Thursday Thoughts: Belgians

This year’s edition of the vaunted French pharmaceutical and bicycling extravaganza starts on Saturday.  That will be the “prologue” stage.  It’s being held in Belgium.  The stage will be a typically Belgian “suffer party.”  It starts out flat, but coastal.  Coastal rides in Belgium are flat, windy, and likely to be chilly and rainy.  (Punish the climbers.)  It’s a long stage, 191.5 km, about 119 miles.  Then it turns inland and starts climbing.  (Punish the sprinters.)  It will take a hardman to finish this one close to the front.

I like that about he Belgians.  They don’t avoid tough stuff.  Instead they seem to seek it out.  They are, generally speaking, fanatic cyclists, and purists.  (Long time readers will remember my friend Johann.  He’s an occasional contributor to this blog and very much a Belgian.)

Belgium is a country about twice the size of the state of Connecticut.  It has a population of 11 million.  Every day close to 4 million Belgians ride their bicycles to work, to the market, and for simple pleasure.  That is 36.4% of their population.  (NOTE:  Belgium is in northern Europe.  The weather there is not that nice!)  If an equivalent portion of the US population used their bicycles every day, 127.3 million of us would be riding.  In fact, we have only about 2 million regular cyclists, and most of them don’t use their bikes for any kind of utility activity.

My friend Johann is a fairly typical Belgian sports cyclist.  He is 5’7” tall, and weighs 170 pounds (1.7 meters, 77.3 Kg).  He can bench press a pickup truck.  His daily commute is 31 miles.  One way.

You may have seen Johann at any number of the local group rides.  He doesn’t talk much.  He always arrives early.  He stands quietly over his bike until ride time.  At the beginning of the ride he sits in, riding with calm assurance.  Once the group leaves town he moves carefully up to the front, and then simply rides away.  He always completes the entire ride, and is usually the first or second to arrive back at the start point.  He shakes hands with anyone who is present then, and then simply rides off to go home.

Johann has one very interesting talent.  I’ve seen this on any number of occasions.  He likes to ride in bad weather.  On a really nasty day, Johann looks as wet and muddy as anyone else, and yet his bicycle looks showroom clean.  At the end of the ride, he will look as mud-caked, wet, and gritty (but somehow never disheveled) as anyone else.  He will exhibit a stoicism about this, and a level of enthusiasm for it.  He enjoys it.  Then, ten minutes after the ride, his appearance has changed.  He is somehow clean, dry, and fresh.  I don’t know how he does this.  It’s a Belgian thing.

Hills on hot days

There is the climb.  The road is scorching hot.  It’s so hot that the soles of the feet are stinging inside the cycling shoes.  There is the climb.  The heat is bearable, as long as there is movement.  But hills require greater output, generate more heat, and worse, they slow the rider down.  There is the climb.

Sol shines down, and there is no shade.  Whatever wind, breeze there is dies away, and it begins.  The climb.  Suddenly the sweat pours from the brow, and drips into the eyes, stinging, blinding.  It doesn’t matter.  Not much eyesight is needed at these low speeds.  Every hill is steeper in the heat.  Save the water.  Just a few minutes longer.

The climb.  The grade eases a bit, and then the hand goes to the water bottle.  More than half blind.  Don’t dare descend like this.  A shot of water in the helmet and another on the brow.  A quick dab with the bandana and the eyes are clear.  Take a drink.  Secure everything.  It’s time to descend.  Speed picking up, it’s like the air conditioner coming on!  Another gulp of water, and settle in to the descent.

Johann speaking here.  I am thinking that Road Dragon is saying a lot here.  I am sorry I have not been here to say anything for a long time.  It has been a time of much action for me.  I am back now.  It is good to be again in Georgia.  It is good to see so much people riding the bike.

NOTE:  Johann the Belgian spent his Winter in South Africa, training.  He then went to Europe and spent the Spring racing.  Johann is a sometime contributor and commentator on this blog.  Welcome back, Johann!

