Lacassas Elementary school where the
event was staged. There was plenty of parking, efficient check-in,
more coffee and bagels, but not enough bathrooms for pre-race necessities (when
there’s a line in the men’s room you know there’s a problem). I was
looking for a last minute toilet when the race was starting and so
we were one of the last ones out of the parking lot. There were
probably 400 cyclists or so. The weather was cloudy and about 73
degrees, but the humidity was high.The first few miles were easy
flats on country roads, but like all these rides, when your in a
group of cyclist one tends to go faster so I had to consciously
limit my speed remembering that I usually make the mistake of going
out too fast. Even so, at about 15 miles, my legs felt a little
heavy and I thought “this is not a good sign at less than 1/4 of
the way to the finish”. There was a rest stop at mile 17 or so,
with a mass of cyclists and bikes and a too-long line for the water
and HEED (electrolyte drink).
We got back on our bikes and the little rolling hills started to increase. Our next landmark was the little town of Woodbury, TN, because we knew from the route map that the major hill of the ride started just outside of town. It started off easily enough, but the curving little swale just kept going and going and going. At one spot, a cyclist had dropped his bike on someone’s lawn and laid himself out on his back, gasping for air. I was too damn dyspneic myself to even ask him if he was OK (though I heard him reply in the affirmative to someone’s inquiry behind me). At the top, there were several “false summits” but at last we saw a van ahead laying out water bottles and ice and knew this had to be the apex. All told, we climbed about 500 feet in a little over 3 miles-the longest climb I’ve ever done.
After rehydrating and refilling our bottles, we took off down the descent on the other side of the ridge we had just climbed. What a glorious feeling, to have the wind whistling past your ears and your freewheel singing at over 40 mph! At the bottom of the hill there was a bone-jarring stretch of road for several miles with a terrible rough surface but the legs felt good and we averaged 18-19 mph along this stretch. Nest was the little town of Statesville and the next rest stop at the Grange. It included water, HEED, brownies, bananas, pastries, fruit, a large industrial-size fan blowing air in the shade, and a Tennessee Walking Horse! (One of the locals was prancing his steed up and down the road there and came over to see what all the commotion was about).
At this point in the ride (43 miles or so) I was feeling pretty good and the next several miles went well. Then, at about 55 miles, my legs started complaining enhanced by the topography which included seemingly an endless series of little rolling hills that individually weren’t bad but collectively took their toll. At one point, about five miles from the end, I heard another cyclist on the road next to me say “I am just hilled out”. It rained briefly which actually felt good and Rob went on ahead of me when I started to falter, but at last the school came into view and I pedaled into the parking lot.
There was a spaghetti dinner being served, but neither one of us wanted to eat, so we just got some cold water, changed into fresh clothes, and headed home. My final tally: 66.5 miles at an average pace (while riding) of 16.6 mph. Estimated calories burned: 2886 Estimated fluid intake during ride: 200+ fluid oz.
The web site: http://www.mborobike.com/ridecalendar/hot100.php
The route: http://ridewithgps.com/routes/107001
We got back on our bikes and the little rolling hills started to increase. Our next landmark was the little town of Woodbury, TN, because we knew from the route map that the major hill of the ride started just outside of town. It started off easily enough, but the curving little swale just kept going and going and going. At one spot, a cyclist had dropped his bike on someone’s lawn and laid himself out on his back, gasping for air. I was too damn dyspneic myself to even ask him if he was OK (though I heard him reply in the affirmative to someone’s inquiry behind me). At the top, there were several “false summits” but at last we saw a van ahead laying out water bottles and ice and knew this had to be the apex. All told, we climbed about 500 feet in a little over 3 miles-the longest climb I’ve ever done.
