commuterDude

Head games

2012-01-22T17:37:00.001-06:00

I stumbled upon another interesting tip while reading a popular ultra-distance blog, involving music, which I might try later this spring. Like the author of that piece (I'll link later), I often find myself with music drifting into and out-of my head in the middle of riding the odd 200km brevet, yet I'm hesitant to ride with headphones. The songs just pop into my head, and I've been okay with that. I've cataloged a great deal of these songs in the footnotes of most of my ride posts, as sometimes they subtly speak to my state of mind for that particular venture - but it never occurred to me to put them all into a single playlist. Now, for commutes and training rides it's still very doubtful that I'd use headphones.. even a single earbud. Traffic and such - in town - not a good idea in my book, though I'm sure a lot of folks do it every day and don't end up a statistic. However, when distances extend beyond 300km, later this spring - in those darker times when my mind is looking for ways to no longer participate in the task at hand - maybe it's advantageous to have those tunes that would pop into my head in better times ready to go? Maybe it'd be a clever trick to get through those tougher overnight hours, or when emotions run south for an hour here or there after fatigue sets in. Hard to tell -- but an iPod shuffle takes up very little space, after all. While I think this is definitely a terrific plan for the PA system strapped to the front of the RAAM support vehicle, off in some distant future, time will tell if I join the earbud-club on the next 600k. Still on the fence. However, personal squeamishness aside, I suppose it is indeed one more item for the mental toolkit towards randonneuring success... just to be used with a grain of caution, of course.

Carry on!

Post-script: Reviewing my personal playlist, I struggled with omitting certain songs and came up with a way to get around the hesitation to include them: if you're as musucally ecclectic as I profess to be, it's often very confusing as to WHY certain songs (that, in popular company, I'd probably admit to "hating") pop into my head while on long rides. I've found it best not to limit yourself here. Add it to the playlist. It's a very special place that randonneuring takes your mind - hours in the saddle, mindless pedalling, endorphins, nutritional peaks and valleys, and mental wandering...and of the thousands of songs I've listened to and called "favorite", it's weird what actually ends up repeating in my brain sometimes. Upon logging post-ride notes it's often the reaction of, "why was it THAT song???"

It may be your subconscious' way of telling you that you really DON'T "hate that song". Perhaps there's a certain rhythm, a chord change, a specific lyric that is relevant... and you have to "suffer" through the first half of it to get there. 'Come into my Life' by Robert Plant comes to mind... where my first instinct is to skip the track, but six minutes later I remember why I love it. Let it happen, don't hesitate to include it - even if in certain circles you'd be ridiculed for it. There is no shame in music. Coming from a childhood upbringing that included ABBA to Zappa and quite literally dang-near everything in between, there is little reason for me to enjoy listening to overplayed Top40 tripe like Katy Perry or Breathe Carolina ... but I do anyways. I have no wonders about HOW my tastes got so varied to begin with - I'm very glad they are: thanks, Mom & Dad. When it doubt, just go with it.

If you employ the above method of reverting to an earbud during hour 21 of a 600km epic, and "that song you hate" comes on, you will grumble, you will laugh, and then you will sing along.... but, most importantly, you won't be giving a moments thought to the saddle sores and aching legs you were trying to forget in the first place.

A call to action - yes, even here.

2012-01-18T09:32:00.001-06:00

I won't spend a lot of time on this - we'll return to regular programming with the very next post.

However, I think this deserves the space.

I urge all of you to take action on any of the myriad sites that offer petitions or conduits to contact congress and the house on the PIPA / SOPA issue.

Do it today, sign a petition.

Call your local representative.

Email them.

Do something, though, if you feel strongly about this - for OR against.

Visit this site, today.

Thank you.

Dodging the bullet

2012-01-16T12:26:00.001-06:00

Record warmth for January, it seems -- if only on average... it's been unseasonably warm for weeks at a time now, with only a single, minor snow event since the year began. I was a "good boy" and rolled the dice on a permanent date that was well outside the view of weather forecasts and then held my fingers crossed for three weeks. Amazingly, though it was chillier than I'd have liked, we pulled it off. In the 48 hours leading up to the ride start the temperature went from nearly 60 degrees, down into the teens, snow, finally rebounding back up into the 40's. Talk about dodging the bullet. As I sit to write out some scattered notes from the road, it has already been back in the 60's again. A very weird January for Kansas.

It was neat and appropriate, however, seeing just a tiny bit of snow here and there on the roadsides as we made our way out of night's darkness and into a fresh mid-winter morning. You may notice the "we"... and not the royal version this time: I was not alone. Another weird experience for January! Taking advantage of the relatively warmer climes, I was host to four other riders on this voyage - a rare treat. Alex S., Gary McD, Terry B. came out to share the experience, along with Randy R. whom we bumped into in Ottawa while out for a day of exploring on his old steel steed. While I've attended a couple of group rides here and there over the fall months, including a great ride out to the Louisburg Cider Mill for New Year's Eve, I hadn't enjoyed company on a long ride since July. Although, I have to say my brain certainly isn't used to having company... I still caught myself staring off at the road and keeping my thoughts largely to myself, instead of striking up conversations - however, as cycling goes I think everyone follows roughly the same playbook: there isn't a tentative feeling of needing to fill the void with words "just because". Sometimes just having another person on a bike next to you is plenty, and I think everyone "gets it". I like that, even though it's taken me a while to get there myself without feeling like I'm being rude.

The whole ride was almost for naught. A sharp pair of eyes caught the fact that the first controls register computer was off by about 16 minutes, producing our first receipt with a time-stamp of 6:47am... something that, while explainable and possibly verifiable later, would have effectively rendered our permanent ride 'void' on paper. No jumping the gun in randonneuring! Instead, we hung out, chatted, and this gave a little amount of time to run back to the cars and drop off a few layers - as the temperature was 12 degrees warmer than forecast! Things have a way of working out - and though we knew we were "wasting time", we waited, got a good receipt, and rolled off into the morning air together. This is precisely what the 1-hour first control buffer is for, I suppose. While part of me was anxious that we were already "behind", I also knew that stiff winds and hills awaited - and there was really no reason to be in a hurry.

Wild temperature swings and anomalously warm spells in winter usually mean "wind", and that was certainly the case. We'd be battling the wind heading west for most of the first half of the ride - but the breaks from it resulted in unexpected tailwind triumphs on the southbound sections. We made our way past Shawnee Mission Park, up and down sweeping hills over some terrific scenery, which is normally obscured by darkness because of earlier start times. Today, the sunrise wasn't far behind our departure - another tidbit my brain wasn't used to. I suppose I've had my fair share of night-time training over the last few months - Back in November I didn't see the sun until I was 50 miles deep. This time out, we barely needed to have our taillights on for 30 minutes. Not bad. What was better was being able to see what was normally hidden on this route - the Princeton Roundabout. It skirts western Shawnee, KS., heads out towards Desoto, Clearview City and the old Sunflower Army Ammunition Plant and its signature quadruple watertowers, dances with state route 10 here and there (in places I think we are actually on the old highway alignment), and out to Eudora for the first control. The Cedar Creek section is especially mystical: we dive down into a valley that contains several small branches of the Kansas River, and the resulting terrain is otherworldly compared to the usual vast fields and cropland west of the KC metro. Huddled in the shadow of huge outcroppings and deep into patches of forest, the creeks rippling along nearby, its easy to let myself get transported off to rural places I've only imagined of. Rustic houses, dilapidated barns scattered about, the road twisting and turning - following the river instead of the grid - long morning shadows creating an interplay of flashing sunshine between bare-branched trees, foraging animals scurrying about, birds at play... and a few cyclists silently taking it all in, gradually exiting the area in timeless elegance across an old truss bridge. Picture postcard mastery.

Sidebar: even if you have to drive there to see it, go see that bridge before it is gone. The county has been holding true to a long-standing 50-year bridge replacement plan for the entire area, and the last decade has seen many of these cool, character-rich bridges replaced with soulless, modern concrete decks. The Norman Rockwell-esqe images of rural America are beginning to fade into obscurity as civil engineering firms rush to rehabilitate crumbling infrastructure. Coming across one of these bridges on a long bike ride is one of the things that make long distance cycling worthwhile - and they are becoming increasingly rare. This bridge (link above) is literally one of the last ones open to traffic in Johnson County. If you are planning a bike ride of any length, the Bridgehunter website is an excellent way to find these unique structures and include them in your route plan.

We rejoin our riders emerging from Eudora refueled and ready for the next stage. The sun is getting higher in the sky, and the wind is finally favorable. Alex, ever the strong rider, is opening a big gap with the strong tailwind - and before long he's WAY up the road. Spurred on by having a target up the road I can't help but push my own pace to the limits - and, foolishly riding outside myself, I am eating up the road with a smile. Along with spirited climbing over the hills leading out of the Cedar Creek valley, I am beginning to cut into my reserves far to early... typical, and at the time I don't even realize my mounting mistakes. While there is one thing to be said for training by chasing stronger riders, my brain is excited about riding with others too much to care about the consequences.

I burn a fair amount of reserves, and don't take in nearly enough calories for the return to a westerly direction at Douglas County highway 460, where the wind returns with a mighty slap to the face. Pace is reduced to a crawl, and at times its a lot to ask to even maintain double-digit speeds. Nuts. Absolutely nothing to block the gale out here. Head down, I start to shove out the pace. Vinland arrives, and I take a moment to take in the old church and some of the stone foundation buildings before turning south again to enjoy the tailwind... which, "strangely", this time isn't as enjoyable. Not as much push remaining... wonder why THAT is? (ha) Alas, I still have some climbing left in the legs for the grunter of Baldwin Pass that awaits. I manage to make a good personal showing up the climb - possibly the best and most controlled I've ever climbed the beast, keeping breathing and cadence in check... so, while I still have something to learn in the mental control department when it comes to riding with other people, I'm pleased with how things have progressed over the months.

Baldwin City, and control #2. The group comes together again within minutes, and we all do our control routines and mount back up for the next leg. Thankfully, we're still to be heading south for many miles to come, so the NW wind will be our friend for a few hours more. Whew... Even while I stuffed another Powerbar Harvest into my gut, it wasn't enough by a longshot. The tailwind would continue to provide the illusion of energy, despite the protest from my gut. Poor food choices the evening before had also caught up, but I was focused ... get to the halfway, and things will improve.

Alex, Terry and Gary were pictures of pacing and control, while I yo-yo'd a bit here and there on Ohio and Tennessee roads before finally arriving at K-68 for the final push west into the increasingly strong cross/headwind. I think I mentioned this last month... and I have the same opinion today... I don't like this section of road. Not. One. Bit. Alas, with more riders on the shoulder this time at least traffic has more "surface area" of warning to our presence. Bright yellow vests, triangles, and trailing sunlight make us very visible - but, the tiny allotment of shoulder is a constant reminder of how lucky we are with each passing truck and car. It's certainly not the rural connector highway it was a decade ago.

Ottawa, and the welcome sight of the Casey's there - where Alex and I stop for resupply and restroom. Surprise, there's Randy R., out for a day's ride, and we welcome him to tag along for a bit. While I was quick to complain about the temperatures, I had to remind myself that they were still above normal (!), and everyone was out riding today - so, the more the merrier! Always a treat to stumble upon someone that happens to be headed the same way you are. We mount back up and head towards the next control at Princeton, KS. a few miles south. While this section is also a major highway corridor, the shoulder is nice and wide with well-made and thoughtful rumble strips. Much better... and still a slight tailwind to help. I remember this section from doing the route in July, and the fact that it trends uphill almost the entire way to Princeton. With Alex still fresh and fueled, and me still trying to stay latched to his wheel, I begin to burn through the rest of my reserves - and find myself seldom reaching to the back pockets to put the energy back. Uh-oh...

We reach Princeton to find Terry and Gary (thanks again to the local Ottawa resident that indicated he'd seen cyclists dressed like us heading south, which prompted our departure from the Casey's) hanging out and taking a much-deserved rest. At this point, I'm a little dazed. I take a full four laps of the c-store and for some reason I can't find ANYTHING that looks appetizing - even though I need food. The mild hassle of being a vegetarian jumps up to bite me, as the pizza smells really good -- but it's all with meat. Gads... I finally default to just grabbing something random and buying it, just to keep moving. While the rest of the group has been smart, and has stayed consistent, my follies have caught up. I'm supposed to be the experienced one here, yet the fun of trying to catch Alex and waging personal war on the headwinds has put me into rookie-mistake land. Nobody's fault but my own, the only thing to do is try and rebuild. While the mental toughness training that comes from riding 200k after 200k alone, there is still a need to remind myself that personal pacing is of the utmost importance when I get with a group. Even when he's slow, Alex is fast... and me trying to work on speed in January is foolish, yet, there I was.

In a daze I made a few decisions about clothing, packed a layer onto the rear rack, and made my way back out onto the road. Gary and Terry had left a dozen minutes or so earlier, on the notion that we'd catch them up, and Alex left a little bit after them. It was me and Randy now, and more importantly it was me beginning to admit that I had a problem. My pace began to slip, then my mind... I announced my condition, and shortly after was unable to maintain my speed. John Brown highway spread out before me, there was a slight tailwind... but, there was nothing in the legs but lead. I allowed myself to be upset about it for a couple minutes, then proceeded to engage on-the-road-recovery-plan Alpha. Watch the clock... this will only last fifteen minutes: drink every five... and start eating. You have back-pockets full of rations, and you haven't touched hardly any!!! Get to it... but be careful. I start to slowly feed the giant hole growing in my gut... The last fig newton from the START... and Hammer stuff... every few minutes, just chew and swallow. I watch patiently as Randy advances up the road... then, on the horizon I see yellow safety vests... and it feels like I'll never reach them. Patience... five minutes pass, then ten... a hill... a water tower... Texas Road... a 4-way stop... five more minutes... more food... drink... and the push slowly returns. The problem with this is that there is no resting now: having pushed to the brink, I will spend the rest of the ride putting calories in nearly as fast as my body uses them. My stomach growls furiously as soon as I'm finished swallowing the last bite of whatever is in my mouth... and so it will be for the last half of the ride. As hard as it is to recover from a near-bonk ON the bike, it is possible... but the key is not getting there in the first place. Keeping in mind that it's far better to keep moving slow than not to move at all, my cadence is in the gutter and my muscles are paying the price - but, I'm moving down the road. Chin up.... finally, even though it was only minutes, I begin to reel the group back in - and eventually we're all together again, just inside the Osawatomie city limits.

We stop together at the Casey's there, refuel and rest a bit - and the mental recovery for me still isn't quite complete: with all the rushing around for food and restroom, I forget to refill my bottles before leaving the c-store. Thankfully, I'd end up having enough to make it to Paola and the next control, but literally to the last sip. Ugh. "Get it together, 'dude!", I scold myself. I feel better leaving Osawatomie than I had leaving Princeton - but not quite 100%. I pull the group out of town, over a group of cool bridges over various creeks and rivers - startling a deer with my loose rendition of some random Elvis tunes that make it past my lips, as my mood recovers. The pace isn't epic - but it's all I've got. Not even a train flyby to cheer me up today... but, I'm still with a group, and it's a great feeling - and turning into a great day. The harrowing feeling of turning north into a waiting headwind for the entire last leg of the ride is held at arms length... the wind, quietly to myself, isn't THAT bad... the sun is out, there are birds heard nearby, and though content to leave nearly everything on despite the warmer temps, I still unzip a little as we turn from north to east in direction.

The group breaks up a little again as my legs remind me that we're not fully "back" yet - but no matter... even the horn of a local attempting to remind us who's road this was (right) can't get me down, but I'm already dreaming of the next stopping point. We make Paola and the next Casey's in good time - refuel, refill bottles (!), and check in. Old KC Road is checked off, and Alex's consistency shows as he and Randy enjoy the day in full stride -- strong riders, both. I, learning my lesson, maintain a sustainable pace and take in the scenery, chat a bit with Gary, and we eventually sorta spread out into our own little realms as we clear Hillsdale and advance towards Spring Hill. I lose track of Randy, as he peels off for home somewhere in here, and Alex and I regroup at the Casey's store at the north end of town. Another quick refuel here, and discussions about my condition. Alex is a class act... a super strong rider, content to hammer it out at the front, he encourages me, gives a few pointers to which I am always open (be not fooled: whether it's your 120th brevet, or 4th, there is always something to learn - always listen). Cycling 101... and it's something I perhaps needed to hear: keeping my cadence up. Part of my riding style falls back to my days of riding fixed gear - my natural cadence is probably somewhere in the 60-70 range... and that, combined with my caloric shortcomings, was resulting in fatigue and inability to push. Had I actually been ON a fixed gear today, I might have suffered more... who knows... but now, to get "back in the game" and finish strong, I needed to rev it up a little. Long story short, it worked. Despite Alex's promise to finish together, no matter my condition, my refueling and conscious effort to keep the cadence higher resulted in him not having to worry about slowing down and waiting for me.

The last 20 miles were stellar for me, considering. Alex could have, at any time I'm sure, jumped off the front and finished more quickly -- but he stayed with me. I adopted a plan to continue through the rest of my rations and put them IN my body instead of carrying them around in my pockets. I drank every 5 minutes, ate every 15... and combined with the cadence drills, I managed to stay with Alex and not limp along like I might have had I been solo... and, to boot, we managed to work our way through Olathe and then into Shawnee, finally catching sight of Gary and Terry up the road on Renner Blvd. It looked like we might all finish as a group after all! Maybe there's something to this whole "90-100 RPM bologna", I thought to myself... (doy, science has proven this is where cyclists are most efficient, yet I still fall into the gear-masher camp more often than not). Post-ride.... surprise, surprise, my joints aren't as sore, and I don't feel destroyed. Hmm. Interesting. Thanks, Alex, for reminding me of this basic endurance cycling tip, and helping keep me motivated. A true class act, even as I suggested back on Ridgeview Road "if you happen to get up the road away from me....", he interrupts... "no, no, we finish together..." - and so we did.

We caught up to Gary near 95th Street on Renner, just short of making the green light that Terry advanced up the road through, and stayed roughly together through the carnival of roundabouts prior to 87th Street, to finally stop there at a red light and witness a terrific sunset in the making over our left shoulders. Not bad at all... with the trials of the wind, and my personal issues, to finish as a group, on a winter ride, without freezing to death, and without hardly needing to worry about turning the lights on at the end... not a bad showing at all! Figuring in the delay at the first control due to the clock being off, we nearly completed the thing inside ten hours - which is great! Whether it had taken hours more, I don't care... because I finished it with friends, on what had turned out to be a great day. Mixed feelings that I might have about the mid-ride challenges aside, all in all - a success for January, and learned a few things about myself ... even if the group-ride-forget-everything factor that jumps up on me occasionally is something you'd think I'd have squared away by now. Proof that there is indeed always something to learn, even if it's RE-learning. We all dodged a bullet, weather-wise... and I was lucky enough to have a strong rider like Alex nearby when I needed him, dodging a personal bullet. I probably would have still finished, but it wouldn't have been with style and resulting smile, that's for sure.

Many thanks to Alex, Gary, Terry and Randy for sharing the ride!

Songs in my head:

There weren't many today... but, interestingly they were loudest when my stomach and ability to push were lowest:

Adele - Someone Like You <- popular radio tripe, perhaps - but this girl can sing, don't care who you are.

Ramblin' Man - Allman Brothers <- the foundry of the modern jam-band, nobody jams and runs riffs like these guys, IMHO.

The Big Bang Theory - The Bare-Naked Ladies <-- after watching a DVR marathon of this show, it doesn't take long for the theme song to take hold... and I honestly, in my own little geeky way, can't think of someplace I'd rather find myself than at Comic-Con '10 when this happened. As a BNL fan and a BBT fan, how freakin' cool would this have been???

I know there were others... but they were lost somehow between then and now...

So, that's all folks!

See you in February!

Over the hump

2012-01-14T18:58:00.001-06:00

Officially completed 200k #7 this evening... so, one step closer, and past halfway... feels good, but brain is a little scrambled: a tough day, conditions-wise, and compounded by some personal mistakes. They can't all go perfectly, right? More to come, as usual --- good to be finished... time for food, and rest. Stay tuned...

Even more winter kit considerations

2012-01-07T16:56:00.001-06:00

Even though it's been unseasonably warm here, I'm still preparing myself and gear for more "winter-like" riding - which is sure to come.
The process is reminding me of some things I've read lately, some other things discovered along the way, that bear passing along.
I touched on this recently in a post on preparing for winter riding, so here's a few additions:

While there are lots of ways around the problem, I personally have had issues on occasion trying to use CO2 inflators when it's colder out, specifically when it gets below freezing. Results may vary, and simply warming them up in a back pocket can solve the issue - but, for a lot more reasons than just "cold", I use a frame pump almost exclusively. I do keep a couple inflators in the seat bag to get moving quicker when commuting - but for brevets I don't like the idea of running out of air... and it has happened to me before. If you run CO2 exclusively, and there's nothing wrong with that - don't get me wrong - you might want to carry along a small, "real" pump in the winter: frame, bottle-cage style, or pocket-sized... but something that can get you moving again on that especially challenging day. There are even some clever models that are designed to do both - and while I haven't tried one of them specifically, it's a slick idea.