The Repurposed Bike (discussion)

The Repurposed Bike (discussion)

Why?  (Please refer to last Wednesday’s post )  I know that question is being asked.  The answer is not quite so straightforward.

When a customer is considering a new bike purchase, I often give the following advice.  “Buy the 80% bike.”  That means purchase a bicycle that is a close match to 80% of the customer’s intended usage.  Usually the customer will find that that 80% is closer to 95%.  A lot closer.  Further, there is almost always a bike on the market that exactly matches that usage requirement.

The question could be asked:  Why am I not taking my own advice?  Well…

The overwhelming majority of road bikes on the market are closely inspired by racing machines.  That is not necessarily a bad thing.  But it doesn’t make them good for my purposes.  I want clearance for fenders, and enough braze-on eyelets for racks and fenders.  It’s extremely difficult to find a bike with those characteristics.

“Surely there are tourists on the market that would suit?”  Well, there are tourists available.  They are intended to be loaded tourists.  They come with two problems.  They tend to be heavy and expensive.  (NOTE:  I already have a tourist.  I do use it as a commuter on occasion.  It’s not ideal.)  Tourists are heavy because they are built to carry the rider and a load, and do so while taking a beating.  This is less a problem with a tourist.  In the case of loaded touring, the bike is usually the lightest part of the total load.  (Rider + 80 lbs of gear + bike = total load)  I’m not looking for a super-lightweight here, but I don’t want a “lead sled” either.

Many bike manufacturers have presented commuter/utility bicycles.  That’s good to see.  But they don’t quite fit my commuting style.  Most of these bikes are variations on a flat-bar, comfort bike, or sport-hybrid theme.  They are too upright and too…  Well, too flat-bar.  They are generally ideal for short trips in an urban environment.  That doesn’t quite describe me.  My commute varies from 12 to 18 miles one way.  I may make side trips to pick up groceries or run other errands.  I climb a lot of hills.  I’m out in all kinds of weather.

It has been a very long time since I bought a bike specifically to alter it and make it into something else.  Here’s the bike in question. 

The (soon to be) Repurposed Bike

It’s a Giant Escape 1.  At least it is for now.  I think this is gonna work out.  You’ll see it develop.  Stay tuned.

Upcoming and Oncoming

Man!  We have just about used June up.

Allow me to be the first to wish you all a very merry Christmas.  (It’s now less than six months away.)  Time to get those lists made, and start shopping!

On a more immediate note:  It’s exactly one week until the 4^th of July.  If you haven’t signed up for our local parade, get on it!  (If you are somewhere else, why not see about riding in your parade?)

Novice Mountain Bike Ride:  Yup!  It’s this week.  Tomorrow, in fact.  I won’t be there, but my coworker, Ty, will be.  Have you been putting this one off?  Why?  It’s a lot of fun, and you’ll undoubtedly learn some cool stuff.

Funnest Road Ride in Georgia:  Happens in just two and a half weeks.  That’s 14 July.  We’ll meet and depart from the municipal parking lot, in Helen, GA.  Ride starts at 8:00 A.M.  (I know that’s early, and it’s remote, but there are good reasons for this.)  I’ll post more on this soon, but start planning now.

Also Rapidly approaching:  These are a bit more distant in time, but will be here fast.  Mid-Summer’s Eve Night Ride on August 1, and Triple Gap Route Ride on August 4.

Are you having trouble riding?  Does the “every afternoon thunderstorm” interfere with your recreation and training?  Grab a rain jacket and go!  Get off of the road for the really intense stuff, but go ride in the rain!  It’s actually pleasant, and it’s going to happen sooner or later, so you might as well start doing it by choice.

A good safe week to you all.  It’s Prime Time!  Go out and ride!

Friday Follies ~~ Ring?

I don’t understand cell phones.  Seems our whole society is talking on them at all times.  I’m not sure why, or what everyone has to talk about.

