Pottershop. A nasty section of road leading into Bardstown, KY. 3 major climbs and two bonuses, peaking at 24%. I've failed to successfully climb this road twice. I would not fail a third time. From a stop sign the road goes about 50 feet and then become a wall.
Yesterday was the clubride version of Pottershop. Unlike the Old Kentucky Home Tour version, where Pottershop is placed at mile 96, on the clubride version it comes before lunch at mile 46.
For the first leg, I took it easy, falling in with the second pack of riders and enjoying some light conversation, talking up some of the upcoming roads with people who didn't know the area "No, we haven't actually been on any hills yet" "You, sir, have been misinformed"
After the first store stop, as we roll out I take a position in the front of the pack and start getting the legs warmed. I want them to be used to putting out some extended effort. Myself, another solo and a tandem start creeping away from the pack and then separating from each other. The other solo glides off the front and, despite our yelling, misses a turn, leaving the tandem and myself as the front two bikes. A series of rollers has the tandem slip out of sight, and checks in my mirror show no signs of the pack behind me.
I spend about ten miles traveling alone on my way to meet my foe. Steady effort keeping the legs working, a few out of the saddle efforts on climbs. I stop for a minute to flip and refold my cue sheet. Three more miles. A sudden realization that I'm actually coming to the road from the opposite direction than I had expected. Cool.
Quarter mile. Downshift and glide in. Right turn. HILL! Ease into it. Don't attack. Keep the cranks turning over. Half way up the first hill, false flat (it's still actually 8%), pick up a mph or two, keep the power steady. Top of the first climb. That's the second hardest one. Pick up speed to help carry you over the first bonus. Downhill. Work the legs a bit to loosen them. Second climb. keep it steady, don't work it too much. That's the easy one, it only peaks at 18%. Long downhill. Don't bother bombing it. Stretch the back and shoulders. Climb three. It only peaks at 22%, but is the longest, with a half mile 3% false flat splitting the two steeper sections, curving around hiding what's coming next. My legs are tired, my back is aching, I'm climbing this hill, dammit! I get passed right before the final crest. I tell him I was beginning to hope that I would be the first solo bike to make the end of the road, and then call him a skinny bastard. The final bonus is nothing at this point, just a 5% grade to get up to the main road.
Heavy traffic on this road. small climb. then bomb down hill...what is that? what is that! The road ahead looks weird. It's been torn up to repave! traffic behind me, can't slow down. this is gonna hurt....Blllahluhluhluhluh! It's only a quarter mile section. Catch the tandem ahead. and go to lunch. Other riders pull in right behind us so we have a good size lunch group.
As we roll out from a decent paceline works into a headwind to get out of town. a series of stiff rollers splits the group again. I join in chatting with another rider for a few miles and then get joined by a couple more, including the guy who passed me back on Pottershop. We're rolling on having a nice conversation and beginning to look forward to the final stop and begin talking of ice cream and hopes that there will be some to be had. I quip that there won't be any to be had if I get there first, which get slammed with a reminder of there being another hill between us and the store. Challenge accepted! A quick dash in a futile attempt to catch a green sign gets a good head of steam going to the hill. The one rider outpaces me, but mirror checks confirm that I'm keeping the other two at bay. At the top, a long flat is laid ahead with the other rider about a quarter mile up. spin, spin, spin. 23, 24. I think I'm gaining. 25, 26. He's within reach. We scream into the parking lot at 27 mph. I'm up maybe half a wheel length. We all eat some ice cream. Other riders join us at the store and we all gather up and ride the last 12 miles as a group.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Saturday, June 25, 2011
About Weight
Let's just go ahead and get this out of the way: I'm a big guy. A tad over 6' tall and currently 232lbs.
And that weight is a vast improvement over what I was just 2-1/2 years ago. 295. Ouch.
I like food. I love to cook. I also enjoy good beer and whiskey (okay, pretty much all fine adult beverages)
Interesting thing is, in the winter I lose weight and in the summer I gain it. Cycling season means weight gain. Yes it's muscle. Yes my body shape is still improving. Yes I'm getting stronger and I can climb hills better, I'm faster. I can finally reach the drops on my road bike.
My belts are out of holes, my pants are falling off of me. My shirts are all baggy. My boxer-briefs, on the other hand, are getting a bit tight around the thighs.
I still want to get back into my favorite suit. I weighed 185 when I bought it. Best I can tell I still need 2 more inches off the waist. Considering the current muscle makeup of my body is drastically different from back then, I'm guessing I might fit back in at 205 or so, if I keep the muscle and lose the fat.