However, even "real" pumps have their problems . (I keep putting "real" in quotes, because the only real pump is a FLOOR pump... and we're not carrying those on rides, right?)

So, yes: even pumps can have issues in the cold: from the Bike Hacks blog, this post is worth a look. The pump in the post looks a lot like mine, possibly a Blackburn... maybe a Topeak. In most cases, your local shop may (call ahead) have a small-parts kit supplied by these manufacturers to support quick warranty claims. Take advantage of this, and offer to pay for the small bits it if you don't REALLY need it. But, replacement seals, o-rings, pumphead caps for your model are good things to have spares of... they weigh very little and can be stashed in a seatbag kit with ease. You may never need them, but it's nice when they're there! On the subject of air, another thing I keep in the seat bag is a Presta-to-Schrader adapter for things like air compressors at gas stations. While not recommended unless you're careful (for small volume road tires), at least you have a lot of different ways to put air back into a tube. This is all part of the mantra of successful commuting or randonneuring: preventing that "come get me" phone call. Redundancy is good...

Of course, if we're talking about air we're talking about the other "F word", and while you may be adept at wrestling a tire on and off a rim when it's warm outside, making quick work of roadside repairs is paramount in colder temperatures. You'll want to make things easy on yourself, and your hands. Ever notice that working on anything in the cold makes things like screwdrivers slipping, pliers pinching, bumping your knuckles against something hard... the cold seems to make it all hurt more, right? Part of avoiding frustration, do-overs, and pinched fingers involves the right tire lever. There are many different tire levers available, but the mechanic's choice has long been the Quik Stik. Probably muttered just as often as "where's my 5mm Allen wrench?" is "who took my Quik Stik?". Better than three of any other lever, in my opinion, the Quik Stik is gold. Doesn't mar rims, doesn't pinch tubes, great leverage, super strong, light, fast, simple. Get one. Get two: one for home, one for the seat-bag. Seatbag too short for it? Trim down the handle, and take it along. ANY leverage is good on the roadside in the cold. Don't fumble with the usual three sub-par levers... get ONE good one. The link is to Amazon, but I know a good local shop that carries these by the bucket in a variety of colors.

Reach that cycling mileage goal in 2011? Awesome! Congrats! Your cyclo'puter is probably exhausted, though... if your display is dimming lately (like mine) it's a good time to consider new batteries before your next big ride. Sure, sure, not a deal killer -- if you're commuting home and the computer dies the world will still turn on its axis. However, in the miles-to-next-turn world of randonneuring, it could be a big deal - especially on an unfamiliar route. As a backup plan here, wear a wristwatch. If nothing else, you'll know if you're inside the time limits to the next control, you can generally gauge your personal average speed and make an educated guess as to how far you've ridden between turns, and you can even use it for direction finding if the sun is out. Phones these days are pretty "smart", and you can probably grab an "app for that" in a pinch... but, I'd rather save my phone battery for when I truly need it. Of course, if you're running a new-fangled GPS computer of some sort, none of this is relevant - but I still prefer getting 12 months from a battery, rather than 12 hours.

Bonk rations. I always carry an extra energy gel in my seatbag. You never know when you might need a little pick-me-up or boost if you run out of food or fumble your pocket rations onto the highway. Like anything else in the seatbag I don't usually have to resort to using it, so when I checked my seat bag contents last month I found it to be reallly expired... well, yeah, it wouldn't have killed me, but it would have been a little thick and gross at best. So, this is a good time to rotate your rations! Next time you hit the shop for resupply, by an extra pack of a flavor you love, stash it in your seatbag, and forget about it. When that c-store that's "always open" is suddenly closed on a long ride, you'll be glad you did. Better? Stash two: one for your riding buddy. A good ride-guide will show you a great road and a cool scenic overlook... a master ride-guide will surprise you with a snack when you unexpectedly run out.

Riding master you will become... yesss... </Yoda>

I also mentioned "sanity savers" in that other post - something that can make riding, mentally, easier when the distances extend. Keeping cable housings from rattling against one another, keeping seatbag contents silent, keeping your computer itself from jiggling around in its own mount all come to mind. Recently I also performed a few other sanity-saving measures: A VERY small amount of grease applied between the tops of your shoes and the underside of the Velcro straps that fasten them closed... or ratchet straps, what-have-you. It's amazing how noisy shoes can get when pedaling up a hill. A good shoe polish can accomplish the same thing if you have real leather... but most shoes are some kind of synthetic these days. This keeps the places where parts of the shoe meet from binding and "sqw-creaking" under loads.

Keep your cleats "wet" also: Phil Wood grease is still my preference for just about anything bike-related - (except the chain) - it just works, and it stays put. Less can be more, as you don't want to replace little squeaks with a gloppy mess. Small amounts under the "nose" of your cleats, or underneath the pedal bindings where the cleats will click in can help keep things silent and smooth. Sometimes noises pop up while already riding, like after getting caught in a considerable rain-shower. An effective method that works when cleat noises materialize out on the road: lip-balm. It's waxy, it's cheap, it stays put. It's great to take along for your lips in winter anyways, so if you have some in your pack, roll out some excess from the familiar, tiny tube and remove a glob with your finger... apply to the cleat where it meets the pedal, or, to the pedal directly - either way, the annoying cleat noises will soon be gone. While modern, 3-bolt, Look and Shimano plastic road cleats have been updated with high PTFE content at these interfaces, all-metal SPD cleats can still get noisy.

Disclaimer: Grease cleats with caution and at your own risk. You should be pretty familiar with clipless pedal entry and engagement before you go smearing slippery stuff all over your pedals: less is more, even if it guarantees a need for reapplication later. Limit application to the underside of the pedal bindings, not the upper surfaces. You absolutely don't want to make the bottoms of your shoes or the upper surfaces of your pedals slippery to the point of danger. This is especially risky when departing from a traffic light -- sometimes, even after years of use, I sometimes don't QUITE get clipped in... instead of trying to feel around for engagement while coasting across an intersection, I just pedal lightly to get across the intersection and out of traffic, and worry about fully clipping in once across. Take care not to get grease or even lip balm on the tread of your shoes, the pedal body, or the bottom surface of the cleat which doesn't actually contact the pedal. Clip in securely before giving it the beans, lest you slip and take a veneer of your shin.

These tips aren't only handy for winter riding - this is just a good time of year to go through your stuff.

I hope you found something useful here!

Now...dress warm... go ride! Enjoy!

Unbelievable weather

2012-01-05T10:59:00.001-06:00

While I'm sure by posting this I'm looking weather-death in the face and spitting, I simply can't believe the weather we've been having lately here in eastern Kansas. It's making me a little uneasy heading into yet another weekend where temperatures are set nearly 20 degrees above normal for this time of year -- and strangely, it's not that windy... which is usually a partner to unseasonable temps in this part of the country. I keep waiting for winters "other shoe" to drop. Diving into weather-geek mode for a moment - despite the low sun angle and the shorter period of daylight, we're looking at mid-60's today. In January. In Kansas. That's 30 degrees above normal. I mean ... I can't remember the last time...(which is why NOAA has climate data, so I don't HAVE to remember). Checking climatalogical data, the record for this date was set at 68ºF in 1956... and we have a slim chance of beating that today. Shorts and short sleeves in January for the commute home?

As much as I like to say "back in aught-three....", I'm compelled to here for contrast -- because back in '03 I recorded my coldest commute EVER, at minus-9ºF, on a dark January 23rd night. To think that I'd be riding home THIS evening without so much as something to cover my ears is amazing... but I'm certainly not complaining! That's Kansas, however -- the state of extremes: that SAME YEAR, only two weeks earlier on January 8th, 2003, we broke the HIGH record of 71ºF. Anything is possible...and as they say, if you don't like the weather, wait.

I really should have scheduled January's R-12 ride for THIS week... dangit... Instead, I'm on for the 14th, which is still a week away. Quite a bit can and will happen in that coming week, so I'm keeping my fingeres fully crossed. What may instead be on tap is a proper January 200k, however, complete with icy wind and snow -- and to that I say, "bring it". I think the only thing negative about this long run of above-normal temperatures is that it really screws with acclimation. If a cold-snap... even a seasonal return ...awaits for the coming 200k, it'll be tough to get out of the van. It could be WAY, WAY worse... thinking to the last couple of years when we were still crusted over in ice and had snowbanks at every intersection, I need to be cautious what I complain about when it comes to R-12 pursuits in this part of the nation. I still have a project on my list that involves a true "do-it-all" winter brevet machine -- easy-ratio fixed gear, 26" wheels, big-volume tires with studs, fenders, front and rear racks, wide drop bars with Bar Mitts. While I'm certain the current steed will handle just about anything once the roads are treated, the prospect of having a world-beater, no-excuses machine at the ready is exciting, even if it's only for commutes. Right now, a poorly-timed winter storm would put a few nails in the R-12 coffin. I really don't want to have to road-trip south to finish this one... but I suppose I would.

For now, I have to figure out how to store all the layers I wore this morning on the way in, when temps were just above freezing. It's not easy planning for days with 45º temperature swings!!

Roll on, and smile!

Happy New Year

2012-01-02T11:02:00.001-06:00

Happy New Year, everyone!

I've tried to be careful not to construct false drama in previous posts or tease that I might be potentially announcing something here, like a big goal for 2012. I've been scouring websites, calendars, ride lists, yes... but I haven't written any registration fee checks. Probably won't, not quite yet. I'm letting things take their course, in a matter of speaking, and not really setting myself up to stress about anything specific yet, riding-wise.

There are still a lot of frontiers to discover - after all this time on a bike I love the fact that I still - essentially - have only scratched the surface. I have tossed around ideas about my first 1,000km brevet, my first 1,200km, also... but, alas, there are worthwhile things that will stand in the way of qualification for such pursuits. Finding time to get a complete SR-series before June 2nd (the deadline for qualification for most 1,200km grand-randos) will prove tough, since I already know I have to miss a couple key ride dates locally this spring. I know for sure I want to test myself at the 400km level, and really try to make a 600km happen as well - with a secondary goal of riding it straight-through. While I call myself a randonneur, if successful it will only be my 2nd 600km ever. Lots left to discover, indeed.

Further still, no matter what I do on the road bike, I still haven't done any real mountain biking... or 'cross... and haven't ridden fixed gear in over 5-years... and with both kids approaching local MS-ride minimum age limits, my next big thing may involve their first big thing, if the interest holds. While I still have my own goals, I get more excited at the prospect of setting them off on their own journey of self-discovery - and I'll toss out all my own aspirations to help that happen, if it is indeed what THEY want.

Tejas... yeah, yeah.... the ride date is in late September, which is after me and the kids will be back in school next fall. I suppose it could work, but I'd been holding out hope for a true summer date, like in August. It's still on my list - I can't keep defaulting to the notion that races/rides such as these "will always be there"... because (thinking of the defunct Tinbutt race in Oklahoma) sometimes even the best events evaporate after time. I have faith that the successful and highly-active Lone Star Randonneurs group will still be holding the Tejas ultra-events for years to come, but skipping it again is a risk. Like a lot of things in life, waiting for everything to "line up" is a foolish game... there's always going to be an excuse. At some point I'm either going to just DO it, or content myself with letting it go. While part of me still wants that big finishers trophy for the mantle and to say without hesitation that "yes, I'm RAAM-qualified", this year I know I need to be close to home to ensure my kids first few weeks of their first year in middle school come with complete parental support. Quickly as I say that, my wife will remind me that it's not unreasonable to have aspirations for myself while still being a good Dad... so, we'll see what happens.

So, while there may not be a trophy or t-shirt involved, I still have plans and goals for 2012. Lest I forget, if January 14th goes well, I'll be sitting on five-to-go towards R-12... so it isn't as if nothing is going on. After a recent revisit to knee issues after discovering my saddle height had dropped a little.... but the seatpost DIDN'T (saddle drooping?)... my biggest challenge of 2012 may simply be finding a new saddle and breaking it in. Ugh.

The prospect of a whole new year to go after ANY of these things is exciting, no matter what happens!

Heck, I'm riding a bike... how bad can things be?

2011 proved to be a great year. Better than 2010. So the only thing I'm really shooting for is "better than 2011". I got in a great ride with some good folks on the last day of the year to the Cidermill and back - and while I had to get hurried in the end, it was still a great day out. I took the camera, reminded myself to look at something other than that patch of road 10 feet in front of me - so even at-speed I took in some great scenery, old bridges, and after a couple teases finally got a decent dog-chase on Renner Road. That's a good start...

I haven't organized a Saturday AM ride in a while, haven't attended a weekend group ride in a while (aside from yesterday), haven't put together a DSR in a while, haven't attended a multi-day tour in a while... there's lots to do... trying to pick ONE thing, right now... nah. I don't need any resolutions - because I'm having a pretty good time already, feeling good... just keep it going, and the rest will come. That'll do for now.

In any case, Happy New Year!

Identity and reason

2011-12-26T15:25:00.001-06:00

After viewing a great many videos and reading texts on cycling long distances, whether it be RAAM or P-B-P, cyclists taking part were asked at some point "why they are doing this". A great many took pause while trying to come up with an answer. Many were unable to. Sometimes we need someone else to tell us. I, myself, am not sure I could come up with anything at quick notice. I'm not sure any of us NEED to - but the truth lies somewhere in the notion that long distance cyclists are either riding away from, or towards, something. Whether any of us figure out what that "something" is in our lifetimes isn't necessarily as important as continuing the search - and remembering to keep it fun.

Fun is important. A great many friends over the years have taught me how to look more closely, carefully, when I'd lost my way. I have learned to laugh in the face of interminable distances. I have found the simple joy in a hot cup of coffee. I have learned that there is "tired", and there is "600k tired". I have shook hands with new friends at the end of seemingly endless torture, and have smiled despite pain, sores, aches, fatigue -- fatigue so deep you find yourself giggling one second, and then for no reason, crying. I haven't always seen the roadside daisies while on my search, the cool old bridge or building or bird - but I have learned to look, even to stop. I have learned that what lies at the end of this long string of roads is not as important as what I learn on the way, what I see, what I smile about, what I share with others while they make their search. While there are receipts and stamps and route cards, it's not about the clock or the miles or the course record. It's also not about beating the other guy... yet, if you've ridden with me, you know that for some reason I still like a good rabbit. Sometimes you need the comfort of the group... sometimes you need the silence of solitude between groups. It's deeper than all that, though.

I have watched in amazement the exploits of those making it back to Paris before some riders even reach Brest. I remember hearing of riders making the end of the MS-150 before the lunch stop even opened - and remember letting personal comparison dictate my level of enjoyment. I have read amazing tales of near-death experiences turned completely around into stories of triumph over odds, and have thought less of myself for giving in to pain too easily. I'm sure there is happiness there in those tales of remarkable sporting ability, but more often than not I find myself questioning whether or not they're having a good time - watching hurried control mayhem, yelling, people shoving food into their faces, clothing refreshed, creams and lotions applied -- and watching them be shoved back into motion, off the bike for only minutes. I seldom see a smile. I have seen the strongest riders stop, dozens of hours in the lead, alone - just stopping, quitting, because there is no competition. For them, the competition is the "why"... and when that "why" is removed, they no longer know why they are there. One could call "cop-out" on me, or similar... but, I HAVE to be able to smile... I know that about myself. Things really do become harder when I'm not having fun. Everyone measures "fun" in their own way, all have their own facial cues, quirks... but, watching those videos, looking at their eyes... I'm not sure I can see it.

Others have their bodies give out before they find what they seek... and it make my heart heavy to see a strong athlete reduced to tears because their will is still so strong, yet the physical pain is too great. I have seen others slip into fatigue, and the clock is unkind. Hours from the next control with only minutes to get there - for some reason, there is still a smile. Perhaps it hides something, but it is - from my perspective - genuine. They have, on paper, lost... but, they don't crawl into the van. They refuse the SAG. Without any reason greater than "it's a nice day, and it'd be a shame to waste it," they continue pedaling towards Paris. There will be no prize, there may not even be a single soul applauding them home... but they continue. If the search consumes you, then whatever you find at the end could be bittersweet, hollow, anti-climactic, or worse... unsatisfying... but for these, I don't think such a fate awaits them at their own "finish". There is no final stamp, no appearance in the finishers list, no fanfare... but they have still, for themselves, finished. It's the character of these brave, heroic riders that I aspire to most of all.

After much personal toil, internal arguments, personal monologues - I am finally okay if I never have my name associated with any such amazing feat. It's not as simple as saying I've somehow suddenly FOUND something and that I no longer need to search... I know that what I'm searching for still doesn't have a name, or association, or direct example "just like so-and-so did"... I don't need to beat that record, best that time, ride a few meters farther than Tom, Dick, or Harry. I just need to relax, and enjoy the search itself. If I happen to beat "70-hours", or shave off a few minutes from "last months ride", then great... but confusing those goals with THE goal can sap out the fun. I still have drive.. drive that keeps me from seconds at the dinner table, drive that keeps me working out these days, drive that helps me squeeze out a little more speed - just to ensure that I'm giving anything I attempt my level-best... but, without keeping in touch with who I am, without having a good time at it ... what's any of it worth, really? Medals will be stored away, stories written... but at the end, will I be happy with ME?

Amazing things can still happen when you aren't trying so hard. That's not the same as giving up. I'm not giving up on anything. No sir. I take my cycling seriously... but this is a reminder to not take it TOO seriously. I find myself teetering on that edge this time of year, when getting up the motivation to ride is harder than it is in August for example. I pick my dates, send my emails, but then make the mistake of looking at ridiculously long-term weather forecasts. They aren't reliable, my logos knows this - yet, I still am compelled to look, and wonder. What if its cold? What if it rains? What if it isn't PERFECT??? I start to talk myself out of rides, weeks before they arrive. Ultimately, I can't control the weather. I can't let the weather control me, or my thoughts or mood, in the days leading up to the next ride. Who am I to second-guess nature's will, or the Creator's for that matter? What if I don't even realize that I NEED a ride in poor weather? Maybe it's the BEST thing for me? Let go... relax... keep it fun! After all, the worst weather can make for the best story.

The night before the December 200k, as I checked the alarm clock for the last time, clicked off the bed table lamp, and pulled the covers up to my chin, I asked the wife, "why am I doing this?" I knew that cold temps awaited, I knew it wouldn't be easy, and I wasn't sure I was ready for personal discovery. Doubt... anxiety...

"You're doing this because you love it, remember?"

She's always right, you know. I slept pretty good after that.

Sure enough a few hours later on a dark, cold road - I managed a smile, through the iced-over beard and all.

Yep... after all these years, all these miles, I'm still having fun.

The more I remain in touch with that, the farther I can go.

Episode VI: Return of the Ice-Face

2011-12-20T10:25:00.001-06:00

The normally never-considered vents on the tops of my shoes fill with freezing cold air as I rush down the first hill towards the river.

"Holy.... forget this...."

I check my six, touch the brakes, and turn the bike around. This is ridiculous.

Not quitting... just, for the first time ever, turning around for the van and the duffel-bag-of-plenty inside.

My first rule on preparing for long rides in the cold when you have to drive to the start location: pack EVERYTHING.

This morning, I'm not even sure it was twenty degrees. Add in the manufactured wind-chill created by cycling through the pre-dawn air and there was no WAY I was going to wait for the usual mile-three warm-up. I wanted to be warm, but NOW.

Checked-in already at the QuikTrip up the hill, I didn't much care that I was burning a little clock. Even the van looked surprised to see me back so quick. (yeah.) I fished out the keys from the seat bag and went diving for the few remaining layers that I didn't already have on my body. Mittens, check... Shoe covers, check... lock, slam, keys stowed, zip, zip, zip, gloves on, ROLL! ...MUCH better... now, to get this 200k started already!!!

This time out, it's the "All's Wellsville" route, starting in Kansas City, KS., passing through Edwardsville, Bonner Springs, near DeSoto, Linwood, Eudora, near Hesper, Clearfield, Le Loup, passing near Peoria, and finally the turn-around in Ottawa, KS. It's an interesting route ... flat in most places, which - honestly - bores me to tears. It's good training, however: training for the mind. Flat roads for me provide that anxious feeling like "you'll never get there" ...a feeling I need to learn to block out if I'm to pursue longer distances in a few short months. It's a great route, honestly, as are all of the KCUC offerings. I just have my favorites, that's for sure - but, I'm making a concerted effort to add variety to my R-12 run this time out as well as try routes that I wouldn't normally pick. It helps me hone my control routine in a variety of settings, prepares me for varied terrain, and keeps the scenery fresh.