Some years ago my family switched from “the brick” to several smaller phones.  Of course, by today’s standards these were pretty large.  But for the first time, we had truly portable phone devices.  My thinking was that these things could provide us with more security.  They would make it possible for any of us to summon help when away from home.  In those days, one of us was in grad school at nights, and the family cars were not so reliable.

I also intended to include one of the phones in my gear when I was riding a long brevet.  I reasoned that, it would be a good idea to be able to contact folks if trouble arose.

I was facing a really tough ride, on a new to me, route.  We would start riding in Dalton; the route would take us north, up into the Smokies.

I should emphasize something.  The phone I packed was not really a pocket sized device.  I packed it in the randonnee bike’s capacious tour bag, and forgot about it.

A few words about that bag.  It’s English.  It’s astonishingly waterproof.  It can carry a lot of stuff.  No matter how it’s packed, the thing you need now is on the bottom, under everything else.  The bag has two convenient side pockets.  Things that are not too large, and needed often can be packed in the pockets.  The bag is magical.  Anything that is stowed in a pocket will not be needed.  If the item is needed, it will have somehow managed to move into the main compartment, on the bottom.

The ride had started, as all US brevets seem to, in the wee-small hours of the morning.  We’d wandered around the route, gradually working northward.  The approach to the town of Dahlonega included several long steep climbs.  Then we were out of Dahlonega and heading up to Woody Gap.  That’s the opposite direction from the most common way to handle that gap.  It’s a very long climb, and quite steep.

I’d just settled in to doing the work of the gap climb.  I was not feeling particularly good.  I’d been on the bike for four hours.  It was getting hot.  The cell phone started ringing.

I had to stop to answer it.  I had to stop on the climb!

I don’t like to stop while climbing.  Let me rephrase that.  I hate stopping before the top of a climb.  The restart hurts.  The steeper and longer the climb, the more the pain.  It is difficult to bring the bike to a controlled stop on a good incline.  It is much more difficult to support the bike while rooting around in bags and such.  And the re-start is especially hard.

I was a good mile into an eight mile climb, when the noise started behind me.  At first I didn’t get what it was.  Then I recognized it.  The phone!

I drag the bike to a stop on the scanty shoulder and turn around to find the phone.  (Still ringing.)  Unbuckle flaps.  Open rain fly.  Dig through clothing, food supplies, rain gear, tools, spares…  I’m strewing my belongings all over the roadside.  There it is!  On the bottom.  (Still ringing.)  I grab the thing and it goes silent.

In those days the phone did not identify a missed call, and did not store numbers.  Or if it did, I had no idea how to work those features.  Best be safe.

I punch in the home number.  Waiting.  Waiting.  My wife finally answers.  She has no idea who called.

I pack everything back up, and resume my climb.  Ouch.

A mile and a half goes by.  I’m settling in to it, my rhythm firmly re-established, when…  The phone is ringing again!  Yike!

Jam on brakes and yank the bike to the shoulder.  Dismount, clumsily and painfully.  Turn.  Unbuckle flaps.  Open rain fly.  Dig through clothing, food supplies, rain gear, tools, spare.  Strew belongings all over the roadside.  Yes!  On the bottom.  AGAIN.  (Still ringing.)  I grab the thing and it goes silent.  I growl.  I pack everything again, making certain that the phone is near the top, and remount.  Ouch!  Pain!

Most of a mile goes by, and…

BRRRRTTTING!

Stop!  Spin!  Open bag!  Strew clothing and gear!  Got it!  Hit “Answer.”

My shop was hosting an event that day.  The lady on the phone was a good and sweet person who had volunteered to work the event.  She thought she was at the right place, but no one was there.  Where should she go?  (I forbore the giving of a theological answer.)

In the weeks and months prior to this weekend, I had known the event was coming, and I had known I would not be involved.  I had entered this event, the one I was riding, over six months before.  So I had not informed myself of the particulars of the race that the shop was hosting.  I knew absolutely nothing, had no access to anything at the time, and had no way to be of any help to this lady.  I told her that.  I also told her I was not at the shop or home as I was, as we spoke, riding in another event, and climbing a godforsaken mountain!  I hung up.