But my main gripe about gaining weight is the fact that, even though I'm stronger, I still have to drag that weight uphill. If only I could lose fat as quickly as I seem to be able to pack on muscle. Sigh.
And that weight is a vast improvement over what I was just 2-1/2 years ago. 295. Ouch.
I like food. I love to cook. I also enjoy good beer and whiskey (okay, pretty much all fine adult beverages)
Interesting thing is, in the winter I lose weight and in the summer I gain it. Cycling season means weight gain. Yes it's muscle. Yes my body shape is still improving. Yes I'm getting stronger and I can climb hills better, I'm faster. I can finally reach the drops on my road bike.
My belts are out of holes, my pants are falling off of me. My shirts are all baggy. My boxer-briefs, on the other hand, are getting a bit tight around the thighs.
I still want to get back into my favorite suit. I weighed 185 when I bought it. Best I can tell I still need 2 more inches off the waist. Considering the current muscle makeup of my body is drastically different from back then, I'm guessing I might fit back in at 205 or so, if I keep the muscle and lose the fat.
But my main gripe about gaining weight is the fact that, even though I'm stronger, I still have to drag that weight uphill. If only I could lose fat as quickly as I seem to be able to pack on muscle. Sigh.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
I'm just not that mad!
My bicycle club, the Louisville Bicycle Club, puts on a challenging series of centuries every year called the Tour de Mad Dog (TMD), it's 21 stages, two of which are shorter Time Trials, one flat and one uphill. Other than the TTs, all times are fictitious. As a way to encourage people being social, times are based upon the size of group you finish with, you need six in your finishing group to not incur a penalty, with the winner pulled randomly from all who finished the stage. There are also difficulty bonuses (for longer or harder routes) and bonuses for having crap attached to your bike (or carried on your back) that are also drawn randomly. All these "times" are added up and at the end of the event used to award the yellow jersey winner and the white jersey for best young (under 24) or new (never completed the TMD) rider. I really want the white jersey. I've stated it as my goal since before this tour started.
Up until today I was running second for the white jersey and I knew the white jersey leader wasn't going to make this stage. I didn't ride. I really wanted to. This stage would have been my longest bike ride ever: 140 miles. It would have been my most climbing in a ride ever as well: listed at 11,000+ft (though gps tracks tend to place it a bit lower than that). Completing this ride would have given me good insight into how well my training is going for the gravel event I have in October.
About 14 riders showed up at the 6am start, but only 10 rolled out of the parking lot. A line of strong thunderstorms was putting on a pretty serious light show and headed to intercept. The 4 of us watched them roll out and hung around in the lot for about 20 minutes, watching the radar and waiting to see how bad it was going to get. By the time we felt the first drops, the flashes had already started surrounding us. It was going to be a rough day. The rain was heavy. I've ridden in worse. The lightning, though, I've not pedaled through a storm that electrifying. I don't want to.
Have I lost out in my quest for the white jersey? Maybe, three of the people chasing me did ride. Two of them will pass me today, assuming they don't have something preventing them from finishing the ride, one of those had stated that they will have to miss later rides, so who knows. I may still have shot at white.
I had earlier in the season considered abandoning if I wasn't in a position to take home white. Abandoning requires missing more than four stages in a row, or failing to complete back to back stages. I've abandoned that idea. I've decided this will probably be the only year I try to complete the TMD. Not that I won't continue to ride the rides, but that if I miss some I won't worry about it next year. I'll take home a finishers jersey, white or not, and be proud of the accomplishment. Chasing White or Yellow requires both luck and a level of madness that I just can't compete with.
Up until today I was running second for the white jersey and I knew the white jersey leader wasn't going to make this stage. I didn't ride. I really wanted to. This stage would have been my longest bike ride ever: 140 miles. It would have been my most climbing in a ride ever as well: listed at 11,000+ft (though gps tracks tend to place it a bit lower than that). Completing this ride would have given me good insight into how well my training is going for the gravel event I have in October.
About 14 riders showed up at the 6am start, but only 10 rolled out of the parking lot. A line of strong thunderstorms was putting on a pretty serious light show and headed to intercept. The 4 of us watched them roll out and hung around in the lot for about 20 minutes, watching the radar and waiting to see how bad it was going to get. By the time we felt the first drops, the flashes had already started surrounding us. It was going to be a rough day. The rain was heavy. I've ridden in worse. The lightning, though, I've not pedaled through a storm that electrifying. I don't want to.