After rehydrating and refilling our bottles, we took off down the descent on the other side of the ridge we had just climbed. What a glorious feeling, to have the wind whistling past your ears and your freewheel singing at over 40 mph! At the bottom of the hill there was a bone-jarring stretch of road for several miles with a terrible rough surface but the legs felt good and we averaged 18-19 mph along this stretch. Nest was the little town of Statesville and the next rest stop at the Grange. It included water, HEED, brownies, bananas, pastries, fruit, a large industrial-size fan blowing air in the shade, and a Tennessee Walking Horse! (One of the locals was prancing his steed up and down the road there and came over to see what all the commotion was about).
At this point in the ride (43 miles or so) I was feeling pretty good and the next several miles went well. Then, at about 55 miles, my legs started complaining enhanced by the topography which included seemingly an endless series of little rolling hills that individually weren’t bad but collectively took their toll. At one point, about five miles from the end, I heard another cyclist on the road next to me say “I am just hilled out”. It rained briefly which actually felt good and Rob went on ahead of me when I started to falter, but at last the school came into view and I pedaled into the parking lot.
There was a spaghetti dinner being served, but neither one of us wanted to eat, so we just got some cold water, changed into fresh clothes, and headed home. My final tally: 66.5 miles at an average pace (while riding) of 16.6 mph. Estimated calories burned: 2886 Estimated fluid intake during ride: 200+ fluid oz.
The web site: http://www.mborobike.com/ridecalendar/hot100.php
The route: http://ridewithgps.com/routes/107001
Back in the Saddle
27 October 2008
Disabling the Ordinary
22 September 2008
My First big break
19 September 2008
Commuting Redux
19 August 2008
The Long Ride
05 August 2008
I finally did it. For weeks I had been
meaning to get up some weekend morning and go for a longer ride on
my bike. But laziness intruded, other pleasures beckoned, and I
procrastinated. This past Saturday I made myself get up and get out
on the road before 7 am to beat the Tennessee heat. My plan was to
start slowly in pace and then build up. After an hour on a course
of gently rolling hills, my average was about 16.3 mph-faster than
I had intended. So I slowed down and took a break, stopping by a
babbling stream in the shade, where I got off the bike, stretched,
and re-hydrated. Then I got back on the bike and felt
much better. The remainder of the ride was
pleasant (after one short but gut-wrenching steep hill) and I
returned home a bout 9 am after 28+ miles. I savored my sense of
accomplishment. My ride didn’t interfere with the rest of the
family’s activities because save one they were all still asleep
when I returned. So the lesson (learned again and again): start
your day with something you want to accomplish, get it done, move
on with your day. The key is to start early. Getting the
lazy butt out of bed is the biggest hurdle, but it’s worth
it.
Odd & Beautiful
05 August 2008
July 31
Some recent observations and sights while cyling:
* A flock of at least 25 turkey chicks scrambling behind Mom Turkey around a pond near Hendersonville
* A woman at 6 am walking one small dog and pushing a 1950s style baby carriage with her other small dog in the carriage!
* A beautiful sequence of irrigation sprinklers spewing misty spray by the side of the road
* A quick red brown fox carrying breakfast back to her kits in the den
* Large man in large truck pulls up next to me at a traffic light, leans out the window while we’re waiting and says “Yeah, you might as well bring your shavin’ kit to this light cuz’ it takes so long . . .”
Some recent observations and sights while cyling:
* A flock of at least 25 turkey chicks scrambling behind Mom Turkey around a pond near Hendersonville
* A woman at 6 am walking one small dog and pushing a 1950s style baby carriage with her other small dog in the carriage!
* A beautiful sequence of irrigation sprinklers spewing misty spray by the side of the road
* A quick red brown fox carrying breakfast back to her kits in the den
* Large man in large truck pulls up next to me at a traffic light, leans out the window while we’re waiting and says “Yeah, you might as well bring your shavin’ kit to this light cuz’ it takes so long . . .”