Something nagged at me.   I had a feeling that this was not over.  I was also concerned about the limited battery life of the phone.  So I stuffed the bulky thing into a jersey pocket, repacked, remounted, and restarted.  Ouch!  Ouch!  Pain!

I spent a mile cursing.  I rode another mile re-settling myself.  I was nearing the final climb to the summit.  My head, heart, and legs were in harmony again.  I…

BRRRRTTTING!

I screamed in frustration!

Stop the bike.  Drag to the shoulder.  Dismount.  Spin.  Unbuckle.  Yank open.  Strew clothing and gear.  NO PHONE!  “Oh crap!”  It’s in my jersey pocket!  Reach.  Lunge.  Fumble.  Answer.

“Steve?”  the nice lady said.  “I can’t find anyone.  I’ve tried calling everyone I know, and I’m here, and it’s more than an hour after I should be here.  What should I do?”

I drew breath for a sharp reply.  Then expelled it slowly.  “Dear lady,”  I replied,  “I am, at present on the side of a mountain in north Georgia.  I don’t know where you are.  I don’t know where they are.  I don’t care where anyone is.  Have a nice day.”

I hit the disconnect button.  Then I turned the phone off.  Then I removed the battery.  I should be given extra points.  I did not throw any of that into the woods.

If I ever meet Alexander Graham Bell, I am going to kill him.  Twice.  Slowly.

Thursday Thoughts: Finesse

Do you ride a bike?  Regularly?  Are you under the impression that everything about it should last forever?  Reasonably, you don’t expect parts to last forever, but are you convinced that they should last longer than they do?  About now, long time readers will be expecting me to launch into a maintenance sermon.  Surprise!  I’m not going to do that.

The other half of the solution.

Good maintenance most certainly will improve the longevity and function of every part of the bicycle, but it’s only half the battle.  What remains?  Riding technique.

I know folks who, at best, could be described as indifferent bike keepers.  And yet they get excellent mileage from things like chains, cassettes, deraillers, and wheels.  On the other hand, I know some highly detail oriented, obsessively thorough, skilled, and absolutely immaculate bicycle maintainers.  And these latter have nearly constant troubles, and they leave a trail of broken or worn parts behind them.

The explanation for this apparent contradiction has everything to do with riding style.  Rough riding breaks parts, or wears them out.  It’s that simple.

First, let’s dispose of some myths.

Myth 1)  “I’m heavy so I break wheels and stuff.”

Bologna!!  I know plenty of lightweight riders (down in the 150 to 170 pound class) who manage to break far more than their fair share of stuff.  Conversely, I know some near 300 pounders, regular and avid riders, who manage to get outstanding longevity.

Myth 2)  “I can’t afford the more expensive, higher quality parts.  The really good stuff would last me longer.”

‘T-ain’t necessarily so, maggee.  If you’re breaking Tiagra™ and 105™ you’re really not going to like the price of tearing up Ultegra™ and Dura Ace™.  (You may substitute your favorite SRAM or Campagnolo groupsets as you wish.  The principle is the same.)  The thing is, the high-end stuff is aimed at racing.  Racing parts are, ultimately, designed to go really fast, for a short period of time.  The more entry-level stuff is actually a good bit stronger.

Myth 3)  “I like to ride hard and fast and get a really good workout, but that puts more strain on the bike.”

Not so.  Plenty of fast riders around (some of them extremely fast) who manage to have a minimum of mechanicals.

The heart of the matter.

We’re driving at something here.  If maintenance is a given, then the next biggest factor in long and reliable bicycle performance is how the bike is ridden.  Simply put, finesse riders get more out of their bikes.