For the moment, scenery isn't really a concern. It's dark. It's flargin' freeeezing. Without the normal bank thermometer signboard near the start location I don't have a way to confirm it for sure, but this may well be my coldest 200k start - at least in recent memory: the Knob Noster 200k comes to mind. The forecast changed hourly the day before, finally showing the mercury bottoming at around 20ºF. That was at the start location, however: farther along the route down in the Kansas River valley the temperature was set in the mid-teens. It surely felt like it - and, it was very humid. Frost everywhere, reflecting my lone headlight beam back in mystical shimmering sparkles as I rolled along K-32. Strange images, though... frosty dead possum.... frosty dead rabbit... frosty discarded McDonald's bag... and myriad other unidentifiable bits of roadside trash all rendered sparkly and magical by the fairy ice queen. Weird.

I grin at myself, and my facial hair resists... confirming that the ice beard has begun. Yikes... so far this year, I haven't even had that happen on a commute - so it's remarkably cold and wet up here by the river, my breath condensing instantly, flying back onto my face and freezing in place.

"Just take it easy"...

I'm not in a hurry to the first control - just making circles. I'm approaching the third month of "the new shoes", and lately I've been feeling the indications of possible over-training in my joints. This happened with the last shoes, and the ones before that. Time. Patience. Yet - in typical dude fashion, it'd be on my mind practically all day, just as it was in the 72-hours leading up to the start. The weight of willpower not to change something for the sake of "solving" a problem is a weight I don't wish on anyone. I exchange the hassle of temporary discomfort with the self-imposed burden of trying to find a solution for it - wherein I create more issues. Rinse, Repeat. Lock away your tools, dude. Ride it out. It's not pain... it's "change".

An early morning freight train passes me, blows its horn. This route is another rail-fan opportunity for me - nothing quite like combining two of my passions into one activity! I leave the lights of Bonner Springs behind and drop onto Loring Road, and though it's not technically "the old highway" it has that feel of ancient concrete as it parallels the Union Pacific railroad tracks, finally dead-ending right after I turn west on Loring Road's extension.

Despite the cold, I find myself dressed perfectly after adding the layers at the van. Summer cycling gear you almost can't get wrong, but COLD weather cycling gear can be a tricky thing. I've touched on this in other posts - true cold-use items, compared to chilly-use items that are marketed as cold weather cycling gear. While I like to keep things generic in these pages and not call out one brand or another, I feel compelled to here because of the experience I've had with their products over the past four years. That brand is Craft. All of the information you'd ever want is on their site, so I won't repeat it here - but, simply, when it comes to winter cycling I don't look to anyone else. Comfort like this comes at a premium price, and truth be told it's taken me years to individually amass the base layers, the jersey, the warmers, the head covers, the shoe covers ... but, each step has brought me closer to a perfect winter kit for long distances. Again, as I've stated many times, these particular posts are based around long-distance fitness cycling. For commutes, man, I've seen and used it all - and you can stay warm in hundreds of ways with little to no additional expense above what you'd normally spend to stay warm OFF of a bicycle. For long-distance, cumulative, fitness-oriented efforts where technical clothing becomes more important, however, there is simply no substitute for the good stuff when it comes to cold weather. Even if you can only swing one of their long-sleeve base layers, it will change your entire outlook on winter riding. Like me, you will find it remarkable how FEW layers you end up wearing on a really cold ride. The warmth and moisture transfer factors are staggering. Okay, that's my product plug for the day. Craft. Insist on it.

For long-time readers - yes, I still LOVE wool stuff. For rainy rides down to freezing, there's no substitute -- but when it's really cold I've found myself more comfortable if I stay drier. Wool insulates terrifically when it's wet - so if you KNOW you're going to be wet, it's perfect... like in the rain. When it gets very cold out, however, wool can hold onto sweat too long in my experience - and when cooling down at a control, I find myself eventually shivering as a result. The Craft stuff seems to pull moisture away from skin faster than anything I've ever used - it dries faster on the clothes line than anything else I own. The fabric, the weave - there's something to it, definitely. I would have thought evaporative cooling would create the opposite effect, but the Craft stuff is very warm as a result. Problem is - it has to STAY cold for the Craft stuff to be "perfect". If it gets warm, you'll get too hot. Wool still rules in the arena of temperature range - proven LAST month when on the Super Big Gulp route: a ride that started in the upper 20's, and ended up in the mid 60's... but I barely had to shed any layers, being comfortable in my wool togs all day. If you could only spend the money on ONE kit to rando in... because of that flexibility... it'd still probably have to be wool.

Meanwhile, on Loring Road, in a vacuum at sea-level, when vehicle A is travelling eastbound at 55 MPH, and vehicle B is travelling westbound at 55 MPH, bicycle Z will intersect with both vehicle A and B at exactly point X, where the width of the shoulder-less road shall be the width of (A+B+Z)-3 ft., causing vehicle B to slow to bicycle Z's speed, while the combined effect of reflective gear and shadows will cause approaching vehicle A to needlessly slow to vehicle B's speed at location X, which equals "horn". Crap. Of all the variables in all the world... at O'dark-thirty on some random road, how come the lone cyclist is always, eventually, found by two random cars travelling in opposite directions at the same time??? Finding the Higgs Bozeon (Boson?) can't be as important as figuring out this chaotic pattern [I find the former spelling more "scientific", as it doesn't conjure images of the key to universal mechanics being strapped to the back of a giant mid-western grazing quadriped, the mighty and elusive Higgs Bison].

Finally, some hills! Staying ever wary of my intention to take it easy for joint's sake, and to take it easy to avoid overheating, the hills are still welcome. I arrive at the end of this lovely road and pause for a nature break... marveling at the cascade of steam passing through my headlight beam. Cold out here. Stars are gorgeous... dogs barking in the distance... a train horn... gotta keep moving! It crosses my mind that if I simply turned back from here, I'd still have a nice 30 mile ride in the bag. Pah... sure, this isn't easy, but easy is boring. Besides...the first control has coffee.

Mmmm, coffee....

At this point, even my insulated water bottles are resisting the day. I manage to extract a few more drinks - far less than I'm probably requiring, but it'll have to do. They're almost frozen solid.

I give the girl working the c-store a bit of an interesting scene. She pauses briefly from her store-opening register routine to consider me, my clothing, my iced-over face, my numb-tongued requests for time and initials in the appropriate brevet-card box. Surely a sight... deep in the haze of teenage I'm-too-cool-for-anything-to-shock-me, I still manage to get a glimmer of confusion to show up behind her eyes while I fumble through my back pockets, punch data into my phone, extract calories from various baggies and plastic tubes, fill bottles with hot water, only to then disappear back into the cold darkness outside the frosted-over front door. Too interested to completely ignore me, but not interested enough to ask - the fate of most non-randonneurs peering into a world that they'll likely never understand; made worse by participants like myself that find it difficult to come up with a quick explanation that doesn't immediately raise more questions.

The next few dozen miles fade and blur into a mural of a frosty, brilliant sunrise over brown fields and images of a lone cyclist - the only spot in the scene nearly as-bright as the rising sun - making his way across the valley crossing the Kansas River, while birds of prey begin the morning hunt overhead. Countless pedal revolutions, sips of water, insertion of calories, songs, movie quotes, interesting barns and buildings, trees and cemeteries. Euroda, Clearfield, Wellsville.... a few stops here and there to rest the legs, take in the views. These long, cold, solo rides don't do much for drama or storytelling -- marked only by mile-posts, bottles emptied and filled, and the subtle twitch you can feel when the temperature finally peeks above freezing. The sky is a brilliant blue, the sun is there... but its warmth is fleeting. I roll along in a dream state - sounds muffled by covered ears. Mere glances to the horizon feel like minutes - images captured on the landscape of my mind, held there, considered for miles while I carve a tiny envelope through the icy air. Everything is happening slowly, and I'm on autopilot.

Weird... a frosted-over dead coyote... that's a first.... I did SEE that, didn't I??

I didn't check my average at the first control, but - interestingly - each subsequent stop since shows a small tick upward in overall speed. It's difficult enough riding in the off-season. There are no thoughts towards personal-bests, only survival of the conditions. I have no expectations this day - just to finish. However, I'm pleasing myself with the continued upward trend displayed on my cyclometer. It's a good indication that the work I've done since July is paying off: the weights, the LT sessions, cross-training, diet -- all culminating in a decent performance even without conscious effort towards a number or goal. My overall goal this fall was to increase my cruising speed - to get back to the point that even when I'm dog-tired I'm still riding consistently without having to think about pushing. In 2003, that speed was in the 18's. In 2008, that speed had dropped into the 14's. Now... we're back in the 16's... Getting there... slowly. This is good for the to-be-chosen "big goal" for 2012. I'm also reaching a point where mentally I can unplug a bit - instead of lamenting about the length of a road or how-long to the next whatever, I find myself just "showing up" at turns - all while still being able to enjoy the passing scenery. Hard to describe - but I'm liking where I am at the moment, and where I'm headed.

I hate K-68. I don't even want to talk about it.

Pizza, cheesy potato bites, more Perpetuem Solids from Hammer Nutrition, water, water, water.... I ate like a pig at the halfway. It's been stated by nearly every outdoor publication you can get your hands on: winter sports burn more calories. Here, here. This is an area I normally fall short in - and it's especially prevalent in winter cycling where (in my case) most of my on-bike calories are stashed where they aren't easily reached - especially with clumsy gloves and mitts. While I've played with the idea before in many different incarnations, I always - eventually - get rid of the handlebar bag. One of these days I'll grow up a little...but, I think my opinions will change once I have an opportunity to set one up correctly, with a good front rack and decalleur - mounting it low, out of the way. For now, I simply stop more often, unzip a few layers, and go fishing in my back pockets. At the controls, it's food-game ON.

The sun is out - it's bright... frost is melting off the roof of the Casey's in Ottawa and dripping down onto the sidewalk around me while I chow down, packing this and that onto the rear rack. It's finally warm enough to shed some protection, and the much needed layers I grabbed at the last minute finally get retired. It's certainly no tropical paradise, but it's above freezing - and that's PERFECT weather as far as I'm concerned. Comfortably full, I finally declare the ride "halfway done" and point the bike east on K-68 once more.

I hate K-68. I don't even want to... deja vu!

I mentally discard the highway section by playing "what the ____ is that noise??!" with my bike.

This actually continues all the way back to Wellsville, where-in I spend perhaps an hour not thinking about saddle comfort or my legs or knees or anything... because I'm trying to find that rattle. This involves keeping one hand on the 'bars, while the other roams from cable to cable, fender, light, wire, brake lever, pump, rear rack, helmet strap, zipper pull, computer mount.... WHERE ARE YOU COMING FROM?!

rattle/rattle

It brings me to the subject of "sanity savers".

What's that? Some of you know... but for others: those seemingly ridiculous rubber donuts that fit over your top-tube routed brake cable? That cleverly placed bit of electrical tape that prevents two crossing shift cables from rubbing? That re-purposed bit of taillight bracket shim that keeps a frame-pump quiet? Wrapping everything in your seatbag in shop rags, to ensure NOTHING can rattle or shake? There are roads out there that make these things necessary, even on a properly tire'd steel framed bicycle. There are a few of those roads on this route. It may not seem like a big deal - but when your brain runs out of things to focus on, deep into hour seven of your next ride, that tiny rattle that you can't find will drive you completely, Edgar Allen Poe, Chinese water torture, Dumb and Dumber road-trip, INSANE.

Cut to a picturesque scene of a country lane from the point of view of a local cow, and in the distance the silhouette of a cyclist dismounting his bicycle in a scream of fury and defeat, tossing it into the adjacent ditch and shouting "make it stop" at the heavens. The cow looks on, confused, but continues chewing - raising his bovine eyebrow in curiosity.

Marveling at my ever-increasing (if you can count 0.1 MPH at each stop "marvel-worthy") average speed, I notice that the wind is beginning to shift - as forecast. I'm truly blessed... this, for the 2nd month in a row, was another of the fabled and (now-not-so) ultra-rare double tailwind events. Thank the maker... but, man, I am SO gonna pay for this next month. My zippers are a little bit lower, my smile a little bit wider as I settle into a good rhythm heading northbound on Tennessee Road towards Le Loup, KS. It's only five miles, but it always comes across as a bit of a death-slog. This is where the "80-mile wall" starts to show up... but, today, it is a joy. Crystalline skies, and approaching the T-intersection at the northern end I catch a container train heading NE, its brightly painted boxes contrasting nicely against the dead hillside behind them. Wellsville is next... keep moving.

I tango a bit with I-35 and finally make the bricked streets of Wellsville and the welcome sight of another Casey's. Today, while my rolling average is good, I'm still not passing up any opportunity to get off the bike and step inside for a few minutes - control or no control. Apparently, Wellsville has a town ritual - and today, I'm standing right underneath it, at noon, when it happens. Perched about halfway up the superstructure of the city water tower is a civil defense siren... and that water tower is directly behind the Casey's. I'm literally 20 feet from the base of one of its legs. It's SO loud, that it encompasses my senses fully - vibrating my entire body. It's only a 2-second long burst, but it spins back down to idle passing through every conceivable frequency - from spine tickling to teeth chattering... it will find your head's resonant frequency and exploit it. Apparently, they do this every day at high noon. Some towns have nice church bells, or a clock tower. Wellsville has a giant WWII-era air-raid siren. Scared the living daylights out of me. Right when quiet was restored, I swear I heard muffled, maniacal laughter coming from the operations center at city-hall... "we got another one!"

Sound the alarm... cyclist comin'....

Fast-forward 15 miles, and I'm back at Eudora... the QwikStop, and another personal stop. Average speed ticked up another notch... more water refills.... only 30 miles to go! I cross the Kansas River again, across railroad tracks and up the ridge ... finally some more climbing ... to K-32, and then back to Linwood, where I manage to catch the same girl working the counter as earlier that morning. She's right at the end of her shift, but I still manage to get matching initials scribbled in the 1st and 2nd-to-last boxes on my route card. Bonus! My summertime mark of trying for under 10-hours total is slipping into impossibility, but I'm still pleased considering that was never even a thought for this ride. I calorie-up a little for the last 20-mile or so shot ... which, I swear, always seems like WAY more than just 20 miles.

I dance with a couple more trains along Golden Road north of DeSoto, KS., climb up the big hill on 158th street that takes me back to Loring Road for more interesting climbing and a nice, long descent back down to river-level. More trains, and FINALLY... confirming that I'm not completely nuts, I see another cyclist! We exchange waves across the lane as we pass each other head-on -- big thumbs-up to the guy in the red jacket, whoever you are. There must be some cosmic significance to that part of Loring Road, because it's almost exactly where the pre-dawn chaos-theory experiment happened nearly 10-hours earlier. Bonner Springs city limits come into view, and afternoon traffic. It's not too terrible, but I manage to catch every red light through town. Nothing like traffic-light intervals after 110 miles are in your legs!

I check off the landmarks... K-7, the nasty railroad crossing, the shoulder disappears, then reappears again, Sonic, gas station, I-435, Edwardsville...

Another random and poorly timed nature-break opportunity beckons... ugh!! Pick you battles, dude... you're WELL hydrated today! It's moments like these where I'd much prefer a little solitude and some shrubs... but, alas, gas-station loo it is. I like a certain kind of misery -- but sitting on a full bladder while tackling the hills that await on 78th street isn't my kinda treat.

Climbing away from the Kaw cut towards I-70 to the finish is a mean way to end 127 miles of riding. I feel fresh, spirited - despite a few troublesome cramps and yanks in the calf area of each leg... more growing pains from the new shoes, no doubt... no panicking allowed. Climb! Don't think about the pedal stroke... just let it happen! More traffic awaits near the motel finish - and I have to ride past the van again to get the last box checked at the QuikTrip. I catch each red light near the highway, again... ugh.... tick-tock: but it's only time. This one's done, effectively... I can sit at these lights for hours and still finish.... and it seems like it takes that long!!! GREEN! GO!!!

Perhaps a more desolate route for January? Second month in a row I've ended a 200k in the throes of afternoon traffic. Ugh.

Said with a grain of salt, of course ... the GOOD thing about such routes in winter, if you need shelter and services, they're there.

Maybe I can gut out the traffic... maybe.

QuikTrip, a bottle of chocolate milk for the road, a final receipt, a final signature... and one final encounter:

"you ridin' across the country or somethin?" from a local gent, also checking out.

"mmm, no - but, this is like a training ride for stuff like that, I suppose. Someday, someday..."

"well, I was behind ya in traffic back there trying to figure out what "randonneurs" meant..." (thanks, French people)

It was a neat encounter with an unlikely party - which is one of the things that makes these rides so interesting. The people you sometimes meet, never who you'd expect to talk to about it with you, and they are always genuinely interested, fascinated... and sometimes as confused about our motivations as WE are when it comes to explaining that one, lingering question of "WHY?"

...heck, if I knew WHY, I don't think I'd be out here looking for it...

That about sums it up.

Schtuff in my head:

"The Bambi Lazer Collection", with every burp

"The Proctor" scene from the movie "Who's The Man?"

Hell Yes - Beck

Satellites - Doves

Under Cover of Darkness - The Strokes

Harmonicas are Shite - Fila Brazillia

You're So Vain - Carly Simon

Spirits in the Material World - The Police

Thanks for reading!!!

Number Sixx, Nikki!

2011-12-16T17:41:00.001-06:00

Checked off RUSA 200-kilometer ride #6 today, on the "All's Wellsville" route!

So...I'm officially "halfway" to my 2nd R-12 award... that's the current (and so-far, only) goal I've got brewing.

As my rando-mentor would say, "halfway means I know I'll finish..."

Here's hopin' the weather cooperates!

Sure as I type this the forecast for next week includes snow... unsure how much, but it's coming.

I was very hopeful to get this in without dealing with any -- and having scheduled it the 2nd week of November, there was NO way to guarantee that.

Got REAL lucky on timing.... now just have to worry about January and February. Yeesh. Roadtrip???

Got in some good "flatland" training... not a lot of climbing on this one... which, I have to say, yeah... "flat" is not necessarily a GOOD thing to my ears.

A few good climbs in there, though, but a lot of highway time.

Full post coming, in usual fashion with all the goodies.

For now... food, sleep.

My back pages

2011-12-10T09:11:00.001-06:00

During my usual evening Google Reader session last night, I came upon a well-written post on one of my favorite blogs and I thought it would be worth sharing here:

http://kentsbike.blogspot.com/2011/12/pounced-with-fire-on-flaming-roads.html

It instantly reminded me of a time when I got really heated up about road behavior in the area and wrote a rather acidic post about it. Compared to everything I've written before and since, the post I wrote responding to the stop-sign running and subsequent ticketing of several area cyclists on a weeknight group ride is still THE most-read post on this blog. I felt strongly about my position on the matter and won't apologize for what I felt at the time - but, I think I've mellowed a little about it and many other things. I'm not nearly the no-grey-area hardliner portrayed in the older post. I have my way... others have their way. Surely as I blew a stop sign just the other day, I'm not perfect - and I'm no longer interested in trying to be "right", in practice or in image. We all make mistakes. I'm not going to be so foolish as to say I'll keep my opinions to myself - but I'll certainly check myself before I'm so quick to check others. I think, in that regard, perhaps I'm aging gracefully.

Kent put it perfectly, and it's the same behavior for me:

I always stop at stop signs.

Except when I don't.

In this case, I blew a stop sign to avoid having my leg chewed off by a very angry-looking rottweiler in full chase ... and I'm still confused about where this particular dog's "fence line" ended... seriously, he chased me for the better part of two miles, well beyond his property - confirming he wasn't interested in simply protecting his territory, as in most dog encounters. He either wanted a good workout, or a snack. After 3/4 of a mile, the 2-way, cross-traffic-doesn't-stop intersection came into view. "Cujo" was still coming hard. I had a good sight line in all directions and thankfully there was no traffic. Had their been... well, who knows. Zoom -- I'm across. Atypically, the beast didn't hesitate at the crossing of roads. There was no change in the rhythm of his paws beating against the pavement as he continued straight across the road after me, gaining. I sprinted again, thinking "that oughta do it", only to hear the gallop gain amplitude again.

"Geez, dog...give up!"

Down a hill and around a corner, I finally thought that I'd lost him...until he exploded from the trees at my right, having cut across the corner through the brush, trying to head me off. "Holy...." With the time I've spent in the saddle over the years my dog encounters are too great to count, but all of them were fairly benign and predictable. I've never been pursued with such vigor by an animal, and it was a little disconcerting... there was no barking, no snarling... just focus and teeth and blurred legs... scary dog. I felt I made a far safer choice by running that stop sign rather than calling that particular dogs bluff. Eventually, he peeled off and gave up the chase... and another afternoons training with "Eddy" came to a close.