Have I lost out in my quest for the white jersey? Maybe, three of the people chasing me did ride. Two of them will pass me today, assuming they don't have something preventing them from finishing the ride, one of those had stated that they will have to miss later rides, so who knows. I may still have shot at white.
I had earlier in the season considered abandoning if I wasn't in a position to take home white. Abandoning requires missing more than four stages in a row, or failing to complete back to back stages. I've abandoned that idea. I've decided this will probably be the only year I try to complete the TMD. Not that I won't continue to ride the rides, but that if I miss some I won't worry about it next year. I'll take home a finishers jersey, white or not, and be proud of the accomplishment. Chasing White or Yellow requires both luck and a level of madness that I just can't compete with.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Beastly Pain
I'm a cyclist...or more accurately. I'm a guy who likes riding bikes. I've got three of them: a black 2008 Jamis Coda hybrid (which gets ridden shockingly little), a blue Motobecane Fantom CX (which gets the majority of my mileage) and Beast.
Beast was a 1999 Trek 930 I picked it up off CL in '08. It had barely been ridden, still wearing its stock tires. I used it as a beater, throwing racks and fenders on it and heading to the grocery and beer runs. It saw quite a bit of use this winter when I decided not to fix my truck after it died.
I removed the stock tires shortly after purchasing it, as the sidewalls looked a bit sad and put on some cheap Kendas I had never used that came on yet another bike, a long dead BSO. Later I decided that during the warmer months, when snow or ice wasn't to be expected, I'd like to have some proper road tires for Beast. A set of Kenda Kwests were picked up at my local shop.
Despite 2 years of use the bike still barely had 450 miles on it.
I started to read about how much fun people were having riding on gravel roads. "Gravel Grinding" they call it. A group of local riders calling themselves the River City Cycling Society, started posting about their leisurely, yet epic, gravel rides. I wanted in. Time to wake up Beast.
A new, rigid Surly 1x1 fork was ordered, as gravel, while rough, doesn't need suspension, and the stock suspension wasn't really up to having me man-handle the bike. New bars, levers and cables were ordered. I caught a great deal on some very expensive tires Schwalbe Racing Ralphs and Nobby Nics, all with lovely red stripes and in 2.25" widths.
It's coming together, it feels good, I can get it to move down the road fairly well. I changed the cassette for one with gears spacing more appropriate to its use. It still had not seen gravel.
Then my mistake. I saw a posting about a gravel road race. In Minnesota. I have friends I'd like to visit in MN. It's "free", as in I don't have to pay a fee to race, but transportation, food and lodging all cost. By attempting to enter a race, can I call myself a racer? I sent in my postcard, assuming I wouldn't actually get drawn. I got drawn. I'm a racer. shit.
Okay, fine. I'm in. Originally the logistics of the race (I'll just call it an event from now on, as I'm about as likely to win, as I am of getting abducted by aliens) included getting a chance to resupply at the halfway point. Good. I already know I can ride 50 miles non-stop carrying everything I need. The only thing I was worried about was making the 10 hour cutoff time. on a mountain bike. on gravel.
Further looking at the expected conditions of the course: about 6 miles of singletrack and muddy stuff it is. The 2.25" tire shoved into the back where a 1.9" tire was supposed to go. No mud space. The search for an appropriate tire for the rear led me to two options: Panaracer Fire XC Pro 1.8" or Kenda Small Block 8 1.75". Neither is available in the States. I could only find the Kenda in Australia. Shipping was insane. The Panaracer I could get from Great Britain. I could also get it in a red striped version that kinda matchs the Schwalbes. I'll take two please, and a downtube mudguard, as the others I have won't clear the meaty Racing Ralph up front. A second set of wheels so I can easily switch between slicks and my "event tires"
The skinnier rear tyre means a bit less cush in the back. The current saddle will never cut it for 100+ gravely miles. I'll need a Brooks. With Springs. Flyer in Black, please. I check with a couple local stores. All out. They call the distributor, they're out of stock, too. I check a few of the webstores I frequent. All backordered. I finally find one, at a pretty good discount and free shipping, too. It'll be here next week.
Now I find out the event organizer has decided his event isn't tough enough. Why coddle these riders by offering to haul their gear to the halfway point? Make'em carry everything they'll need for 100+ miles. Yeah, that's the ticket. No outside support. Crap!