But what is meant by finesse?  There are lots of elements.  One involves shifting.  Are shifts made smoothly?  Does the rider ease off on the power during the shift, and then come smoothly back “on the chain”?  That would be a good technique.  “Power shifting” or “shifting under load” is a fast route to driveline failures.  The chain, cassette cogs, chainrings, and to a lesser degree the deraillers all perform better and last longer if they are shifted smoothly and with minimum impact.

Force doesn’t cause damage, impact does.

Try this little thought experiment.  Imagine placing your finger on an anvil.  Now gently rest a large hammer on the finger.  Not comfortable, but not damaging.  Leave the hammer resting on the finger for ten minutes.  Still no damage.  But that is an application of force.  Now, suppose that, instead of resting on the finger for ten minutes, the hammer was dropped on the finger from a height of about six feet.  Damage and pain!  That is force too, but applied with impact.  And, oddly, in the second example, the total force was less than in the first.  (We’ll spare ourselves the physics and math part of that demonstration, but please accept it.  It’s true.)

Limiting Impact while riding:

Shifting:  This is a big one.  Power shifts hurt the bike.  On the upshift, if power is not reduced before and during the shift, the chain slams into place.  That’s impact between the chain and gear, and that impact is transferred to the rear wheel, the hub bearings, the spokes, the rim, and to a lesser extent to the chain.

This effect is worse on the upshift (going from an easier gear to a harder one) but is still present on the downshift.

About downshifts.  If they are done before they are necessary, as in climbing, then they will be smoother, and less impacting.  (They will also yield fewer problems and “mechanicals” as a result.)

Bike handling:  Impact occurs when there is any kind of a jolt or bump.  Our roads are not everywhere smooth and silky.  Expansion joints, broken pavement, potholes, deep milled “wake up rumbles,” any kind of bump or irregularity in the road surface can cause an impact.  The force of these impacts can be greatly reduced if the rider exercises good technique.

Good technique requires attention and execution.  Look ahead.  Note an upcoming jolt and ride around or past it, if at all safely possible.  If the jolt has to be taken, flex the legs slightly to raise yourself out of the saddle.  (This isn’t the same as standing, but rather, the butt comes just out of contact with the saddle.  Allow the arms to relax.  Then let the bike “float” as it transits the jolt.  The rider should move forward in a straight and unbroken line as the bike moves smoothly up and down over the roughness.  If the rider is bumped up or down, the bike has received an impact.

Light hands on the bars.  Do not grip, twist, pull, or “row” the bars.  Such torsion force eventually fatigues the bars, headset bearings, and frame, and it wastes rider-energy that could be used to move the bike forward.

Smooth is Fast:

Changes in the bike that are applied smoothly, without jerks and jolts, actually are faster than abrupt and impact-generating ones.  More, jolts fatigue the rider much faster.  The fastest riders are smooth.  Their shifts are silent.  Their bikes do not rattle and clang over bumps and jolts.  They don’t waste precious energy in battering their bikes, but rather use it to move.

But what if one is not interested in speed, per se?  I would answer that in two ways.  Given no overwhelming concern with speed, then why the need for hurry?  Why, in that case would a rider batter the bike?  On the other hand, the same smooth, low impact, techniques that are fast, can also be efficient.  They result in going farther for the same energy, or completing the intended distance with the least fatigue.

We have all experience it. There are those riders, mounted on older and less advanced equipment, and yet they are nearly silent in their actions.  At the same time, there are those who have some of the latest and most fancy stuff, and they constantly sound like a percussion section.  Is it the components?  Truly, that is unlikely.

Bears a bit of thinking about, doesn’t it?

The Repurposed Bicycle

I don’t know exactly when the word “repurposed” came into the English language.  The first time I encountered it, I understood it at once.  I’ve been doing that with stuff, particularly bicycles, almost all my life.

My first real bicycle, beloved Schwinn of memory, was a sort of Pee Wee Herman special.  It had a big gas tank kind of affair that housed batteries and a horn.  It had a headlight, a bell, fenders, a tail light, a chainguard, and a large basket.  That basket was the first thing to go.  Later, I removed almost everything except the basic bicycle, and used it to invent mountain biking.  Still later I remounted the basket, added a pair of pannier baskets, and entered the world of commerce, throwing newspapers.