To my opinions on legality, yeah -- I broke the law. I wouldn't have preferred it, but I'd have gladly paid a fine rather than endure having my calves stitched back in place in the ER... assuming the dog had the intention. Even as I groaned to myself in disapproval while I looked frantically right and left to ensure there weren't any cars approaching, I couldn't see myself limping home with dog bite wounds being able to proudly proclaim "at least I came to a complete stop!" Pick your battles, indeed.

Of course, my unwavering position in the post from August 2009 was more about the reason than the act itself. In any case, whether I was actually going to get my leg gnawed off or not, I still chose to break the law.

Another point in Petersen's discussion involves holding to the "social pact" we have with drivers and other cyclists. I still hold my personal position of trying to set a good image of cycling in and around Johnson County, KS., and whether it be flawed or not is up to personal consideration by the reader. My positions and my delivery are constantly evolving. I certainly don't profess perfection, nor do I demand it in others - even if I occasionally get frustrated.  I still contend that certain maneuvers employed with the justification of salvaging ones average speed represent a risky practice - but, that's someone else's choice to make.

I feel it's best to make safer choices, instead of reckless ones. I agree with Petersen's take, where we're all better off for those safer choices. Co-workers still thrill me with stories of cyclists they see blowing stop signs and red lights "right in front of them", so I have an impression that we can all set better examples than we have been - and I'll leave it at that. While I'd still prefer cyclists be more careful, set a better example, and have more of a reason other than "everyone else is doing it", or "I didn't want to break pace", using these pages to spit venom and create division in the cycling community doesn't benefit anyone, and doesn't advance bicycling.

If you aren't a subscriber to Kent's Bike Blog, I highly recommend adding it to your reader, or blog-surfing routine.  Mr. Petersen has a patient, calm demeanor to his writing - and the prose is delivered eloquently and with a definite style and flair, while still taking a stance and making a good point. Collectively, his blog could be read cover-to-cover and taken as a novel-in-progress, compared to the random ramblings I hastily post on occasion. Proof that whether it be writing, or riding, or taking a stance on a touchy matter - I still have a lot to learn.

Happy Holidays, readers - and be safe out there!

More winter riding tips

2011-12-07T17:15:00.001-06:00

This post goes a long way towards hopefully helping you think about ways to battle the wintery conditions as we creep into December in bicycle-land, but upon re-reading it I felt a few things might need some reiteration or clarification. Further, there is a saying that I try to subtly echo on this blog, in the "Perfect Weather for a Bike Ride" banner: there are no bad days, only bad equipment. That can be true for some of the simplest things. Just a couple of those simple things are here:

Nose wiping:
I don't know about you, but when my heart-rate goes up and cold air is added, my nose runs. It's annoying, and the resultant sniffling is a constant soundtrack for all my winter rides. Every conceivable type of cycling glove, winter or summer, has a "thumb wipe" surface on it, so it's certainly not an individual problem. However, if you are like a lot of winter cyclists that found their winter riding glove solutions somewhere other than the local bike shop, you may not have this handy feature. Someone out there is a thinker:

The Glove Spot

Brilliant - available at many other places than the above link directs, but they had the best depiction of it.
Super soft, usable with ANY glove, washable. You want one.

Method on LONG rides: DAB, don't wipe, if you can help it. Especially when charged with electrolyte-rich hydration, your nasal secretions can be quite abrasive... multiply by the number of wipes it takes to complete a 200k, and you can look forward to a few days of red, irritated discomfort around the edges of your nose. A gross subject, perhaps - but simply everyday life for the winter cyclist. It's hard enough riding in the cold - so, even keeping your nose cozy can prevent the dreaded "fatigue multiplier"!

Dryness as a cold multiplier:
Hydration is very important in winter, even if it's not immediately apparent on the bike. I've been guilty of this on many occasions, where the feeling of rushing through the cold air on a winter ride simply does nothing to trigger the "I need a drink" reaction.

The air masses that bring cold air into the continental US are very dry indeed and you can feel the effects as dry skin, chapped lips, static electricity buildup, and more. Dry, cracked skin can make already cold air feel even colder, and is generally uncomfortable!    Use lotions, lip balm and hand salves to keep moisture locked in - you'll sleep better, too, without those dry skin "itchies" that plague some of us. Hot teas and coffees are great warm-ups at controls - but remember the effects of caffiene on hydration and compensate accordingly with plenty of water and hydration solutions. Above all else, drink before you're thirsty!   Zipping along through dry, cold air can suck the moisture right out of you - just like riding in the desert! Dry works without hot - stay on top of hydration, even in the cold! Keeping the connection between comfort on the bike and adequate hydration on AND off the bike is essential. Eight-to-ten 8oz. servings of water per day is a good start, off the bike.

Making this especially hard ON the bike, however, is the fact that it is difficult to stay hydrated if your water is frozen.
As a bonus, electrolyte-rich water in your bottles has a lower freezing point than plain tap water, so try those fizzy electrolyte tabs in your bottles. If its really cold, keep a bottle in your back pocket, under your jacket to prevent freezing. The very bottles you choose can make a difference, too: insulated bottles can help keep your drinks from freezing as fast, and bottles with the newer "Camelbak-style" nozzles don't freeze up quite as badly as traditional "pop-top" bike bottles.

Finally, though I'm not a fan, wearing a slim hydration pack inside your outer layers can help keep things flowing - but be sure to tuck the drinking tube back into your jacket between sips to prevent freezing.

I can't see!
Low sun angle, bright car headlights, and headwinds that rush behind your riding glasses and make your eyes water incessantly! Ugh, the trials of winter riding... I submit to you, cycling caps. Yeah, yeah -- some will cry "euro-trash" or "pro-wannabe", but you'll seldom catch me on a ride of any kind without a good cycling cap. Whether it keeps the rain off your glasses and helps you see the road, whether it prevents the cold headwind from drying out your eyes - or making them water so much you can't see straight, whether its acting as a visor against the low sun, or preserving your night vision against on-coming traffic on a dark road - the cycling cap is definitely not just some useless 80's pro-style throwback. It's layers for the head for me: a winter beanie or ear-band, and cap. If everything else in your cycling wardrobe is neon yellow, like me, the cycling cap can be your quiet homage to your favorite team, or just basic black - but it doesn't matter: That visor is GOLD.

Be careful: helmet fit should be maintained. It's remarkable how "just one more" thin layer of fabric can render a summer-time helmet really tight -- it's a good time to shop the clearance rack for a larger, or generic "one-size" "winter" helmet. you can fit bulkier winter head layers under it without sacrificing fit or safety. Plus, for VERY cold days, you can tape off the vents to help hold in heat and block out cold air, or use it as a platform for your winter helmet light set-up. Also, insist on genuine cycling caps... ball caps won't work here, unless you ride a recumbent -- the visor is TOO large, and can block too much of the road.
On that note - especially if you aren't used to riding with a visor: keep your head up... if you're a heads-down rider, a new visor can be an effective way to find the back of a parked car when you don't want to.

Other quick tips:

Buddy up: a lot of riding is done solo, but someone to talk to or share supplies with can be valuable. If you can't, make sure someone knows where you're headed, via email or the like.

Check your supplies: Tubes and patch kits can dry out after a season in the seat bag, so winter is a good time to make sure you rotate these items and ensure that if you get that dreaded winter-time repair opportunity, you have what you need - and it's all fresh and ready.

$1.99 survival: getting sweaty on a winter ride can be dangerous, and many don't think beyond the short term roadside ordeal. If your roadside ordeal becomes longer than expected, like someone needs to come pick you up, be smart. Keep moving around, a brisk walk with your bike towards your intended pickup location - keep the body heat UP, to prevent shivers and possible hypothermia. If you have to spend some time sitting it is very handy to have packed along a silver emergency blanket. Available almost everywhere, fits in any seatbag, and cheap... you never know. For most adventure races, this is required equipment on the packing list -- make it part of your seatbag kit, too, even if it's just a short ride.

Batteries are cold, too:   it's also a good time of year to refresh your taillight batteries. Cold air can reduce the output of most batteries, and if you've already been running your taillight through the summer months, they could be close to dead anyways. Keeping them fresh can help keep you seen on dim, grey days. Rechargeables are great here, too, as are the more expensive lithium AA cells: though pricey, they don't succumb to the cold as quickly as alkalines.

That's all I have for now...hit the comments if you have more!
Dress up... go ride!
See you out there!

The Hard Quarter

2011-11-29T12:44:00.001-06:00

So, in just a few days time we enter what I've started calling "the hard quarter"... for the randonneur above the "freeze line" in the continental US, this is where cycling traditionally gets tougher for a lot of different reasons. Road conditions, temperatures, sun angle, wind direction and speed and feel, keeping bottle contents in liquid form, precipitation type, cloud cover and its effect on the psyche... etc. Most riders have had their bicycles hung up since October... others relegate to the indoor trainer, or the short-course group ride. Commuting gets tough, too -- early alarm bells, no sun... and sometimes returning home in the same lack of daylight - it can get old. Finally, 'cross season wraps up and it gets a little darker and colder still, the cowbells clang fading into the background of the roar of that first icy north gale... yes, December, January and February are the harder months, for sure... harder, but not impossible.

The rewards are tangible - like in summer when quenching a hard century with a cold beer or a dip in the pool, it's such a treat to come indoors after trials against a cold headwind, releasing frigid fingers from woolen captivity, feeling the warmth of a hot shower return life to icy legs, feeling the glow of the fireplace, the hot tea and food... perhaps even a crisp winter ale or a nip of scotch and the friendship of an old, worn recliner chair. The cradle of bedsheets and a good quilt after finally retiring to a warm bed, images of frozen waste still whizzing by in your head...and the satisfaction that you accomplished something that only a small few will dare. The rewards are many, but the hardest part, often, is simply motivating oneself to go outside.

Never pause... never consider... dress fast... go ride...

Easier said than done. As I continue the march towards a second R-12 award, I find myself looking towards winter at the halfway mark of accomplishment. This hurdle, from the wrong angle, can seem giant - un-jumpable. Surely as the commuter in me will sometimes smack the snooze button a few times too many, and grab the car keys with a rush of guilt - there are weekends where the wind, the cold, and the grey stand against the front door with too much force to budge. "How bad do you want it?" they'd taunt... the clatter of busy wind chimes announcing the relentless push of Canadian air, the dance of dead leaves down the street as they try to flee. Tiny white flecks caught in the glow of a porch light across the way... snow...

Yet, for the strong-willed, the able, the hard cyclists of winter... the taste is too sweet. How to BE that rider, no matter the weather?

Never pause... never consider... dress fast... go ride...

Every winter ride is three miles long... and only three. The fires of cellular exchange heating the core to boil... steam and sweat, angry against the cold, begin to tip the battle... and from frozen lips the strain of push curls upwards into a frail grin, the first hill mounted. Layers are unzipped, shoulders drop, the neck loosens... fluidity returns to the legs as the rhythm is unleashed. Cocooned against the odds in body heat, wool, and Lycra - a flash of bright yellows and luminous reds against steel grey skies. The snap of lifeless twigs and the crunch of sand under cold tires echoes the applause for those that defy the seasons! Some will glare in disapproval, some gaze in disbelief, some nod in pure respect... for the winter riders.

Whether it be that one-more-commute, that one-more-weekend-with-the-group, or whether it be number-six;

Never pause... never consider... dress fast...

GO GET IT.

Commuting and Randonneuring lights, revisted

2011-11-20T19:55:00.001-06:00

It's hard to keep up, but I'm trying to revisit some of the older, informational posts on this blog to ensure things are still relevant and current. One most-affected-by-time post recently gave me a good laugh, so I figured it was probably the one to try and focus upon. That post focused on Commuter Lights, and so, SO much has changed in such a short period of time that even writing a new post risks futility, as technology is moving at a rapid pace these days. It's as exciting as the computer industry, where reviews and publications on the latest hardware are outdated relics before the ink even dries. Lighting technology in general is moving at almost the same pace. Hybrid vehicle technology and the general crux of "green" thinking has inspired battery technology to nearly keep step - with trusty NiMH (Nickel-Metal Hydride) batteries still being king of the market at this writing, and LiION close in its heels. Advances in Lithium ION, Lithium Polymer, Nickel-Zinc, and advanced capacitive storage are emerging - and combined with the latest LED emitter technology the combinations are simply incredible. The only thing perhaps more staggering are the lower and lower prices this kind of gear is selling for. It's an exciting time.

In the last writing, halogen was still a "buzz word", and things like NiteRider's old Digital Headtrip were making headlines. Fifteen watts of halogen on your helmet was amazing stuff - but right as Halogen was peaking in bicycle circles, it seemed that HID (high-intensity discharge) was beginning to stir things up. Ridiculously expensive, but insanely bright, HID lights were king of the trails and streets for a few good years - but ultimately proved sensitive to vibrations, power-hungry, and bulbs were expensive. Right about then, LEDs started showing up. At first, they were near comical and strictly "be seen" lights. A mainstay of taillight products for years, it initially seemed the emitters just weren't up to the job of being anything but power-friendly position-marking lights. Anemic beams, diffuse, with confusing colors - it was sometimes downright scary to ride with one... I remember trialing several, and sticking with my trusty halogen generator system. With the correct optics, even as brighter Halogen battery lights came available and HID started to make shadows of anyone else's lights, the German optics of the old-school Bisy and Busch+Muller halogen systems - even at a measly 3W - still put lots of very use-able light on the road.

Looking back, only a couple years later, I can't believe some of the stuff I used to "be able to see with". By comparison to what's available today, they all seem silly - even the old top-dollar halogen generator lights, and big 30W halogen battery systems. Even HID lights, once thought un-beatable, have been completely dethroned by LEDs in the areas of brightness, beam pattern, run-time, weight, efficiency, and cost. Today, assuming you can even FIND anything besides it on the bike store shelves, if you aren't running LED lighting - you probably aren't riding at night.

I was most excited, to be honest, when LED technology finally arrived for the generator-hub crowd. I purchased my generator system at a time when halogen was the only thing available - and it was still expensive. Even a 5W halogen rechargeable headlight would cost over $100, and would have a run time that would have barely gotten me home. I instead was using an old Cateye "Halogen II" handlebar mounted light, which used a micro-sized halogen bulb and produced 2.4W of output. The optics were descent, and you'd get a usable beam of light projected onto the road that would serve you up to about 15-16 MPH. Downhills were experiments in faith. Yet, for years, that light got me home - night after night. With LR3 (AA) drycell rechargeable technology still being a bit "fringe" and also expensive, however, I was running through disposable alkaline cells at the rate of a 4-pack every fourth commute day. On some well-lit roads, I'd ride by streetlight - switching the light off completely to save battery. When I finally ponied up for a generator system, it was with the knowledge that it would pay for itself in disposable AA's in only a year. After almost TEN years of use now, it's safe to say that it has done that easily. I had no complaints about the generator system's halogen beam for years - knowing I never had to plug anything in or replace cells opened up worlds of possibilities, saved money and time, and made things like long night rides a worry-free affair. It wasn't until LED lights started showing up that I developed "lumen-envy", but LED technology combined with improved optics proved to be a perfect marriage to the existing generator systems - and soon, I was part of the LED party, too.

However, with run-times exceeding DAYS instead of hours in some extreme cases, the same possibilities that the generator system opened up ten years ago are available to anyone for often a fraction the costs - and it can easily be moved from bike-to-bike... especially in contrast to generator systems, bikes across many genres and wheel-sizes in your stable. On that note, you don't even have to buy a "bicycle-specific" light to enjoy the benefits of night-time riding. Any purchase, especially in tough economic times, should be smart -- and, that brings up the notion of multi-tasking products. Where it may not make good financial sense to purchase a "bicycle light", one can often make the argument for a good LED flashlight... and now, usually for far less money than a bicycle-specific light, you have a flashlight for around the house, the campsite, the garage, AND the bike. Zip-ties, an old length of inner-tube, a silicon arm-bracelet for your favorite cause, duct tape, or some combination of ingenuity and old reflector mounts or clamps can easily adapt any flashlight or torch to your handlebars, and you're off into the darkness. A recent post from the Kansas Cyclist touches on this perfectly, and I have seen Noah from KC-Bike ride many of our night-time events with a smartly purposed LED MagLite... and from any angle, these lights are just as bright and effective as any "bike specific" system.

The problem, often, is choice. You can have LED lights that are bike or non-bike specific and do a fantastic job lighting the road and rendering you conspicuous to motorists around you - but where to begin?? Pick your price point, and enjoy -- the tech will amaze you as much as the output of these latest emitters will. It would be an exhaustive effort for this author to try and keep step with everything the market has to bear currently - but there are a myriad of resources to research these things: Candlepower Forums is a great source if you really want to geek-out - especially for the still-very-relevant homebrew crowd, where dime-to-dime, you can probably outshine most commercial offerings with some elbow grease and a soldering iron. MY personal favorites are, in no particular order, are listed as links below - based on lights I've either owned or had the pleasure of messing around with for a weekend:

I will remind the reader that this is very much from a "pick your price" perspective.

The first two on the list, specifically, know no boundaries when it comes to power output, run-time, and low-weight racing systems for serious off-road 12/24-hour competitions, and the prices reflect that passion. Sticker shock will be a factor... but, taking advantage of these companies expertise at their lower price points does not disappoint, and you can find a seriously well-made commuter light.

Still, also keep in mind - just like Kansas Cyclist touches on, and from what I've seen from Noah's MagLite set-up - there is no reason to spend hundreds unless you demand a specific, bicycle solution - especially if you seldom venture off-road. From a few hundred feet away the difference between the beam of a $10 LED flashlight and a $200 LED bicycle-light can appear almost indiscernible. From the saddle, however, it will depend on terrain, your individual eyesight, and your intent. If nothing else, this list of links will demonstrate both the state of the art and what's possible at multiple price levels.

Finally - know your numbers: like anything sold these days, marketing is an important tool. Read this. Lumens, candlepower, LUX -- they can be confusing. More can be better, but not always, and it depends greatly on how it's measured. So, balanced against price and your goals - be sure you know what you're buying. Optics can play a big part in this, and it's especially prevalent at LOWER price points - so, if you are looking at a $30.00 bike light that claims 1,000 lumens, be sceptical. Is there spill? Will you be able to see 2 feet to either side? What's the run time? There's no free lunch - so demand good specs when shopping!

Remember - ride safely: bright lights are not a replacement for responsible riding, and good reflective gear so you remain visible - even when your 4,000 Lumen monster is pointed the other direction... and that's possibly no exaggeration: at this writing, there are people testing new systems for the 2012 and 2013 season, some exceeding 4,000 lumens. Un-real!

Enjoy, and see you after dark!

Busch+Muller (generator lights)

Supernova (generator lights)

Traffic Kills

2011-11-18T15:43:00.001-06:00

This week has been exciting from the saddle - it's been a few weeks since the fall edition of Daylight Savings time adjustments but I think it either took a week or so for sunset to "catch up", or I've been working later hours. Maybe both. Either way, the days are definitely shorter. Reflective stuff is on, lights are on AM and PM, and the guard is up - as most motorists begin to assume that bicycles on the road are no longer something their commute will contain. Combined with the first couple of sub-freezing commutes in the early AM hours and some amazing pre-dawn skies from the clarity that comes with very cold upper air, I've been finding it strangely easier to rise early and take to the bike before traffic takes hold. The brisk air has finally laid months of allergy suffering to rest, and aside from the usual watery eyes it hasn't been too bad. My old layering routine came back to me pretty quickly, so I've been balanced on the line of nicely-warm but not-too-sweaty upon arrival. Good commutes lately.

The annual "are you still riding?", and "what's the worst you'll ride in?" conversations around the "awffee" maker (a combination of "awful" and "coffee" used to describe the hot brown water that is sometimes mistakenly called coffee at my workplace) has led to some interesting and engaging discussions on the state of traffic, finding good routes, and "maybe I'll try it in the spring..." I hope they do, really... despite the harrowing subject of the state of traffic, I honestly think a lot of people would really enjoy riding to work if they only tried. Yes, I'm a bit mad about cycling - but I don't think one has to be nuts to have an appreciation for the difference in one's day when it starts from a saddle rather than from behind the wheel. I think the tipping point is somewhere north of $100,000, when your wheel is perhaps trimmed in Italian leather and puts you only a few inches away from a brimming V-12 engine... then, perhaps your step might have more spring than those commuting in your average sedan - but, I don't know... I'm still waiting for a major motoring publication to contact me for that particular road test opportunity. I'm more than happy to volunteer, gentlemen!