By my estimation, I own $500 worth of cycle luggage: panniers, handlebar bags, rack packs, saddlebags, bento boxes. And that doesn't count another $150 worth of ranks and brakets to mount them all. Make that $560. No combination of bags I have seemed quite right. Make that $600, no $615. Three new bags on their way.
Still more training and testing to fine-tune the setup. Beast has passed 1100 miles in a short period of time and so far it's still not seen gravel. But I have learned one thing: Free races are expensive to ride.
Beast was a 1999 Trek 930 I picked it up off CL in '08. It had barely been ridden, still wearing its stock tires. I used it as a beater, throwing racks and fenders on it and heading to the grocery and beer runs. It saw quite a bit of use this winter when I decided not to fix my truck after it died.
I removed the stock tires shortly after purchasing it, as the sidewalls looked a bit sad and put on some cheap Kendas I had never used that came on yet another bike, a long dead BSO. Later I decided that during the warmer months, when snow or ice wasn't to be expected, I'd like to have some proper road tires for Beast. A set of Kenda Kwests were picked up at my local shop.
Despite 2 years of use the bike still barely had 450 miles on it.
I started to read about how much fun people were having riding on gravel roads. "Gravel Grinding" they call it. A group of local riders calling themselves the River City Cycling Society, started posting about their leisurely, yet epic, gravel rides. I wanted in. Time to wake up Beast.
A new, rigid Surly 1x1 fork was ordered, as gravel, while rough, doesn't need suspension, and the stock suspension wasn't really up to having me man-handle the bike. New bars, levers and cables were ordered. I caught a great deal on some very expensive tires Schwalbe Racing Ralphs and Nobby Nics, all with lovely red stripes and in 2.25" widths.
It's coming together, it feels good, I can get it to move down the road fairly well. I changed the cassette for one with gears spacing more appropriate to its use. It still had not seen gravel.
Then my mistake. I saw a posting about a gravel road race. In Minnesota. I have friends I'd like to visit in MN. It's "free", as in I don't have to pay a fee to race, but transportation, food and lodging all cost. By attempting to enter a race, can I call myself a racer? I sent in my postcard, assuming I wouldn't actually get drawn. I got drawn. I'm a racer. shit.
Okay, fine. I'm in. Originally the logistics of the race (I'll just call it an event from now on, as I'm about as likely to win, as I am of getting abducted by aliens) included getting a chance to resupply at the halfway point. Good. I already know I can ride 50 miles non-stop carrying everything I need. The only thing I was worried about was making the 10 hour cutoff time. on a mountain bike. on gravel.
Further looking at the expected conditions of the course: about 6 miles of singletrack and muddy stuff it is. The 2.25" tire shoved into the back where a 1.9" tire was supposed to go. No mud space. The search for an appropriate tire for the rear led me to two options: Panaracer Fire XC Pro 1.8" or Kenda Small Block 8 1.75". Neither is available in the States. I could only find the Kenda in Australia. Shipping was insane. The Panaracer I could get from Great Britain. I could also get it in a red striped version that kinda matchs the Schwalbes. I'll take two please, and a downtube mudguard, as the others I have won't clear the meaty Racing Ralph up front. A second set of wheels so I can easily switch between slicks and my "event tires"
The skinnier rear tyre means a bit less cush in the back. The current saddle will never cut it for 100+ gravely miles. I'll need a Brooks. With Springs. Flyer in Black, please. I check with a couple local stores. All out. They call the distributor, they're out of stock, too. I check a few of the webstores I frequent. All backordered. I finally find one, at a pretty good discount and free shipping, too. It'll be here next week.
Now I find out the event organizer has decided his event isn't tough enough. Why coddle these riders by offering to haul their gear to the halfway point? Make'em carry everything they'll need for 100+ miles. Yeah, that's the ticket. No outside support. Crap!
By my estimation, I own $500 worth of cycle luggage: panniers, handlebar bags, rack packs, saddlebags, bento boxes. And that doesn't count another $150 worth of ranks and brakets to mount them all. Make that $560. No combination of bags I have seemed quite right. Make that $600, no $615. Three new bags on their way.
Still more training and testing to fine-tune the setup. Beast has passed 1100 miles in a short period of time and so far it's still not seen gravel. But I have learned one thing: Free races are expensive to ride.
Of Rye...
Hmm...a blog. Do I need a blog? Do I even have any intention of letting anyone know that I have a blog? The answer to the first is: Probably not. The answer to the second is eerily similar to the first.
But it could be nice to have somewhere to organize my thoughts...we'll find out.
But it could be nice to have somewhere to organize my thoughts...we'll find out.
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