One of my treasures is a necklace that my daughter made.  She took the jockey pulley out of worn out antique Campagnolo derailler, used hemp to macramé it to a leather thong, and made it into a necklace.  She wore that thing for several years.  Now it’s mine, and more precious than gold.

Regular readers will be aware of some of my other projects.  There have been numerous fixed gear conversions…

Last year's contest Grand Prize

And of course my FrankenFixed…

The FrankenFixed

These are bikes that started out as one thing, and ended up as something quite different.

I’m currently engaged in another kind of repurposing of a bicycle.  This time I’m starting with a brand new bike, and converting into something the manufacturers never envisioned.  I’m working toward a vision of mine, aiming at fulfilling a purpose and solving a specific problem.  In other words, I’m having fun.

The Problem:  I need/want a more commuter specific bicycle.  Specific to my kind of commuting.  I want to stop beating up my road bike.  It won’t carry fenders.  Currently, if I’m commuting I have two choices for carrying stuff.  One, ride the tourist (heavy!), or two, pack all my stuff on my back.  Here are the criteria:

• Handle a ride of between 11 and 25 miles one way, over varied terrain, and road surfaces (including dirt)
• Be reasonably light
• Capable of mounting a rear rack and panniers
• Capable of mounting fenders
• Comfortable road bike feel
• Fairly simple and economical to maintain.
• Reasonably inexpensive

This just may be the stuff of many future “Friday Follies”!

Ride Report: Solstice Celebration Night Ride

Bon été! Good Summer to you!

The Summer Solstice Celebration Night Ride took place last night.  We have emerged from our town and “beat the bounds of our home.  This ride is our little way of marking the change of the seasons.  Spring is over, and Summer begun.  Today is the longest day of the year.  Here we begin the long slow slide, each day losing a little bit more daylight, until the darkest and longest night on 21 December.  (For you Celts, Beltane was 5 May, and Lughnasad will be 7 August.)

We had a good group assembled for the ride.  An amazingly big group.  In fact, too big a group for me to have “captured” everyone’s names.  Lot’s of them!  Jan, Jen, and Judy and Bob, and Bob (another one), Dan, and Ed, and Jim, Lisa, Amanda, Teresa, Kelvin, Chris and Chris, Walker, and Scott, Van, and Jeff, and Guy, and others I know I missed the names of.  (If I didn’t mention you, I’m sorry, but I wasn’t taking notes or calling role.)  Riders had no equipment issues, all in good order, and off we went!

This is an interesting night ride, as it starts in the broad light of day.  At the Solstice a 7:30 P.M. start is bright and temps were still quite warm.  Old Sol did not leave our sky until 8:51 P.M.  The dusk, or Civil Twilight continued until 9:20 PM.  Most of us found we wanted to illuminate just about sunset, and this is a good safety practice.

At first we encountered the usual hustle and bustle of Peachtree City evening traffic.  This dropped off a bit as we climbed over the infamous Rockaway Road hills, and dropped to almost nothing as Senoia fell behind us.

I’m happy to report that this year Coweta County did not see fit to remove any road surfaces on our route.  We had pavement all the way around, and most notably, on Minix road.  Last year, this was not the case.  It was good to make those particular climbs on pavement instead of lightly oiled sand and gravel.

It’s fun to be out at night.  Riding in the dark has a special feeling to it.  In one sense, the world closes in around the rider.  Nothing exists except the bike, and what is revealed by the headlights.  In another sense, the world opens up and is seen quite differently.  Glance away from the lights, look to the side for a moment, and the eyes adapt.  The woodlines are a wall, but the sky is more visible and the stars shine down.  Headlights pick out the glow of staring animal eyes.  The world becomes calmer as the automotive traffic (finally) settles down for the night.