Yes - my motivations are pretty thin. It's a tough nut to crack for some people, in a world where riding a bicycle immediately draws people to the conclusion that you are somewhat environmentally positioned. Yeah, I recycle and repurpose whenever I can. I turn off lights when I leave rooms. I dig things like solar and wind power, and I don't like environmental waste, over-building, sprawl, strip-malls, consumerism, strip-mining, nor the like.... but I do love ridiculously expensive and often wasteful cars. No worries, though, loyal readers. The dangers of me ditching the bike and turning this into an upscale motoring blog are pretty slim, as I apparently missed the boat that came through town after high-school offering easy rides to would-be seven-figure earnings. With few exceptions, I choose to depart this cubicly-divided work-drome each evening by human-powered two-wheeled methods, and I doubt that would change much with the acquisition of a fine automobile. I still, after years of the "same old thing", love bicycling to work. Yea, I talk dirty to it and rub it down with exotic oils, take it to dinner and send it to bed with sweat on its brow, this love of mine for the bike.

Where was I?

Late fall and the attendant earlier sunsets have yielded some memorable evening commutes this week -- and I've been spending the majority of that time on the bike trail instead of the streets. Back to those concerns about the state of traffic, it seems lately that some major arterials are reaching capacity right about the time I intersect them, and overflow traffic is leaking onto my usually quiet sidestreets, with questionable results due to lack of motorist behavior changes that should accompany detouring to the "d" roads. I either need to modify my departure time from the office, or stick to the trails - and I've been opting for the latter despite the darkness. At the appropriate speeds my lights are more than adequate, and the reward has been relative solitude and peace.

Without having to play heads-down death-match with rush-hour, I have enjoyed amazing sunset skies with hues so beautiful I struggle to pin them to something as unromantic as a generic color name. The smells... crunching leaves... small animals scurrying about preparing for the inevitable ...and large animals, too: dusk-hour basically being "deer-hour" lends one to cycle the trails at a more casual speed in case of encounter, and I have been rewarded each night this week with just that, the most magnificent being a large multi-point buck just last night. A flash of yellowish-green as my headlight beam caught his eyes -- and a big handful of brakes -- as he jumped from the brush and took to the trail in attempts to get away from my approaching threat without realizing that I'd be following along that same trail by design. Carefully keeping my distance, the result was a deer and cyclist paceline of sorts, if only for 200 yards or so - around a twist and a bend, the buck pausing when he'd thought he'd distanced me, only to spring forward along the trail again - finally darting left to lose me for good. That moment, almost in slow motion, of primal magnificence - the surrounding suburban landscape disappeared, there were no traffic sounds, no joggers or other bicycles... just me, following this giant creature through the forest in the darkness, his hoof falls thundering. With his quorum nearby he could have turned on me to defend his ladies at any moment, and I know of two stories from good friends that have had encounters with deer that did not end as well - but I was afforded this faux chase instead.

... it is in moments like those where that last hill no longer hurts, there is no "work stress", you're not going to or coming from anywhere, and you have no concerns with how far you've come or how far there is to go. No pain, no fatigue, no need for water or food, you can no longer tell what temperature it is, or isn't... nor the time of day. Even further, there almost is no bike underneath you... It's just you, experiencing.

A car at any price, any where, cannot replicate that. You only get these moments in the saddle, and though they can be few and far between those are the moments that become the explanation when you cannot explain to a non-cyclist why you keep riding.

Idealistic, yes -- there are times when riding isn't practical, where there truly aren't enough hours in the day to span the distances your day presents -- but, those that know what I know, know. It's never long before you're back on the bike. The surface reasons are easy... perhaps it IS environmental, perhaps it's gas savings, perhaps it's fitness -- but a lot of times for me its none of those things which REALLY bring me back to the bike ... it's the stuff I might miss, its the feelings -- the LIFE. Had I been driving home from work last night that buck wouldn't have even existed to me, and being tucked into a steel box I wouldn't have existed as a human being to those around me... moving about in the darkness blinded by each others headlights, we aren't people anymore... we're "traffic". Instead, back on the trail in the dark, that buck saw me and reacted, and I saw him and reacted -- and in that perfection of reactions, we were both confirmed as very much alive.

Tailwinds and traffic

2011-11-08T20:42:00.001-06:00

Continuing the motivation that finally got me to break the easy habit of the Border Patrol route a couple months back, this time I turned my sights on Grandview, MO. to tackle the Super Big Gulp permanent route. I have mixed memories about this route. The last time I rode it, however, was back in 2008 - so maybe some of the negative thoughts would pass. Only one way to find out. Last time, the drama came right at the get-go: back in '08, this was part of my near-600km weekend, where I tackled my September R-12 ride and the local MS-Society Ride back-to-back. (my apologies, some of the photo links on that old post are broken - looking in to it soon). Back then, I started the 200km route during evening rush-hour - and getting out of town proved both harrowing and frustrating. Far too much traffic, and all of it unsympathetic to cycling pursuits as is normally the case and nothing new: but, as a commuter I'd simply find a clever detour or back-road - as a randonneur, you have to stick to the cue sheet. Just like poor weather or a lot of hills, I feel the same way about detouring around traffic - I stick to the route, period. Yeah, it sucks sometimes - but that's part of the honor-system of the whole RUSA thing. Back then, I remember not really feeling "relaxed" out on the route until well after the first control, where traffic finally died down and everyone was home and off the roads -- but, let's face it: I started that ride at a weird time of day, something the route designer hadn't envisioned. It's still a good route - and on a weekend morning, it's magic - the way it should be.

Cut to Friday, 3:50AM - I arrive, park, and unpack the van to prepare for a cold morning. This was my first ride of this season where temperatures were below freezing, and I did the usual "pack everything" prep the night before, careful to be thorough - but not so much that I was paralyzed by too much choice. The core was already handled -- I tossed back and forth a little on an extra layer for the legs, and decided against it. Ultimately, I found myself perfectly layered up - shut the van, saddled up, rode up the street to the first control, and just about timed it perfectly so I minimized standing around in the cold morning air. I slugged down a bizzarre (but effective) mix of black coffee and sugar-free Red Bull and then headed south on Grandview Road with a gentle tailwind helping me along. No cars this time... no waiting... nice....

I think I've touched on this in previous posts, the differences in county design and maintenance - juxtaposed so clearly when you live in a metropolitan area that straddles a state line, the way Kansas City does. I have positive and negative opinions about each approach, but from a riding perspective it gets tricky. Missouri doesn't like to spend money where it doesn't have to. Up north of the metro (and south, too) this results in nice, quiet two-lane rural highways that haven't changed much in decades - and where it makes sense, out where there is no traffic, its good riding. When that same approach is applied to busier city centers the results are downright nerve-wracking for cycling. Grandview, MO is one such city - and this is only really a criticism from a cycling perspective. In Olathe, I recently watched the county, city and railroad partner on a massive project that completely elevated a level-crossing and widened the road underneath -- a project that spanned literally almost five miles in either direction on the rail line, and every street it crossed therein. The road it benefitted still isn't one I'd consider bike-friendly, but the project as a whole seemed to improve the area and the traffic thruput. In Grandview, however, specifically Blue Ridge Road, there are sections where you have nice, wide 4-lane opposed with a central turn lane suddenly funnel down to ancient two-lane that passes under a circa-1930's railroad tressle... and then it widens back out again. Without traffic, it's actually kinda neat... because it hasn't changed in decades near those bridges --- but WITH traffic? Wow. I float back and forth between "it's nice that they haven't changed the heritage of the area", and "why haven't they updated this?". It's an interesting region - and I don't have the space (and don't expect your patience) to argue pros and cons - the topography, the wildlife and surrounding forest, the character of the area -- they are distinct, and valuable, and I don't prefer change, generally... but, Blue Ridge is one of the only ways out of the city E/W and it can be harrowing on a bicycle at times. Where was I? Oh yeah...

Through the darkness and down Blue Ridge's nice, long descents (which I haven't ridden in years!) to State Line Road, and then south into the darkness near old Kenneth - startled by the air-brake hiss of an idling locomotive back in the trees near the crossing at 151st Street. It's cold, but not terrible -- the tailwind helps with that, and the occasional roller. I climb up to 159th and Mission, and then head south again through another glorious cycling destination of twists and turns and dives and steep climbs... Mission Road between 159th and 191st. In the same vein as my comments a moment ago, but with the side-note that this is a generally low-traffic area: I hope they never change this particular road. If you live in the area and haven't ridden it - either from the north or south - pick a weekend morning, early, and check it out. Approach from 159th, or 199th... and enjoy.

I pause at 199th for some food and a quick nature break. The sky is miraculously clear... perfect... sharp, bright stars and planets above... Orion directly overhead... such a sight, out here without the light pollution.

199th west to Spring Hill -- overlapping the Border Patrol route, I have to remind myself not to instinctively turn south for Louisburg. I arrive at the Casey's in Spring Hill, the first control, at 5:58AM... two minutes before they open: nice timing! (that's the c-store opening, *not* the control opening time... I'm not THAT fast!) But, the Casey's clock is faster than mine apparently and their doors are already open and morning business is jumping. The smell of *just* finished donuts, coffee and breakfast pizza slaps me in the face with a welcome blow of warmth and flavor... YES! The best part... sometimes the only good part... of cold-season riding is the treasure of warmth and food at the controls. Sometimes it's all about the hot coffee, I tell ya.

The wet, cold morning air had me shivering, despite the influx of hot coffee... a dangerous position to be in. Cold is ok. Wet is ok. Cold and wet can be bad. Only solution is to get moving again and dry off -- it's cold, riding along with layers unzipped, but getting dried off is more important. Too many layers, though warm feeling, can backfire... hard to find balance, and a little out of practice. Back on the road, things improve quickly after a sprint up a short hill.

A quick zig-zag over US-169 highway south of town, and onto Old KC Road towards Hillsdale -- another great road that I sometimes wish was a little bit wider, maybe with a paved shoulder. Ah, well... traffic is surprisingly courteous, thanks perhaps to my ridiculous level of reflective gear. Overkill? I dunno... I'd rather not roll the dice, and none of it weighs anything, catches any wind, or gets in the way - so why not? A little backlighting to the trees to the east indicates dawn is coming... back down to business.

Tailwind still in effect, I make haste - picking a good, sustainable cadence and sticking to my goal cruising speed of around 17.5-18.0 MPH. Quick enough, but certainly not in danger of getting to the halfway too early -- attempts at that are scheduled for next year. Yeah, I'm an optimist... but, part of me wants to try it again, arriving too early to check in. Today, however, is about consistency and finishing with about the same average at the end as at the halfway. Today, it would turn out, would offer perfect conditions for such training. I was careful in days leading up to this ride not to jinx anything, but if I timed things correctly I was in for another super-rare, ultra-special, deluxe, surprise, happy-time double tailwind ride.

Hospital Road south of Paola comes quick, then Hedge Lane... some of my favorite pavement ...the sky is getting lighter and I'm feeling good. Another railroad crossing at 343rd street, and southbound once again - until the road ends... this really is a great route if you can look past the "getting outta town" portion in the first few miles: it's a rail-fan's delight, with ten railroad crossings (mixed between level crossings and bridges) in 100 kilometers, and several miles of parallel opportunity. If you don't see anything on the way out, you get another chance at each one on the return trip. Second, it's hilly enough to keep things interesting, but not a quad-crusher. Third, you almost don't need a cue sheet -- nearly all of the decision points are "duhs", ending at T intersections - and where that isn't the case, the turns are well marked with highly visible road signs. The only potential "gotcha" is a roundabout, but its not too bad if you read the signs. There are also several more c-store opportunities than there are controls, which makes it a good winter route compared to more remote regions -- I didn't figure it exactly, but I think the biggest gap between gas stations is perhaps 15-17 miles, which is good if you find yourself cold or running out of water.. or needing to put water bottles in the microwave, if it's REALLY cold. Perfect route.

I roll through Fontana, KS. The last two visits to this tiny town took place in the dark back in '08... in fact, if memory serves, today's trip was only the 2nd time I'd seen Fontana during the day.

Thinking this town could use a Casey's... franchise idea in my future, perhaps... no, not here... perhaps somewhere between Appleton City and Weableau, MO, come to think of it....

I'd have the only c-store in existance with showers, a locker room, drop-bag storage, a sleeping area....accessible via brevet card authentication.... Hammer Gel dispensers... the mind wanders...

Snapping to, back on a beautiful stretch of road near K-152... at the top of the western ridge of Linn Valley. This view never gets old. The La Cygne power generation plant, billowing steam into the cold air - confirming that the wind, as scheduled, was beginning to shift to favor my return trip. WoooHooo!!

I dive down the fast downhills and proceed to hammer it across the flat valley floor - aiming for La Cygne before 9am, which I manage handily... 8:46am. Probably more time off the bike than I should have had, but I'm not too worried about control efficiency quite yet, at least not when it's cold out.... a few minutes at 199th and Mission, at least 15 at Spring Hill, a few minutes at 311th and Hospital Road, a few minutes at LN-1095 and K-152.... nature breaks, snack breaks, star-gazing breaks... why not? We ain't racin' today, just enjoying some spirited pacing while we ARE moving, I suppose.

I lose track of time at La Cygne, watch a train flyby, snack on grub, coffee, rest room break, a little indoor warmup - and then finally decide that I've lingered enough and get moving again. It's different this time of year: where in the summer I am anxious to keep moving to finish before the heat of the day gets unbearable, there is sometimes a little extra pause in the cooler months in the hopes that temperatures might improve. I don't remember actively considering this, but maybe it was subconscious. The nice thing about randonneuring - something I sometimes forget - is that you HAVE the time, generally, to rest up, get warm, etc. That is, if you manage it properly... the criteria is loose, but a finish is a finish whether it takes 13 hours, or seven. My personal trick, each time, learning from past close-calls: get to the halfway, no matter what the cost. Once you have that in the bag, you can then dawdle if you want or need to. Results can and do vary.

The steam plumes at La Cygne have moved, slowly starting to point northwest... my tailwind for the return ride is confirmed, and the sun is getting higher. Time to move.

The valley floor is tackled quick, and then the business of the hills leading up out of the valley. I have to say, I prefer the climb to the east -- easier to gauge effort, perhaps -- and I'm still a little tentative about the knees these days. After last month's Border Patrol where the saddle height and fore/aft was a little off, causing some post ride soreness that lingered right up to THIS morning, I had been focusing on high cadence during this ride to minimize impact and strain. Things have been steadily improving since the October ride, tested with commutes and some long indoor resistance drills when I could squeeze them in - but the real test would be the hills on this route. So far, so good -- but on the steeper stuff, it's just hard for me to keep a high rev going. Standing up, or seated, however... when the pressure came on, things felt good, tight - and not sore. Post-ride would tell the tale for sure, but I was hopeful.

Then, a few miles north of Fontana -- I'd stop and shoot the video footage that became the previous post...

After that, it was time to get down to business.

I checked my rolling time and did a little mental math, and figured I could probably still pull it off, if I pushed a little: The sub-6 hour century, a personal milestone that I've used in the past to measure consistency and the ability to get up out of the usual commute average speeds. Racers will scoff -- where sub-5 hour centuries are the norm, most likely... faster still, in fact, one of the most incredible performances I've ever witnessed was from an athlete at the Texas Time Trials in '07. Patrick Evoe still holds a personally-witnessed record of the fastest century I've ever seen thrown down, and I'm almost certain one of the fastest by UMCA standards (Not to mention the course record at Texas). When the 100-mile UMCA North American Century Championship launched in Cleburne, TX., while Tejas 500 riders were deep into their 500-miler, and I had already cashed in the chips and started crewing for Ort, Patrick came through the start/stop area after his first lap like a bullet train... and my (and others') first thought was... "wow!!... but he'll slow down". For the next three hours and change, we were all proven wrong. I've never seen anything like it. The dude is FREAKING FAST. Four hours and 13 minutes later, he was done with his 100 miles... an average almost hitting 24 MPH. That's solo, during a non-drafting event, kids. So, while I have a LOT LOT LOT of work to do before I even get close to shaving an hour off MY best century time, I'm perfectly comfortable with my sub-6 hour rolling time for now... because, for my long-term goals that's a comfortable 400-miles-in-24-hours pace. OF course, I have to train beyond that speed to ensure that hour 23 goes as well as hour 3.... but, today, I'm pleased to have raised my rolling average speed from 16.1 up to the required 16.6+ needed to make it back to 199th and Ridgeview Road in 5 hours and 58 minutes. Time to relax...

My secondary goal of finishing this one in under 10-hours total time was looking good now, too. The rest of 199th went off well, but things changed when I turned north on Mission Road. Normally a section where time can be made up -- not to mention BIG fun in the twisties -- I was surprised to see the road completely blocked by flashing lights, sheriff and local police, and power & light service vehicles. I throttled down and coasted up, talked to the sheriff and was finally allowed to walk my bike across several front yards - well away from a downed power pole and overturned car resting in the ditch across the way. Holy.... glad I wasn't around when THAT happened.

Looking back south on 199th, after walking past the accident scene on the other side of the trees, and giving detour directions to a few of these cars waiting here for a chance to back up and turn around. A local resident confirmed that their power was out - but she wasn't sure why. Fate, Karma, whatever you want to call it -- I'm thankful I took my time at roadside breaks and controls in the last half of the ride, as any cyclist could have easily been "just riding along" when this happened. Not sure if anyone was injured - but the ambulance was long gone by the time I arrived. Hope they're okay.

After a 1/2 mile walk, I was on the other side of the drama, ready to get back at it. Hills were in my future -- hills that give this route a reputation of being especially evil for the last few miles of a long ride. After a long cool-down at the accident site, I also found myself resting again at 159th and Mission road - desperate for a rest room break, but finding no shelter or break from passing cars to pull it off. While the clock was still on my side, I was going to have to work for my sub-10 hour 200km ride now. Ugh!

Up Mission, to 159th, down to Kenneth, around the bend, across the tracks, up more hills towards 135th, then WHAM.... traffic. I had hoped that, as alluded to in earlier paragraphs, traffic wouldn't be a concern at this point in the day - but I was wrong. After all, it was 1:40 or so in the afternoon.... but, no matter... cars, cars, cars... passing by a major interchange, several shopping complexes, apartments, and back down to narrow, unimproved Grandview roads heading across Blue Ridge itself, which I'd forgotten is UP for over a mile at a time in places... wow. It was on the longest climb of Blue Ridge where my bubble popped... whoof, no more push.... keep going!

Then Grandview Road... and why are all the school busses out, is my clock wrong?? Holy traffic.... finally back at the 7-Eleven past Red Bridge... and I'd actually, unofficially made it a smidge after 2:00pm....SO close! but then, of course, I have to unpack get out the route card, pick out something to buy, and stand in line to pay... a LONG line. A lot of people-traffic, too, here... so, officially, 2:13pm..! I'll take it, though.

Seriously... a simply stellar, awesome, perfect, fun day for a long ride... a great time.

Feeling good, and looking forward to December.

Songs in the Head:

Grounds for Divorce - Elbow
State Police - Brothers Past (the studio version is better)
Angelhead - Gabriel Rios
Grace - Will Young
15 Step - Radiohead

Stay tuned, and thanks for reading!

The Distance Diaries - No.1

2011-11-06T16:21:00.002-06:00

So, I got bored, got out the camera-phone, and took a little video - which I then (thank me) edited down into this little snippet. The process has given me a LOT of ideas... ideas that I can't capitalize on without upgrades in equipment, possibly software, and without more patience and practice and forethought. As a larger concept I've given enough thought to settle on the title "The Distance Diaries", and right now they are simply to serve as video blog companions to the regular content on this blog. It's catchy enough that I'm tempted to shift the blog to match... but not quite ready to close the door on over a decade of "dude" simply because I write more about distance than commuting these days. We'll see. What's in a name?

Certainly not EVERY ride will have a video companion - but I'll do what I can. Honestly, I like it - it's FUN and I like the process of editing, mixing (though I'm still not 100% satisfied with this one), and taking raw video and chopping into 500 pieces and putting it back together. I have high hopes and a giant body of inspiration to pull from - namely a lot of WAY more interesting and professionally produced stuff on Vimeo, and my ultimate inspiration "Survivorman" - where Les Stroud sets the bar extremely high.

I've dabbled in the past and thought "what if?" -- and so this is a small step closer - but, I need to invest in something better than a cell phone camcorder to make this a real effort. Further, a/v production is a HUGE time-suck. I told myself I'd only devote a day to mashing this one out, and it took dang-near all it. Further, there wasn't enough raw footage to show a true picture of the entire ride - and, let's face it: sometimes I get down to the business of riding and forget things like shooting video. The coming winter months will make that harder, no doubt, but more material will yield better finished product. Best approach is probably to amass video for multiple rides, and make it a larger project. We'll see.