Commuting Woes
21 July 2008
July 21
Today I commuted on my bicycle to work for the first time. I had been meaning to try it for some time, but just finally got motivated enough to begin. The process required me to leave a change of clothes beforehand at my local office, the only one close enough to home (six miles) to make this commuting idea practical. Then I had to remember to take all of my little tools to work with me on the bike: beeper, cell phone, ink pens, patient census cards, eyeglasses, and hospital ID. I wondered how I would get all of them into my jersey pockets until I remembered my Camelbak hydration pack hanging up in the closet. After taking out the bladder, I had plenty of room for these items in a convenient on-my-back solution.
So I was ready. I figured it would take between 20 and 30 minutes to get to work, but I was worried about the traffic, since for most of my other bike rides I am going at non-peak hours, either earlier in the day before driving to work or on the weekend.
Thus I started. Traffic was manageable and I had a pretty good shoulder to ride on for most of the commute until I got to the last mile or so when the road narrowed. There weren't any problems, though, and I pulled up at my office building ready for the transition to the work day.
Unfortunately I had picked one of the hottest most humid Tennessee summer days to begin this venture. After I wheeled my bike into the office and parked it in the server closet, I went into the bathroom to change clothes. There the sweating began. When you're on the bike you don't notice sweat too much because the wind is flowing past. Once you stop, however, perspiration pours out. Did I mention that there wasn't any shower at the office? I thought I could just wash off with a wet cloth. I didn't smell too bad, but even after 20 minutes I was still soaked. The day was getting on, though, and I had to go to work. So I disgustingly pulled on my pants, shirt, socks and proceeded to work. At the very first nurses station, someone asked me what happened--that's when I realized the back of my shirt was soaked through with sweat. On I went, and it was an hour at least before my perspiration output returned to normal levels. I just had to keep the shirt on until it dried. The trip home in the afternoon was fine, but when I got home and just pulled off my jersey, socks and shoes before jumping into the pool with the kids.
Two days later I did it again, only it was cooler and I didn't sweat quite as much.
I felt great not driving for two work days out of the week. Now I just need to figure out a better system of hygiene!
Today I commuted on my bicycle to work for the first time. I had been meaning to try it for some time, but just finally got motivated enough to begin. The process required me to leave a change of clothes beforehand at my local office, the only one close enough to home (six miles) to make this commuting idea practical. Then I had to remember to take all of my little tools to work with me on the bike: beeper, cell phone, ink pens, patient census cards, eyeglasses, and hospital ID. I wondered how I would get all of them into my jersey pockets until I remembered my Camelbak hydration pack hanging up in the closet. After taking out the bladder, I had plenty of room for these items in a convenient on-my-back solution.
So I was ready. I figured it would take between 20 and 30 minutes to get to work, but I was worried about the traffic, since for most of my other bike rides I am going at non-peak hours, either earlier in the day before driving to work or on the weekend.
Thus I started. Traffic was manageable and I had a pretty good shoulder to ride on for most of the commute until I got to the last mile or so when the road narrowed. There weren't any problems, though, and I pulled up at my office building ready for the transition to the work day.
Unfortunately I had picked one of the hottest most humid Tennessee summer days to begin this venture. After I wheeled my bike into the office and parked it in the server closet, I went into the bathroom to change clothes. There the sweating began. When you're on the bike you don't notice sweat too much because the wind is flowing past. Once you stop, however, perspiration pours out. Did I mention that there wasn't any shower at the office? I thought I could just wash off with a wet cloth. I didn't smell too bad, but even after 20 minutes I was still soaked. The day was getting on, though, and I had to go to work. So I disgustingly pulled on my pants, shirt, socks and proceeded to work. At the very first nurses station, someone asked me what happened--that's when I realized the back of my shirt was soaked through with sweat. On I went, and it was an hour at least before my perspiration output returned to normal levels. I just had to keep the shirt on until it dried. The trip home in the afternoon was fine, but when I got home and just pulled off my jersey, socks and shoes before jumping into the pool with the kids.
Two days later I did it again, only it was cooler and I didn't sweat quite as much.
I felt great not driving for two work days out of the week. Now I just need to figure out a better system of hygiene!