Of course we manage to replace a lot of this with laughter.  The most unlikely things become funny.  There was a lot of laughter among the crowd.  (The group was big enough that I was not able to share in all the jokes.

We were blessed with a spectacular sunset, and clear night skies after.  This year we did not have the horseflies.  However, something large, insectile, winged, and buzzy managed to get scooped into my helmet.  It was bad enough that I had to remove the helmet and shake the monster out!  (This while riding!  Not pleasant!)

We had no major incidents or issues.  Yes, a couple of people did manage to drop chains while shifting, but in every case correction was quick, and they were able to rejoin without much hassle.

Turin looks lovely at sunset, and Tyrone is delightful at night.  We stopped (briefly) in Tyrone to allow for snacking, clothing adjustment, and water bottle changes.

It stayed remarkably warm throughout the ride.  (NOTE:  I consumed over 2.5 liters and felt no urgent need to visit a toilet.) 

The Official Stats:

Distance:  44.5 miles

Rolling Time:  3:10

Stopped Time:  14:49

Total Time:  3:24:49

Rolling Average Speed:  14.05 mph

Folks, thank you all for joining us.  I’d ride the same (or more) with any of you.  Can’t hardly wait for the Mid-Summer’s Eve Ride!

Rumors of my demise are exaggerated

Before going any farther, it is imperative to state this, and state it most positively.

The Solstice Celebration Night Ride WILL go as scheduled tonight!!!  I will be there and will lead it.

I know there has been some concern expressed in several quarters about that.  Fear not.  All is well.  Good.  That’s done.  Now on to some explanations. 

Last week, I took a fall and cracked a rib.  That happened on the Tuesday Night Novice Mountain Bike Ride.  By Thursday evening, I was feeling sore, stiff, beat up, and generally not up to par.  I mounted my bike and started to ride to the Novice Road Ride.  Along the way I was noticing that I felt even worse.  I should emphasize, I was not in terrible shape.  I just felt crappy.  The legs were not there, the breathing was labored, and I felt far below optimal condition.  So I decided to take some of my own advice, and take a pass on the ride.  I called the shop and spoke with Ty, asking him to inform riders that I would not be present.  I was not deathly ill, nor in danger of expiration, but had simply decided (wisely I think) to take some of my own advice.

What happened:  I know that three or four of the members of my vast audience of six or seven will be most interested in.

At our Novice Mountain Bike Ride we start with a lap or two around the outer loop.  This part of the trail is really mostly very gentle.  The group present were doing well.  I was the lead rider.  I let my enthusiasm carry me away a bit.  I got well ahead of the group.  I was riding solo, and moving right along. 

There is a small section of the trail that transits a mud bog.  (Currently the “mud” is dry.)  Several things happen at once in this section.  The trail “bottoms.”  That is it goes from a gentle descent into an equally gentle ascent.  At the same time it turns sharply left, and then through a tree gate, sharply right.  That was where it happened.

I got crossed up in the gate, dropped my front wheel into a “wheel eater” rut, one that was exactly sized to stop my front wheel.  I pitched off of the bike to my left.  I was moving at a pretty good rate, but not tremendously fast.  The result was that a rather large tree whacked me in the ribs.  It hurt.  I shook myself off and continued the ride.

Other circumstances:  I have been working pretty hard lately.  It’s been very busy in the bike shop.  (We’re very glad of that!)  I’ve been engaged in a lot of fairly heavy home repair.  I’ve been doing a couple of other very physically demanding projects.  As you all know, it’s also been pretty hot out too.

Now I like hot weather.  But like it or not, heat does stress the body.  Take all of that together, and by Thursday evening, I was simply not fit to ride.  I’ve been taking it easy and resting a lot since then.  Thank you all for your concern.

I will be in good shape to lead the ride tonight.  The weather forecast is good.  Let’s go out and have some fun with it!

NOTE:  In case you’ve been under a rock, ride details are included below.