So, for now, please enjoy:

The actual post about Friday's 200km permanent coming this week --- strangely, that takes more time to edit down. Big surprise!

Thanks for reading!

Five in a row, tagged and bagged.

2011-11-04T17:48:00.001-05:00

Today's RUSA permanent was "The Super Big Gulp", only 201km ... so, the shortest thus far in this most recent "run".

Also, it was a little flatter... but, still - the cooler temperatures and typical adjustments needed to stay on top of cold weather hydration (no major issues, but I know I was behind a couple times) have me feeling --- not sore, but used. A good feeling.

Also, for the first time in almost 7 years, an actual video-blog to accompany the usual droning, lethargic, time-consuming, holy-heck-hire-an-editor written post.

Nothing can prepare you for the most gripping docu-drama on randonneuring since 1962, when George "Slappy" Donaldson strapped an 8mm home movie camera to his rear rack and made cinema history.

Thrills, spills, and suspense that Hitchcock would blush over.

This fall... you will believe....

Stay tuned.

Chasing shadows?

2011-10-31T16:39:00.001-05:00

Training. It's a somewhat alien thing to me in practice, I have to admit. I am starting once again to think about larger goals and with that comes the admission - like it or not - I'm going to have to train for those goals. The slog of intervals, long indoor sessions between loads of laundry when there is snow on the ground, cross-training, carefully following the new dietary plan I'm now six weeks deep into, etcetera. All the while, I have to come to grips with my tendency to go "all or nothing". The same way it's personally hard to stomach missing a few days of commuting, I have to allow myself a few hiccups now and again. Also important is staying injury-free. Nothing sets plans adrift like an injury - so I have to remain vigilant with stretching and making smart choices. I'm exhausted of worrying about things like "fit" and aches and pains... but the reason I do is because I still haven't figured out how to go through life without the bike underneath me - and being forced to figure out what that's like scares me. Thankfully, those issues are fading. Above all else -- patience. Rest means rest, ride hard means ride hard... even if the results aren't immediately apparent.

I have spent the last few weeks stoking the mental fires with inspirational tales read from many other blogs, videos, documentaries - from Tejas 500 exploits to cross-state record attempts to P-B-P, to RAAM, to RAO, Furnace Creek, with a range including epic DNF stories as well as winner's tales; looking for patterns, tips, ideas, thought processes, catch phrases, and things to put way back in the subconscious to dig out later on - when times are low. Among these is a recurring theme that shows my past approach to preparing for something like a 500-mile ultra: I haven't done enough. I see tales of riders "cooling down" before race-weekend with a 400km at a slow pace. I see stories where riders head out for personal 24-hour runs to try and get 300+ miles with as few stops as possible, as check-points in a training season. Sacrifice. Things like my double MS-150 come to mind... overnight permanent rides... laps at Longview Lake at 3AM... it's time to bust this stuff out again. Showing up, paying the entry fee... sometimes that's the hard part: committing... but I've done that before. What I need to do differently is commit with both feet - jump all in... but, still, find that balance to ensure I stay sane... and that the steps on the way to the goal stay fun.

Commitment... no, I haven't committed yet. I'm still leaving myself that "out" - but I have a loose timeline around that notion. I know, personally, that if I haven't figured myself out by such-n-such date sometime in late spring 2012, then I'm simply not serious enough. If some of those early training checkpoints reveal results that don't point towards a finish at the bigger goal, then I have the flexibility to push it out another year. Progression. Learn from the past.

Interim goals are good for the big goal. That was also a recurring theme in the stories I'd read. This is also echoed from people I know personally that have tackled big rides successfully in the past. Have "tiers" and extend them to training. My secondary goal of achieving a 2nd RUSA R-12 is a good step. Another interim goal of completing a full SR-series (200,300,400 & 600km rides in succession) is perfect. The RUSA-oriented goals will help tremendously... but they "stop" around June and the big ride is in the fall. Where I've fallen short in the past is filling that gap between early summer and "goal weekend". Maybe trying to find a regional 12 or 24-hour race is a third interim goal, or keeping the R-12 streak going with longer permanents? ... In any case, these "smaller" goals position myself for the bigger goal and provide a way to measure success if, for whatever reason, the big goal doesn't work out. In this way, one can look at the whole year and NOT fall into depression if all the boxes aren't ticked. Further, take that approach into the ride itself: goal #1 = finish... #2... finish in less-than XX hours... #3... finish before someone else in my age group... whatever you like. Even if I tank goals 2 and 3, the ride as a whole isn't a "failure". Perspective.

The fun factor: setting a goal to have fun is still a goal... slate-in fun, casual, recreational riding to force a slower pace and remind myself why I like riding to begin with. This is easy... rides I'd normally do ANYway, but "use" them smartly to offset the tedium of "training". Being serious about my goals for 2012 doesn't have to mean that I'm no longer having fun, or am no longer considered fun by others... not that I'm worried (ok, I kinda am), but I still don't want to take things SO seriously that I'm worried more about watts and weight than I am about friends and family. Balance.

Technology... on the subject of watts, a lot of the stories I've read from winners of long events show a subtext of a strong, rigid training regime - complete with HR and power-based training goals, plus the expensive equipment to back them up. I have to remember a few things: what is MY goal? Win? Finish? ... the latter, for sure. I'm not certain I can keep things fun if I throw a lot of numbers into the game. Hours at the computer, uploading data, comparing rides. It's hard to hash out this thought process without flopping between "not wanting to really do the full effort" and still being "serious about my goals". Will throwing a bunch of technology at my goals yield better results? Better compared to what? My gut tells me that training for efficiency, training to stay on the bike and moving, training to smile in the face of hardships, training for consistency, keeping myself healthy.... THESE things will ultimately yield a better event and a better me, rather than trying to measure and quantify every last detail. Keeping it simple might entail just knowing how much nutrition I need per lap, remembering to hydrate - which are still things to consider seriously... but I think I have to draw the line on wondering how many watts I'm generating on that last roller after turn #3, for example.

Equipment matters... but it also doesn't matter: another interesting theme, for every winner that crossed the line with top-dollar gear, power-measuring hubs and $1000 carbon disc wheels, there would be another winning story from someone that didn't mention equipment at ALL, wherein I'd come across a photo from the race and see them riding a bone-stock, middle-of-the-road bicycle. This is important. If I think for one second that my fenders are going to slow me down, I have to look at the rest of my training more closely. I am not strong enough or fast enough to have the difference between finishing and not finishing be anywhere on the bike. I'm reminding myself right here and now: save the money, save the hassle, save the heartache... and just work harder. Equipment that's worked for me in randonneuring works fine for whatever else I'm planning. Sure... after 36 hours of riding those "fancy bits" might have put me ahead in my age group... but that's not the prime directive. Run gear that supports a finish... and, conveniently, that's the kind of gear I already run today.

So, how does one become "serious" without being too "serious"??? Structured, but simple?

These are questions perhaps only I can answer. Maybe the answers lie beyond 200km. Maybe the answer is within the 200km... create the template, and run it - over and over - until you reach 500 miles... or 750 miles...

Above all else, though: this time, don't be afraid to execute.

An accomplished ultra-rider created a new ultra-cycling event for 2012 (Ultra Race News - Mt. Rushmore event) and summed it up best, indicating that a good, hard event will strip a rider to their absolute core, showing them themselves for what they are. Maybe, at previous attempts, I was afraid of what I'd find... I think this time around, I'm more confident in the answer.

Clearly, I still have unfinished business... I'm not even sure if it has anything at all to do with the bicycle. I still feel this unmistakable pull towards physical frontiers... distance, effort, suffering... and the smile that comes afterwards. It's not about money, clearly... I've never won a dime riding a bike, and don't plan or expect to. It's not about medals... they are merely "things", symbols of something I've never been able to describe about the rides themselves. The Tejas 500 trophy... if that happens to be the goal I pick for next fall ...is also just a "thing", yes... but I want it because of what it might come to symbolize. Partly, deep down, maybe the drive comes from not wanting there to be something out there that "beat me". I will probably tackle the Knob Noster 200km permanent again even though I'd privately vowed that I would not, for this same reason. Face the demons... remember my failure at the cave.... blah blah blah. Maybe I'm making up for the things in life that DID beat me, things I can't go back and repeat. Maybe I just like the challenge. Maybe I don't know at all what the "why" is. Maybe I am just chasing shadows.

Funny thing, though... this time, I feel like I'm catching up.

Chasing Sunrise

2011-10-14T23:47:00.001-05:00

Okay, enough twiddling about -- this marks the finish of the 4th RUSA randonee in as many months - so, officially, that's a "run". 1/3rd of the way to R-12 #2.

That makes it enough in the bank to provide motivation to get me through the traditionally tough months of November-February in the KC-Area. Game on.

Woke up before my alarm, motivated, ready... ready to race against the sunrise to make sure I had as much time in the bank as possible before the promised NW winds turned the Border Patrol into a death-slog for the return trip. After reading a lot of ultra-racing stories from a recently discovered blog I was mentally stoked with tales of "Scary Gary" and recent Nebraska cross-state records filling my head. I'm not really sure what I expected of myself - but I wasn't going to dawdle much today if I could help it, at least not on the outbound leg. After all - these rides are quickly becoming "training sessions", rather than THE events. More on that later.

I rose to 57ºF on the thermometer, which isn't bad at all -- but, the northwest wind and the recent dry cold front that came with it created a downright chilly feel to the morning air, colder than last month's ride even with the rain being absent! I ate, showered, and reshuffled my dressing scheme to compensate, figuring that I'd rather be comfortable early on and shed layers later. This was a good move... I wouldn't actually feel motivated to remove the extra layers until I only had 22 miles remaining in the ride!

Today was mental -- I knew that the ride wouldn't really start until I was at the halfway point, looking back north. I divided the course in half, and focused only on the first 67 miles that would take me to the turnaround. At 4:01am, I shot back my usual pre-ride 5-Hour Energy, and headed south into the darkness. The moon and Jupiter were paired up overhead, full and bright -- Orion was up also. Jets passing overhead, and powerlines and signposts singing and clanging in the strong winds... which, for now, were helping me along. I settled into a sustainable tempo and proceeded to hold it there - pausing to climb the Col Du Arboretum - for the next 25 miles, arriving at Louisburg at around 5:15am. I took a little break here, as has become habit - refilled the one bottle I drained, a quick snack, and back at it. As I have oft remembered too late, I was happy about my decision to don extra layers here despite the numbers on the thermometer. The big hills south of town and the chilly downhills bottoming out at every creek crossing made it feel much colder than it really was, and I actually felt a mild shiver.

I am mentally reaching a good place with relation to distances on the bike -- I can't quite pinpoint the exact mental training I've been undergoing, but I can think about manageable sections of the routes, as well as the whole thing, and have a feeling of calm about it. My hope is that this will translate when up against longer and longer rides next year. Right now, however, my new approach has managed to "shorten" even the long slog of Metcalf from 199th to 359th from "22 freaking miles" to "only 22 miles"... if that makes sense. Perhaps it's exposure, perhaps its just a mental trick -- but it's working well. It's difficult to type this without sounding like I've lost my marbles... but even the Border Patrol route as a whole, now, seems "short". Like I said, it's a good place to be before putting bigger brevets on the calendar - to get back to that point where you can actually be HAPPY when you mumble to yourself "only 100 miles to go..."

Not looking to wear myself out too much, but still trying to get to the halfway and start making tracks north before the strongest winds of the day came on was the primary goal. Metcalf was over-with, and the highway section from 335th to 359th streets was checked off - afterwhich I stopped at the bottom of the exit ramp for a quick nature-break and a snack. Making good time... Mounted back up, and proceeded to chip away at Jingo Road, marveled at the view of La Cygne power generation plant to the east, all lit up, and made it to K-152 in good time. Big downhill... and checked in at La Cygne, KS at 6:52am... not bad... in fact, only 34 minutes shy of "beating the control opening". Compared to brushes with control *closings* in the recent past, that'll do nicely! I thank the tailwind... which, I was quite sure, would take a fair amount of that time back in the coming hours. I would have been even earlier, but apparently the 7:00AM coal train was early today, so I ate part of my hourly rations while waiting for the train to clear the crossing. I love trains, so it wasn't exactly a hardship having to witness a pre-dawn flyby.

More food, refills, restroom -- hydration going well -- and back on the bike.

Thankfully, the sun was beginning to lighten the sky towards the horizon... a moment where I wished I had a good camera with panoramic ability... the moon and Jupiter were still visible, but the way the light of dawn illuminated the scene was really cool. Serene... Finally, on LN 1095, maybe 10 miles from the halfway point, the sun finally broke above the horizon. Didn't quite make it to the halfway before dawn, but hey --- seeing the sunrise from the road, I'll take it any time.

Finally with the sun up, I could SEE things... including the remarkable fall colors of the hillsides surrounding the valley. Reds, oranges, yellows... all afire in the early morning light and crystal clear air, and set against the brown and tan of the surrounding seas of crops. Birds are singing, hawks are out for the morning hunt, an owl is heard, and a flurry of young deer gallop across the roadway only 1/8th of a mile ahead of me. It's an awesome sight.. but I glance off to the right to make sure there isn't a buck gunning for me. Apparently, word is getting out about cyclists and the deer are taking action. At least in Africa they are... maybe the word isn't out stateside yet.

I am treated to a "semi gravel" ride this time out, as Linn County seemingly is performing some road maintenance on 1095 lately. In fact, it seems a lot of roads are benefiting from some much-needed maintenance this year, including 175th street closer to home. Down here, however, the highway maintenance program seems more aligned with the "Texas approach", and the result is monster chip seal. It's not the worst I've had - and with 28c tires, who's complaining? - but it was definitely gravel-esqe as a large majority of the aggregate hadn't settled in yet. Interspersed were large sections of completely glassly and rubbery asphalt resurfacing, which was alarmingly smooth by comparison. It was akin to riding in the rain and suddenly passing underneath a bridge or overpass, when the rain suddenly stops, but then picks up again on the other end. Most of 1095 is like this now, but it's not bad riding.

...Made up my mind to make a new start, Going To (Pleasanton-ia) with an achin'... in my heart.
Someone told me there's a girl out there with love in her eyes and flowers in her hair.
Took my chances on a (tourin' frame), never let them tell you that they're all the same.
The (sky was blue) and the (road) was grey; I wondered how tomorrow could ever follow today...

Later, after nearing the top of Paris Hill(ton) and passing the Linnville School site, a dog came tearing out of the woods and crossed the road in front of me, giving me a look that said "fear". What the??? A dog running *from* a cyclist?? That's impossible... The only thing that would make a dog run from a cyclist is if there is something chasing the cyclist... or something back in those woods... IT'S GODZILLA!!

I shift, and raise my pace...

More hills...more scenery... a nature break at the Mt. Carmel Cemetery gates, and then Flathead Pass (bonus points if you can figure out how I finally named this hill) reaching over the ridge and then dropping you down some perfect, new pavement as you approach Pleasanton, and the halfway point. 8:27am on the receipt, and comestibles.

Brings me to... nutrition:

This year saw the return to more engineered nutrition on the bike. It's a place I'd been before when consistent speed (as opposed to wicked fast racer speed, to be clear here) was more of a motivation for longer rides. With my sights set on at least finishing another 600km brevet in 2012, I figured it was as good a time as any to examine a return to successful fueling strategies. However, fuel on the bike is worthless unless you fuel correctly ALL the time. Huh?

A little personal history, I've never been super healthy. I like beer. I like comfort food. I like easy food. I don't cook. I'm also a vegetarian... but I'm probably the worst vegetarian you'll ever meet, in the sense that I'm not eating steamed vegetables and wheat-grass. Where there are "steak and potatoes" folk, I simply just eat more potatoes. With ketchup. Added together, I don't eat well on OR off the bike.

I've been doing some homework lately, specifically talking to a personal coach... now, now, now, hold on: I'm not paying for this service. My "service" comes from a friend at work that has competed professionally in the past in another, non-cycling, endeavor that taught her a lot about health, diet and training. I'm taking this as un-cycling biased nutritional consultation. We've discussed goals, methodology, and approach - and since the Monday after the "Mere Two-Hundred" ride, I've been following a fairly structured program that *seems* to be working. Here's a general approach run-down: 85% of most everything is mental... and 15% physical. Of that 15% physical, 85% is DIET, 10% is exercise, and 5% is genetics. So, if you've been making excuses like *I* have, try eating better and see if the results change. Give it a month.

To also be clear, this isn't "going on a diet" - this is diet in the strictest sense of "what you eat". While portion control is important, too, this is more about fueling what you do - not about how much or little you should eat.

The subject of protein came up. Long story short (too late on THIS blog) I wasn't getting enough. I bounced her information off of several endurance sports publications, and the general consensus was clear: no matter what scientific formula I applied, I was not getting enough protein. Side effects? Lethargy, fatigue, physical over-training issues, no performance gains, etc, etc, etc,... a laundry list of the kinds of issues that have plagued past distance rides. I won't get all weird and preachy about this stuff -- but, I'm no longer going to half-(ahem) my approach to personal goals anymore, either. Speed isn't everything - some of the best times I've had on a bike are when I wasn't worried about speed at all. We've been over this. Clearly though, the challenges I have nutritionally have translated into fatigue and slower progress at the end of long rides time and time again, and my goals haven't changed: therefore, I have to change to meet my goals. Even if I stop riding a bike I still need to treat my body better.

After three weeks of getting (though it was tough) the amount of protein I *should*, I have noticed a few things. First: I dropped ten pounds. Second: on hard days, I've managed to post near-record breaking commute times in the evening, into headwinds as opposed to breaking records only with a strong tailwind present. Third: well, the third test was this ride. So... back to it...

Nutrition on the road involved Hammer Perpetuem Solids, Hammer Gel packets, and two Honey Stinger Waffles (yum) that I was testing on this ride. I noticed that I needed something in my gut every 30 minutes... the hunger I was feeling was real. It never cascaded into a bonk, push was consistent - but I was compelled to listen to what my body wanted. As a consequence, I went through my pocket rations faster than I'd wanted to -- but, thankfully, I'd packed more than enough. At the controls, I "behaved" -- tried not to keep my feet on the ground more than 15 minutes a shot. I don't think I took in enough non-pocket food to support the day - something I need to work on when in a hurry. I tried not to just grab random junk food, but that led to not grabbing anything...which isn't good either. Total control-grub ended up being a 1/2 can sized Pringles at Louisburg (when I really began to feel hungry), a single-pack of Fig Newtons and qt. of Gatorade at Pleasanton, and.... uh.... that's it.

So, if I burned something on the order of 6,400 calories and took in (mathmathmath) 1,470 cals between pocket and controls... there's no way to completely replace everything you burn, that's impossible, and not even recommended... but, I only took in an average of 147 calories per hour, then... and that's lower than I should be shooting for, technically. It's a good enough reason to maybe stop into one of these cafe's that seem to keep opening up in these small towns...

Crap, I said I wouldn't bore you with this... sorry!

After leaving Pleasanton for the run back north, it was apparent almost immediately that the 17+ MPH average I built on the trip down was going to be destroyed in a matter of hours. Passing the last of the trees lining the road leading out of town, I was treated to a full face of wind... and it was only to get stronger. It wasn't even 9:00am yet... I was making good time... step on it. I climbed up the back side of Flathead, made my way along Sugar Creek valley, just keeping my head low and moving my legs up and down.

A few more hills, and a brief tailwind section to remind me how much fun I'd been having on the trip south, and I stopped for a quick nature break and photo on a short bridge.

Somewhere on Linn CO. 1095 highway... pause.

I love the band of red in that hillside in the background. Evidence here of the fresh chip-seal/tiny-gravel road surface, and you might notice the roadside foliage in the left of frame is a little "bent" in the breeze. Windy...

It took longer to get back to La Cygne as expected - but not too bad. Turning east, the brief taste of tailwind that would help get me back to Jingo Road was nice. Checked in at 10:15am, card signed, receipt... and back at it. Keep moving... I soaked up the rest of the tailwind on K-152, climbed out of the valley, and hopped back onto Jingo Road. Nine miles...

The Border Patrol is a very exposed route... there aren't many trees to block the wind on a day like this, so I decided to lie to myself. "Nice tailwind today..." I actually muttered it aloud, as if it would sink in. "Now you can make some steam..." I tried to keep my cadence up, and enjoy the fruits of my manufactured "tailwind"...and by jove, it worked. At least, it could have gone far worse. I could have convinced myself that it was futility, and geared down... but I didn't. I repeated; hydrate, fuel...pedal.

I'm not sure I remember a time where I came off of Jingo Road quite so quickly... unless there was a time warp.

The highway section was next, and I made quick work of it also... but, I finally paused at the Rutlader Wildlife area, just off the exit ramp, for another snack....

And if you think it wasn't windy, well... turn your speakers down:

After that video, I regretted the waffle... it was tasty, don't get me wrong... but I felt whipped for a bit. Perhaps too much effort? Perhaps it WAS the calories running low... who knows. I still made it back to Louisburg in decent enough time, and paused to remove extra layers as the sun had finally warmed the air enough to my liking to shed them. Packed up, snacked up, and ready... my old pal Metcalf awaited. Why didn't I make this a free-route permanent, again?

More brain-unplug riding here, I guess... before I knew it, I was back at 199th street and turning west. The wind was there... but, I just worked through it. Apparently my mental trick is shaping up to be simply this: if I don't want to complain about it, I don't "record" it, either. Pedal. Drink. Eat. Repeat.

...go that way, really fast... if something gets in your way, turn.

Antioch... 175th... a short rest at 175th and Murlen, where I just got overwhelmed with "whoa... tired...." and contemplated taking a nature break in front of about 15 houses. I decided against it. Three miles... you can hold it... (ugh).

And... FINISHED.

I knew the headwind would take a toll, but I'll take the result - a finishing average of 15.6 MPH, I can live with. I held it in the 16's until just after Louisburg, but fatigue and that wind simply caught up. I'm very pleased with this one. It felt really good to get out, and despite a minor fit issue (which you are about to read about), I'm feeling pretty dialed-in.

Pain? The immediate ride-finish post prior to this one mentioned some pain immediately following the ride. Ever since switching to the new shoes after the last 200km ride, I had a sneaking feeling this would come up. There was a glimmer at the DSR ride, but I elected not to change anything before the big ride. Cut to today, the pain is completely gone - less than 24-hours later - however, the fact that issues were there at all still indicates an issue. If I'd had 200km TO GO at that point, that would have been bad.

I set up the bike in the trainer and measurements confirmed the suspicion. Not fresh, but it explained the pains. Today, I feel GREAT. A recovery session on the indoor trainer this AM seems to indicate that the problem is taken care of. We shall see; with slow, easy commutes next week, stretching, and perhaps a 100km tune-up sometime before the NEXT 200km. A lesson that when you change shoes (or ANY equipment), don't assume that you can eyeball it. Set up the bike in the trainer and make sure. I got lazy, basically. The main goal here is just to keep things neutral.... I know I've mentioned this "fit" stuff a lot recently, but it never really comes up until a person rides LONG. For most folks, none of this matters. You can be "off" all over the place and never have a consequence... but slap 300 miles on it, and the millimeters make a difference. Okay, enough of that issue.

HEAD-MUSIC....

For some reason today, I was stuck in the 60's and 70's;

I haven't been listening to ANY of this stuff... but for some reason it all kept popping into my head, especially Led Zeppelin, which I haven't actively sought out in years.

She Came in Through the Bathroom Window - The Beatles

On Linn 1095, right at sunrise, something put all three of these song into my head in succession, and in this order.

I don't know what did that, but it happened.

What is and What Should Never Be - Led Zeppelin

Going to California - Led Zeppelin (if there is a soundtrack to this ride, this is it. It came into my head as soon as I saw the sun, and it captured the scene, perfectly.)

Ramble On - Led Zeppelin (and this one, I sang out loud. With the falling leaves, and the autumn moon... it was also, just, so, perfect.)

Moon Shadow - Cat Stevens

Sample in a Jar - Phish (this snuck in, in the last 10 miles...at least getting my brain back into the '90s)

Thanks for reading... stay tuned... November oughta be interesting...

I rode the wrong way

2011-10-13T18:33:00.001-05:00

Another successful "finish" for a RUSA 200+km ride... ya'll better ask me if I want paper, or plastic... 'cause this one is in the bag. WHOO!

Unfortunately, it was not without some difficulty... normally a summer go-to route, the Border Patrol was on tap this time to keep me close to home.

It heads south, on the notion that normally in this area in summer you are nearly guaranteed a nice, strong south tailwind for the return trip.

Today, instead, it was a howling NW wind. Wow. Still, happy with my average, happy with my finishing time.

A little UN-happy with my small revisit to fit issues that showed up late in the ride, probably due to some needed tweaking on some new shoes I'd picked up.

Getting everything cleanly transferred from old-to-new shoes (ala cleat placement) apparently didn't go as well as I'd hoped - so we'll try and get things dialed back in before the next long ride.

Tends to happen - and any time you switch to new equipment it's always an unknown on the first long ride.

Won't take much. I absolutely refuse to get all anal about it, as I have in the past. Everything was perfect on last months ride -- I'm just off a hair somewhere.

Speed and consistency are coming.

Diet is working.

Pain will pass, things heal.

VERY pleased right now...

Stay tuned for the full post.

Dark Side Ride: New Roads... new horizons...

2011-10-11T09:42:00.001-05:00

Ah... the Dark Side Ride... Words don't do it... you HAVE to come out with us sometime.

First off, BIG thanks to Noah for starting the ball rolling on this one and throwing together a GREAT route. Thank the Maker for flippin' PER-fect weather conditions. Thanks to Our Lady of the Devine Mechanical for shielding us from any roadside dilemmas. A great turnout for what was only the 2nd DSR of the year.... maybe the ONLY? Ugh... working on that. Life has been interesting, and even scheduling the longer daytime rides has been tough --- we'll do better. As they say, with absence.... so was the case. I don't think I stopped smiling the entire ride.

Thanks to all that came out -- a great crowd: "Crowbar", Noah Hack-Master D, "Double-R", new-rider Steve, "Wildcat-Al", "Raleigh-Richard", and yours truly.

Did I say the weather was perfect? :)

We meandered around Lake Lenexa, which caught me off-guard in the dark... it was one of those moments where I knew the route, roughly, but wasn't really paying attention. That's a good way to get lost, I suppose... but it also makes for little surprises here and there. The stunning visual of clear, still water extending to eerie lights on the dam in the distance, the bright dot of Jupiter and the nearly-full moon in the sky above... sporadic clouds... and some late-night partiers down inside the park hootin' at us as we passed. I called back with enthusiasm...

Roundabouts and hills came next ... good conversation... and then came 83rd Street.

The theme this time out was punching through the old "barrier" on 83rd Street, a section of road that I (and may of us) had never ridden before because of a non-motorized vehicle ban that had been put in place back in 1999. I remember when the ban was posted - I'd only had a road bike for a couple months, so I'd never ridden on 83rd street. Back in "they day" it was THE way to get to Lawrence on the usual weekend club rides. I even have a book called "Cycling in Kansas City", a joint publication by leaders of the KCBC and JCBC, that heralded that route as one of the best rides in the area. It's always interesting looking up once-popular routes in that book and realizing that a few of them were (until recently) actually illegal ... of course, that wasn't the case when it was published (1996?). I actually had the old Lawrence route bookmarked with a post-it note that read, in black ink, "banned".

I won't get into the details of the ban here, but it was curious, finally riding on 83rd. I'm not sure what I expected - I had initial reactions about it, perhaps a little mental pretension that I'd built up about it... but afterwards, talking about it miles later at the scheduled rest-stop on the western edge of De Soto with Randy, he was right: there's nothing unusual about that road. I could see how a lot of poorly timed traffic and inattentive drivers could cause a problem, but then I did a quick mental inventory: There's nothing that makes 83rd any different than any of the myriad Missouri or Kansas rural highways I've ridden over the past decade. I'm happy the ban was lifted - make no mistake - and again, I won't labor over why it shouldn't have been banned, or what really caused it in the first place. It's history now. But there was this distinct feeling of "uh....okay....?" I will say this: even with the moon barely lighting the scene I was amazed how pretty the outlay is... descending off of a ridge into a wide valley with farm fields on either side, the road gently curving a bit and then straightening out to a nice climb. Not bad. Now that I know I have a choice, I will probably opt for the same old lower-traffic routes I've taken all along, a bit farther south... but, it IS nice to have the choice now, instead of wondering why we "can't".

I'd never ridden on "old" 83rd street through downtown De Soto, either... nice Main street... vintage Ford service garage, a barber shop, firehouse... not bad at all...

Hilly.

Wildcat-Al and I took turns shaking things up on the many climbs here and there, with Steve and Richard joining in the mix as well. I forgot on more than one occasion about the "social" aspect of the ride, guilty of running up the pace on the slightest incline when I'd catch Al or Steve in my peripheral vision. I suppose that competitive fire is still lit, somewhere down in my gut. Not all bad... but, I tell ya: if nothing else, even though I was experiencing some calf tightness that had come on recently, it felt really good to stretch the legs a bit and spike the heart-rate. I'd forgotten how much of a goat Wildcat is! Makin' me work and stuff... whew!

On that note, in previous, recent posts I have made excuses/complained that there aren't any hills in southern Johnson County... and that may be true, save for one or two, when compared to the continuous rollers of the northland - but, WESTERN Johnson County has some hills. I think from a "training" perspective, I've simply been pointing my bicycle the wrong direction. 95th Street, 127th Street... I'll be visiting you again, soon.

Chatted up randonneuring with Steve on Kill Creek Road, heading south -- he's a slender, bearded gent riding a stately black machine, a daily commuter - fresh from finishing the local MS-Ride with the Cutter's team... which is not an easy team to hang with: strong riders, all, as I recall from years past. Just coming off his longest-ever ride from that weekend, it was interesting hearing the beginnings of "what's the next frontier?".... it sounded familiar, from back in the day... that's how it starts! It was fun talking up the long-distance stuff -- helps keep me motivated, and you never know who you might "talk into it". RUSA needs riders...

Later in the evening, after more and more hills, the "short" 30-miler started to feel long... Looking back at the course, it certainly wasn't flat... not even close... but it was a lot of fun! We spun out the last half-dozen miles at a much more relaxed pace, enjoying the scenery, the stars, the lights in the distance, late-night downtempo chill from Noah's streaming audio panniers... and were soon back at the start line. More good convo in the parking lot afterwards, and then I continued the theme with KRBZ FM's usual Saturday late-night programming of electronica as my soundtrack for the drive home. Windows down, cruise control... check.

Whooooof.... I slept well, once I got home.

I love these things - and while absence may indeed have led my heart down a wistful path of "why don't we do these more often??", I have good feelings about the 2012 season. Stay tuned ... this is certainly not the last DSR. There's always November... which, if it happens, might be a "first".

Thanks to everyone that came out, and thanks again to Noah for making it happen!

Dark Side Ride: October 8th!

2011-10-06T12:47:00.001-05:00

Cross-posted from KC-Bike Commuting - check it... got lights? got gear? got dark? go!

First: Go read this. Go now! I'll wait.

What are you still doing here? READ IT!

Done? Good.

Next: Bring your bike, your reflective gear, your das blinkenlights and your helmet to the Wendy's parking lot at Woodland and K-10 Highway. We roll at 9:00 PM sharp, so get there early enough to prepare. If any of you eastern/central Johnson County folks want to ride to the start with me, I'm departing from 87th and Monrovia (Lenexa PD / City Hall) at 8:15 PM.

We'll be celebrating the fall of one of the most infamous bicycle bans in the country by riding through the very stretch of road that's been off limits to us human-powered two-wheelers for the better part of a decade. The route itself is about 30 miles with a mile and a half of relatively tame gravel. With a rest stop somewhere along the way, expect to get back to Wendy's at around midnight, but it might be earlier, depending on the general pace of the group. Bring enough lights and batteries for 3 hours of riding.

This is a no-drop social ride with re-groups as frequently as they're needed to keep us all together. Some of us at the front and back of the pack will be in communication via two-way radio to facilitate this.

See you there!

Reflective gear doesn't matter?

2011-09-26T09:42:00.001-05:00

Looking at my own visibility platform, as many times as I've wondered "is this overkill?", I invariably hear unfortunate news of a cyclist, bicycle-rider (yes, there's a difference), runner, or pedestrian killed or injured while out on the roads after sundown, or before sunrise... or even during the middle of the day.

This time of year the days are noticably beginning to shorten - but our work schedules do not change. We still have to be to work at x:xx, and we leave at x:xx, the same as any day. The weekend riding is still really good. We rise at the same time as always for the group ride... but the sun is lower, or not up at all. The extended shadows and reduced sun angle during the day also warrant some kind of "be seen" equipment, in my opinion. What you ideally want to do is invoke a natural reaction from motorists. How?

Reflective triangle: a lot of companies still have these products mislabeled as a "yield symbol", which confuses and frustrates me: An orange or yellow triangle affixed to the rear of anything moving on the roadway in the correct lane of traffic is the symbol for a SMV (slow moving vehicle). Out in rural areas, where these triangles are attached to the back of any farm implement that ventures onto the road by law, it's simply second nature - and it's respected. There is an instinctive motorist reaction to that particular symbol, and THAT is what you want to invoke. A motorist reaction that keeps you safer. Attach a clip with zip ties and fasten to the edge of your jersey's center back pocket, or use the taillight loop on your seat pack. Weighs nothing. Cheap.

Reflective ankle bands: one of the most immediate and effective driver-response reactions (from the small poll I performed here at work) that there is a human on a bicycle is the up-down motion of those old-school, amber-colored pedal reflectors we all had on bikes as kids. Nothing gets attention faster, and nothing else on the road has this pattern or look to it. It simply LEAPS out of the background on a dark roadway. Unfortunately, most cyclists use some kind of clipless pedal system where these reflectors are absent and simply can't be retro-fitted without difficulty. Reflective ankle bands or straps are cheap, stow easily, can be multi-tasked as pump straps or garmet bundlers on rear racks or backpacks during the day - and if you run NOTHING ELSE, they will at least give approaching drivers the reaction you want: you're a human on a bicycle. Weighs nothing. Cheap.

Reflective vest: a requirement as emergency equipment in your trunk in some European countries because of issues with accidents involving roadside automotive repairs. Invoking a motorists response or reaction? Police wear them while directing traffic. Road crew workers wear them while wresting re-bar only inches from highway traffic.  Dock workers, warehouse workers... are you seeing a pattern here? You should consider yourself no-less-at-risk while riding in traffic than any of these hard-working professionals that put their bodies in the way of large and/or fast-moving equipment every day. It's not a personal shield - no - but thanks to strict government regulations regarding high-visibility safety equipment in the field, the same motorist reactions that immediately attach recognition to pedal reflectors moving up and down is beginning to form with reflective vests. Take advantage of that! Yes, vests weigh something... but not much - Tip: shop for a multi-tasker vest.  While I try to advocate vests are needed ANY time of year, the time of year when you really need a vest is also when it is generally cooler outside... and you need a windvest anyways, right? They can be cheap - but there are deluxe models.

Federal vs. consumer reflective gear? Unlike the DOT or SAE certifications for cars, or the ANSI or EU regs for safety gear, the CPSC regulations for bicycle reflectors and "sport garments" are ONLY a good start. Now, that statement might matter if I saw any reflectors on any bikes at all, which I can't say that I normally do. They're usually the first thing in the trash after arriving home from the bike store. Common responses to all this include, "my jacket has reflective trim". Sure... perhaps it does... but unless it's the minimum 1" to the ideal 2"-wide 3M reflective material you see on ANSI vests, it's simply not big enough to be effective at a distance. You have to consider WHEN you want a motorist to see you, how fast they are approaching you, and how much time that affords them to make a decision about you. Watch the video embedded in this post. It's showing runners, but the message should be apparent. From several hundred feet away that thin reflective piping or edging on your jersey pockets, or the laughable reflective logos under the jersey collar (where your body angle on a bicycle make them invisible anyways) are not enough. Not even close.

"But I have a good taillight..." Again, it's a good start. You need one, period. Brand, price and model are completely un-important here. No matter what you buy, and if you do NOTHING else this post suggests, check to ensure your taillight is properly aimed. Modern LED taillights have been redesigned and tailored to have a good battery run-time, be small, and put out a lot of light. Unfortunately, the technology that goes into some of these LEDs in order to get more light output is not electrical, it's optical. Simply put, the LED itself is like a lens - or it's diffused or focused through a lens. When you do this, the resulting light is very bright indeed, but it's FOCUSED into a narrow beam. You want this beam to point at approaching motorists. Try this test: tonight, lean your bike against a parked car, neighborhood tree, fence, utility pole, whatever... turn on the taillight and walk away from and behind your bike out to about 1/8 mile. Make sure you have a good, straight, clear view of your bike - and that you're on level ground with the bike. If you can't do this at home, go to a big parking lot. The brightest "lobe" of light from your taillight should be clearly visible and directly in your face. This should continue, ideally, back to 1/4 mile, and 1/2 mile (assuming you can still see the bike and have the space to back up that far, of course). Now, walk to one side, then the other until the light fades in intensity. Some good taillights DON'T fade off-axis like this -- but others do, dramatically. The same is true top-to-bottom. If your taillight is aimed even a scant few degrees to one side or another, or aimed too high or too low, the light is not intense enough where you want it. In some cases, it diminishes so much it might as well be switched off. Take extra time to make sure your taillight is well secured, centered side-to-side along the long axis of the bike, and that the brightest beam of light is parallel to the surface of the road, and level. If you can't do this with your existing mount, improvise or find a mount that WILL allow it. Finally, NONE of this is a replacement for good reflective gear. The taillight simply announces to approaching motorists that there is SOMETHING up ahead. Reflective gear, in the beam of car headlights, is often BRIGHTER than your taillight (except in extreme cases with spendy taillights) when cars are within 500 feet. Blinking vs. steady? There is a lot written about this, so I won't get into it here - except to only say that I prefer "steady" mode for taillights, for many reasons.

ADDENDUM: An important fact was brought up in the comments, so I felt it neccessary to add another paragraph or two to this post to ensure you get the message. I made an audience assumption here on the notion that if you're commuting to work by bicycle or riding before/after sunlight you'd be running a headlight of some kind. In addition to having a good, properly-aimed tail-light, having a good headlight is *essential*. This is another area where brand and model are not as important as having SOMEthing, but there are points to consider:

Be seen vs. see-with:
Be-seen lights are generally too weak or diffuse to effectively see your path - but are very attention-getting if aimed level to the road and pointed ahead, or mounted on a helmet. You need something that motorists can see from any forward approach angle, something that says "HEY! I'm HERE! Don't pull in front of me!"  There is a wide array of small blinky LED headlights on the market that easily attach to your handlebars.  Better still, attaching them to your helmet allows you to point the light where you need it, to make an after-dark repair, read a map, check the time, read roadsigns - or flash into an approaching driver's field of view to get their attention.

Lights that you can see with, as you might think, put a lot of light on the road surface so you can see your path and avoid obstacles.  Price IS a consideration here, as headlights can range from $24.99 up to nearly $1,500.00. At lower price-points, the same optical focusing methods applied to make tail-lights brighter works on headlights to put more light on the road where you need it, which is great - but it is at the expense of "spill light". The same off-axis problem is at play here: as a rider, you end up with a focused beam of light that is lighting your path... but almost disappears if you are a few feet to one side or the other. This is important to note, because as a rider you can get a false sense of "visibility" from these lights: just because you can see the road, does not mean a car approaching from a side street can see you... and since their automobile headlight beams are NOT pointing at your reflective gear from this angle, you are invisible. A "be seen" front light of some kind is still vitally important in this case.  If you can't afford a "see the road" light that provides BOTH a good view of your path AND effective "be seen" spill-light, you need to invest in and run both kinds.

Back to reflective vests, and some of the thinking surrounding them; Now, I understand:   racers, enthusiasts -- the logo jerseys for your favorite team, favorite beer, favorite country, favorite state, epic ride you finished, almamater... I understand the pride and attraction of a good quality cycling jersey, especially an earned one... covering it up with a reflective vest seems like a waste - but the facts are simple:   Watch any video you like, look around when you're driving next weekend. From a motorist's perspective, the busy patterns and muted colors often fade into the background "noise". The post-accident phrases that motorists often mutter should be warning enough:

..."I just didn't see him"...

..."she came out of nowhere"...

Don't even let it be a consideration. No, it's not a guarantee. If a motorist chooses to reply to a text message, in the rain, on a curve, on a blind hill, doing 15-over the posted limit; whether you're in head-to-toe reflective gear, or not, it's still a dice-roll. This stuff isn't a shield... but, if that same motorist gets even the quickest flash of reflective light, even for a split second, it might be enough pause for them to wonder "whats up there?", and maybe they'll pay attention just long enough to miss you. If the worst DOES happen and you're lying there in the ditch WITH a reflective vest on - let the police report show what the jury cannot possibly deny. YOU WERE VISIBLE.

ALL of this assumes that you are riding responsibly: just like with a helmet, it's not a guarantee or a replacement for common sense, safe, smart riding. Wearing a helmet doesn't give you license to ride dangerously because "you'll be okay" if something happens. Reflective gear holds the same value. It's not going to make you suddenly safer if you still decide to ride 15-abreast on a 2-lane highway. Think about it, please.

No excuses. Shop around. For a total investment of less than $15.00 (Amazon, package, w/ shipping), there is simply no excuse I can possibly think of that you wouldn't put on a vest or ankle bands or both - day or night - to protect yourself. Fashion? You already look silly for wearing a helmet and riding a bicycle in the first place, right? - so get over it. Neon yellow is the new black. Wear it. No, it's not a personal shield... but if you are someone's mom, dad, son, sister, cousin, friend, roommate, or arch-enemy.... don't you owe them an additional guarantee that you WILL be home?

And , no - I'm not above begging:

Please. It MATTERS. As the sun sets and the dimmer daylight of fall and winter comes on, please consider it. Spend the $15.00. You're worth it to SOMEONE.

Be safe out there.

"I'm on a Road to Nowhere"

2011-09-20T21:07:00.000-05:00

For a change of scenery this time, I turned my sights north. North of the Missouri River, specifically - where things are "different". Kansas City proper tended to grow south after its first century in existence and that's evident in the sprawl that eventually leaked over into Kansas and created the suburban paradise we enjoy today. The northland has had improvements, too - yes - but some of the hillsides and vistas haven't changed much in 200 years. Southern parts of the metro have seen farms and barns disappear, replaced by shopping complexes and housing developments - but up north, the farms still exist and thrive today. The majority of improvements have been limited to the roadways; the old section and farm roads were simply graveled-over, and then paved over. Traffic has stayed light, and local -- so the roads themselves, though paved, haven't been "grade-reduced for safety", for example -- so, if there's a hill, you climb it on the same grade that nature used when it was installed. It's hilly. Quite hilly.

Contrast to Olathe and southern Johnson County... well, once you get far enough south of the river system, things are relatively flat. There are bumps that most cyclists call "hills" simply because there isn't another name for them. I live out where a lot of those hill-shaped obstacles are, and since moving here in 2005 - let's be plain - I've gotten soft. I miss the days of living about 25 miles north of here. I miss riding in Shawnee on a consistent basis. There is no reason NOT to, but "the country" is so much easier to get to - as opposed to riding in traffic all the time, so when I ride I generally turn my sights south. Excuses... I've gotten soft.

Back in "the day", hill climbing was just simply the training that the Warbird and I did - over and over and over, because THAT's where we lived. When we went up to Liberty for the first few big rides back in 2002, things were different - it was hard, but I think we were better prepared. It wasn't about the hills so much as it was about the distance and the acclimation to extended saddle-time. After years of riding where the hills aren't, I can really, really feel the effects of this last ride. I think the estimates are conservative -- something on the order of 6,700+ ft. of climbing in 131 miles. I think it's more than that. The "issue" is that it's all in 1/2 miles long rollers -- just over and over and over. (I love it, who am I kidding?)

There's people out there on their 4th R-12 reading this (maybe) thinking "gads, grow up." I know, I know... it's just remarkable how one forgets certain terrain. I mean, let's face it -- if I'm looking at a 1,200km ride in 2012, or a 48-hour race with a lot of climbing per lap, this is something I NEED to be doing... so, let's call this the "wake up call", shall we? I'm well awake now! This is what's been missing -- so, for some of my riding I'll probably turn my sights north now.

Still, it was a tough day for me.

The ride report... in small, easy to chew mental hunks:

Summer is over. JUST like that. Wednesday last week it was in the mid-90's. Thursday morning it was 47ºF. Friday, steady rain in the forecast, no sun, and wind. Compared to riding in 100F+ heat only a month before on the last 200km ride, this was going to be interesting. The old adage: pack everything. The monster duffel bag is out of storage again!

We like wool. Easing the blow was the notion that I also got to unwrap all the late-season wool stuff again. It's a treat to wear on days where you're looking at 50's and rain, so I layered up - conservatively, so as not to overheat. With this stuff, you don't need a rain jacket .. but for some reason I packed it anyways.

The alarm bell rang at 3:00AM. Gads... the ride didn't start until 5:00AM, but I had almost an hour drive ahead of me to get to the start location on time. I instantly regretted planning a ride so far away from home and wondered if it'd been better to have driven in the night before and camped in the van with a sleeping bag. The ride that has its first control only a mile from my house looked really good... because I could've slept for another hour. Drag outta bed... crawl to the kitchen... liquid breakfast of Carboplex and Hammer Gel, hot shower, dressed, and off I went. Yawning... a lot... as I drove.

I hit the parking lot at a smidge before 4:00am.... and the restaurant that was supposedly 24-hours was closed. Grrrrf... so much for a hot breakfast send-off like I'd planned... 45ºF on the bank clock across the way, and almost a full flag of wind blowing across the parking lot. Yikes... it's still supposed to be warm, right?? It's not October yet.... c'mon. Mental... ignore it... I dozed off.... SNAP! whoa... don't do that! It's 4:15.... I doze off again... 4:19.... This repeats almost every 3-4 minutes until 4:50am, and with each alarming self-wakeup I notch the thermostat on the dashboard a little closer to the hot side. A mild shiver. What the heck?... chilly... ugh.

5:00am... the restaurant doesn't open until 6:00am, so even starting late and using the first "gimme" hour (not recommended) to eat something hot wasn't in the cards. I drive across the way to a just-opened C-Store (for some reason completely missing the freshly relocated 24-hour super-grocery behind me, which I noticed later in the afternoon!) grab a couple things, and get a receipt for 5:06am... close enough. I park, unpack the bike, and proceed to forget everything in succession. This starts a cycle of "shut van door, pack keys in seatbag, mount bike, remember something, dismount, unpack keys, unlock, grab "forgotten thing", re-lock van, pack keys, remount, roll five feet, remember something else, roll back, unpack keys...." for about five things: my helmet, then my gloves that I left on the seat of the van after getting helmet, then the cue sheet, then my phone, and finally remembering all of my back-pocket bonk-rations for the day. So used to getting ready in the garage and RIDING to the start, I'm completely befuddled by the cold, the dark, the new location... it's like I've never done this before, and thankfully I managed to remember EVERYthing within a few yards of the van at most, instead of at some unfamiliar turn 15 miles away. The guys smoking by the dumpster waiting for their boss to unlock the back door of the restaurant must have gotten a kick out of that scene. It was now 5:30am.... for cryin' out loud, let's ROLL already!!

Frustrated... tense... annoyed, even though it was all resolved... still yawning... and cold. Good way to start a ride.

Pedal... pedal... pedal.... holy crap? The first few turns don't even require a cue sheet, I'm so familiar. I can navigate Liberty, MO. by bicycle blindfolded -- but, I don't remember this hill... do I? Good lord... Yep, right road... houses look familiar... dude. I stand up on the pedals.

That notion would continue for a few dozen miles as I re-familiarized myself with the topography. I passed under I-35, and out of the eerie pinkish/orange vapor-lamp glow of the last streetlight within the city limits.... Plattsburg Road. Now at least I couldn't see the hills coming.

Good things about hills in succession... just exercise the zipper of your wind-vest; up... then down.... opposite to the grade at hand... and the chills of the early fall snap disappear. Precious body heat to the rescue! And, a bit of a rhythm develops... time to shake the cobwebs out of these legs and remind them where the work is done. Oh, and drink... hydration went well this summer... but I remind myself to keep it up, even though it's not hot. Easy to forget.

Drip... drip....drip..... the first couple rain drops hit my face.... here we go. Not even an hour in...

Upon reaching the intersection of Plattsburg Road and Route C, I stop for a snack. I keep walking the line between minimalist, and having some sort of handlebar bag mounted. Today, where it would have made a lot of sense, I didn't have it mounted. Buried under two layers, and fingers rendered clumsy by thick wool fingers, I found myself stopping to eat my 'tween-control rations. I suppose that's okay -- stop, look around, rest a minute. The standing-time adds up, though, and makes for a long day. I fight mentally with the whole "eat on the move" philosophy versus the "smell the roses" philosophy... but the increasing rain reminds me I have larger concerns ahead. The wool is working, and I have a tailwind for the moment - the stowed rain jacket stays put and I rely on the raised collar of my wind vest, and my new RUSA-logo'ed EU-compliant and P-B-P legal reflective vest. Fifteen miles in, the sun has apparently come up because the sky has lightened, and nine-to-go until the first control in Plattsburg, MO. Roll.

Highway C is quiet today... the notion that weekend traffic will be lighter is once-again dispelled. On this Friday morning, the 'rush-hour' traffic will probably stay on the main highways and I'll be able to ride in the clear. Here's hoping... this nine-mile stretch sticks in my memory as a pretty busy road. Today the road is largely empty. That's nice.

The rain is steady, and I slowly become soaked. Upon cresting a couple hills, I can see my breath as vapor in the cooling air. It lifts a little at Plattsburg, so I can do my control routine in the dry, which was welcome. Stopping after being wet, though, leads to shivers. Going to be a long day. housekeeping attended to, I'm back on the bike and headed north - out of town. Out of town of any kind for a while...

I had forgotten how empty things become north of Plattsburg, MO. Before long, there are no cars, no signs of life - save for the occasional darting dog, but that even only happens twice in 15 miles. The rain is constant now... not showing signs of slowing, no clearing in the distance -- just an endless sea of grey. The only glimmers of color that remind me it's still "summer" come from wildflowers soaking up the rain on the roadsides. There is a bird or two that sings out... it's not all bad out here. Memories of harder times up this way dart in and out of my thoughts. Memories of good times and good friends sharing those times up this way add to the interplay of brain waves, mixed with a constant din of music played from my internal storage. The playlist is especially long today - an indication of how much I'm trying not to think too hard about what I'm doing out here.

Highway NN... and uncharted territory: I stop here for another face-feed stop, trying to open a zip-top bag with wet woolen fingers proves mildly comical. A few snacks... I consider donning the rain jacket, but am already too wet to have it make much difference. "Nah."

A passing car makes a left turn towards town, the passenger gawking out the window - either in personal disbelief, or confirmation of my idiocy.

I blurt out something from Monty Python, and aim my bike west towards ... well... nothing.

The hills on highway NN are remarkable.

I am treated to several historic cemeteries, some old farmhouses, and an old truss bridge that is slated for Missouri's "Safe and Sound" bridge rehab program next year... might be the first and last time I see that old steel-work on this route.

"...what a drag, these hills are gettin' old...." to the tune of the 'Stones classic Mother's Little Helper.

I check off landmarks... highway K.... highway VV, with a laugh (lots of letters at this intersection.... NN, VV, K, O, arrows pointing everywhere)

Right about the time I start playing the "I know I haven't made any turns but am I on the right road anymore??" game, the road comes to a T, and the correct turn awaits. (whew) .... the rain, having increased from "hmm" to "whoa" in the last hour, does not make happy-fun-time for bonus mileage.

After finally deciding (as if it would make a difference) to don the rain jacket, having another snack and generally considering my situation, I mount up for the journey north on Highway 31 towards Easton, MO. -- I catch a smell, a good one, as I pass through town - like a barbecue joint or something... but I don't see a storefront to match. Roll on...

More hills. Less stuff. Another thing I forget about these northland rides is the scarcity of services between controls. Unlike another couple routes I frequent where you're nearly guaranteed resupply of some kind every 20 miles (something I've gotten used to), this stretch was going to approach double that before I'd have a chance to get out of this rain. That started playing on me at the intersection of US-36, where I'd make a decision.

The first of many decisions. Let's see... turning around now would net me a century, right? I haven't committed to anything, right? Ugh... it's NOT that bad out here, dude... hang in. Eat something. Drink something. Legs? Still attached. Sore... Stomach happy. Brain weary. The hanging mist from the truck traffic flying by in the heavy rain, my foggy glasses, all stood to represent the noise in my head --- "this is nuts," I muttered aloud, chewing on a block of something or other. "suicidal..." Carefully, I cross the four lanes of the highway to the opposite side... "there's gotta be a better way..." (there isn't)... at least there is a shoulder. Ugh... I swallow hard, take a drink, turn on the backup taillight to double my candlepower to traffic, and mount up. It's only 2 miles... there's a good shoulder.... it's downhill for a bit... a slight gap in approaching traffic... hit it!

Hoping that my visibility would be in good standing on such a day, it frustrates me to no-end that people still drive their cars in the rain without turning on their headlights. Wipers on? Lights on! C'mon, people, I'm wearing an awesome vest for ya here!

The only place on the road where shoulder disappears... reminds me of OK-51 on the old Tinbutt route in Stillwater, OK. ...is where the road crosses a branch of the Platte River. Not looking forward to riding in the lane on a major US-highway in heavy rain, I check my six for traffic -- I've got JUST enough time... SPRINT!!! Safely back on the shoulder again after the long bridge, traffic roars past in a cloud of mist again... whew.

The hills on highway Z are remarkable.

More mental music... I play the "maybe the wind is dying and I won't have a headwind for the return" game.

I also play the "maybe the rain is letting up" game, and laugh when it actually starts to fall harder. Could be worse.... more food, more drink. Don't leave anything on the bike this time -- the forty-mile jaunt is taking a while with all my roadside breaks, and this is no time to run short of hydration or calories.

The road twists and turns... more mental games: there are no paved options, I haven't made any turns, haven't seen many intersections... but, for some reason on a brand-new-to-me route it's difficult to avoid that sudden rush of anxiety that comes with the realization that Missouri doesn't like to spend money on road signs. Uhhhh..... where the heck is the next road? Cue sheet... trip computer.... I shouldn't be there yet, oh THERE it is!

Cosby, MO... nice little town, and look - there's a neat old bell in front of that chur... POTHOLE!!!!!! (bunnyhop) The adrenaline rush takes me over the cool old Platte River bridge, and the next 4 hills.

Stop raining...

(make me)

The last couple hills are teasing me... never gonna get there.... never gonna.... EUREKA!

The Avenue City store, and it looks like I made it to the control still in sight of the lead group. Two bikes are leaned against the building, taillights still flashing into the grey rain... and then I remember that I'm out here alone, and must be hallucinating. I'm not, though ... the bikes are real: a Raleigh M300 and a very nice Rodriguez touring model. There are panniers everywhere, and inside are their owners enjoying the same respite from the rain that I seek. As if there weren't enough walls of delineation between people as it is, the scene was a perfect tutorial on how to tell a randonneur from a tourist. I was on target to get about the same amount of mileage today as they were, but I had barely anything with me. Of course, they were coming across the country from Seattle! We chatted for a bit while they wrapped things in the plastic trash bags they'd purchased, and I ordered a sandwich and settled in for a drying-out period. This would be one of the longest control stops I'd ever logged. I rolled wool gloves into newspaper, hung up layers over various air-vents near the bottoms of pop machines and coolers, and tried to fight the urge to sit down. I figured as long as I was standing up, I wasn't quitting. Halfway --- all I have to do is get back on the bike and pedal towards home. I ate chips, drank hot coffee, ate a great sandwich, drank water - and finally, after almost an hour, started packing up for the return leg.

Drying things out was only a mental maneuver. The rain continued - but the layers closest to my body, under the rain jacket, were now warmer and drier than they were when I'd arrived.

The return trip seemed to take forever... more of the same as the outbound, but more dream-like. I don't know if the effort of the day was checking me out, or if the rain and the grey was playing tricks on my psyche... but I caught myself "waking up" after certain sections of road. Never in peril - never startled awake by traffic or similar (thankfully), and truthfully and to be clear - never actually "eyes closed asleep"... but certainly daydreaming, and definitely unplugged for sections of the return ride. I suppose this is a special place if you can manage it safely -- the miles are no longer occupying, discouraging, or daunting.. you just pedal, and eventually arrive. I knew upon departure from Avenue City that I had until 5:30pm to make the last control, just under 40 miles away - so, for once, I took the computer's display off of "time", and onto distance only - just to mark the turns and show progress. The clock no longer mattered. Just ride. Honestly, I'm lucky I didn't pass any turns - so much of the ride was heads down, I kept noticing things on the return legs that I simply hadn't seen on the way out... and therefore kept getting caught wondering if I'd passed a key turn.

Thankfully, no bonus miles!

I stopped a lot on the return leg, too. Hydration was on-par, because a lot of breaks became nature breaks, too. I'd eat, look around, marvel at the views... and the silence. It was eerily quiet. Occasionally, I'd hear a large farm implement or a big door close, perhaps a shotgun blast or similar (hunters?) way off in the distance, but little else. Hey, wait, the rain stopped... cool... when did that happen?? A car approaches, and stops - an older lady asking for directions. We chat for a bit, and she drives away. At least, I'm fairly certain I didn't imagine that part.

I stop again at NN and Y for a snack. Having stared at the road for so long on this heads-down, grey, rainy ride - I notice a strange optical illusion occurring when I stare up at the clouds and their features... which appear to be racing away from me towards a central vanishing point, no matter which direction I look. The air has weight to it, the silence feels thick... but open... the noises I'm making, like simply zipping up a jacket, seem so LOUD. ...the dream state continues. I have half-a-mind to check the ingredients list on my back pocket snacks... such strange goings-on!

I quietly slip past houses, farms, and gravel side-roads, inching towards Plattsburg once again, nearly seven hours after I'd left it that morning. My rolling time was respectable - despite the rain and hills and slight headwind on the return I was still averaging 16 miles per hour rolling, but only just - but, my total time was adding up. Never in danger of missing a control closure, but definitely taking the "tourists" approach to the ride today. I hit Plattsburg and ducked inside to warm up and eat.

I spent a little time here, too, chatting with the locals behind the counter - or at least eavesdropping - and with an older gent that stopped in for a cup of coffee. I ate, warmed up, hydrated, and tried to get my mental game up for the last 25 miles of the ride. Once there.... and after realizing that I'd spent a simply GUILTY amount of time at the control (not as bad as at the halfway, though), it was time to go. The amazing thing... 20-30 minutes of trying to build up the mental stockade was erased, utterly destroyed, in about 500 yards. I came around the bend, felt the wind and the first few drops of new rain, and my heart sank.

Strangely and atypically, I allowed myself only a couple seconds of this pity party. Internally, I told myself something to the equivalent of "shut up and ride", and did just that. I got after it a little, instead. Nothing earth-shattering or record-breaking, but I did work. I started checking things off, and the usual suffer-fest that is highway C on the return route was done in good time. Next up, Plattsburg Road. 15 miles of "I don't remember ANY of this" on tap. The Liberty route that comes and goes via this remarkable road always makes me chuckle a little. Every single hill seems different, a surprise, where's this come from?, etc. Even on this umpteenth visit, it's remarkable.

Big ring fever strikes... I attack climbs instead of limp them. I don't know where it's coming from, but it's there. I channel good-ole 'Ort', from the '05 season... when you're tired of riding, just ride faster... Never made sense until now, and today the reserve tank would be squeezed dry from the effort. In the last 10 miles of the 131 total I logged, I made up a couple tenths of MPH average. I'm happy... but, I'm sore, and I pulled the threads out of one of my cleat bolts. Oh well.

Cold, wet, exhausted -- I'm finally back at the van, back at the restaurant.

Check, please.

This was good training... and I'm looking forward to injecting more hills into my regular riding. I'm happy with the average, happy with my clothing and food choices - perhaps the only criticism I'd give myself is spending too much time NOT moving... but I'm not certain I care there. Even with the extended stops, this was certainly not my slowest overall time on a ride of this distance. I'm already exceeding personal expectations compared to the 2008 run in that regard, so if I have a little fun and slack off at a control (especially when riding solo), so be it.

Notes for next time I need to get that handlebar "feedbag" mounted up again. The thick gloves, multiple layers, and rain made it risky to try and fish for food from the pockets as I rolled - too risky to fumble something else, like a cue sheet or phone, in the process. So, we'll make that happen.

Overall, a good finish ... but MAN... earned. I'm beat.

Songs in my head:

I don't wear headphones or earbuds while riding - I try to keep the mind open to frolic. Just from exposure to the music l normally listen to, it's interesting what sneaks into my head when the music is actually turned off.

Some of these I heard last week, some I haven't listened to in years.

Somehow, climbing a hill or just staring at the road, they pop in there.

I try to find good quality official videos - but often fail; where that happens I try to make sure the track is at least intact.

Enjoy:

uh, zoom zip - Soul Coughing (highway double-N became "double-M", which is a lyric from this song)

Don't Play No Game That I Can't Win - Beastie Boys feat. Santigold

Smoke and Ashes - Tracie Chapman

Go it Alone - Beck

Enjoy the Ride - Morcheeba (yes, again)

My Mathematical Mind - Spoon

Mother's Little Helper - The Rolling Stones (it is indeed a drag, gettin' old.)

Road to Nowhere - Talking Heads

Thanks for reading... stay tuned...