SEASONAL NIGHT RIDES:  We’ll be meeting at different venues, and doing different routes for each of these.  The object is a group ride, but one that stays together.  We’ll be starting out in daylight, but the sun will go down while we’re out, so good night gear will be required.  Required equipment will include, good strong lights, capable of running for at least three hours; a strong tail light; reflective sash or vest; reflective ankle bands; helmets.  Expect to cover approximately 45 miles, in about 3 hours.

Solstice Celebration Night Ride

When:  Monday 20 June, 7:30 P.M.

Where:  Fredrick Brown Amphitheater parking lot

Date:  Monday 20 June

Time:  7:30 PM (sharp)

Distance/Pace: approx 45 miles, about 3 hours

Requirements/Conditions: Group will stay together.  Headlights, taillights,

reflective sash or vest, reflective ankle bands, Helmets.  Dress for the weather.

Ride goes Rain or Shine.

Friday Follies ~~ Cold!

It had been a hard Winter, and was then only in the early part of February.  Much more to come.  We’d been through a long stretch of rough weather.  The pattern had been evil and relentless.

It would warm, just slightly.  The daytime highs would inch up to just above freezing.  Then it would get cloudy, chilly, and nasty out for a day.  Then the rain would start.  It would rain (mixed with freezing rain) for four to six hours.  The rain temps would drop and the rain would turn to snow.  A lot of snow.  The storm would pass, and the high that followed would leave us with clear sky, but also with plunging temperatures.  The cycle would repeat.  Each repetition of the pattern would take four or five days.

I rode.  I rode when I wasn’t digging out from the latest snow.  I rode in the awful rains.  I rode (but not well) in the snow.  I rode the rollers.  I rode on the bitterly cold clear days.

The day came when the pattern seemed to break.  The clear cold gave way to slightly warmer days, but it didn’t cloud up.  I conceived an idea born of Winter madness.  I would ride out and visit the top of “my mountain.”

I call it my mountain, not because I own it, but rather because I’ve always had a deep connection with it.  I’ve climbed it on a bike, and on foot.  I’ve driven to the top on many occasions.  I’ve stood on the ultimate summit and stared deep into the night skies.  I’ve watched the Sun rise from that summit, and watched it set there.  On two occasions I’ve seen the “green flash” at sunset, while standing on that summit.  It is a place that exists and pulls at me.  I need to go there.

At that time, in that Winter, I felt the pull, the need.  I hadn’t been on a ride longer than an hour and a half in over a month, and I could not remember when I’d last been up in the high country.  The roads were clear, and while it wasn’t exactly warm, it wasn’t too cold either.

I was in motion even as I was deciding to go.  I grabbed a small loaf of bread, a chunk of cheese, and stuffed them in a jersey pocket.  I filled two bottles, pulled on some more clothing, pumped tires, and I was rolling.

The approach ride was 16 miles long.  It warmed me and cooled me.  Each hill was a bit warmer than the last.  I pulled my jacket off and tied it around my waist.  The short fast descents, between the banks of plowed snow were bracingly chilly.  (That should have been a warning.)

I passed an entrance to the George Washington National Forrest, and the climb began in earnest.  I noticed that the sky had cleared completely.  I gave thought to what a clear and perfect day it was to summit my mountain.  Then I was focused on the long hard climb.

The climb was good.  The first part had me moving in and out of sunlight, and I warmed wonderfully.  But then…

There is this place, a fork in the road.  Go left, on the better pavement, and you descend into West Virginia.  Go right, on the rougher surface, and the grade pitches up sharply.  It’s completely exposed there, and the wind lashes at you.  That’s the summit road.  The last two miles are a struggle under the best of conditions.

On that day, the wind was strong, and cold.  No shelter.  It stole the warmth out of my body.  I had to dismount for the last 100 yards, but I’d made it.  I was standing at the summit, over 6,000 feet above sea level, higher than anything within sight.  The wind was incredible!  I had no way of knowing what the temperature was, but the word “cold” was hopelessly inadequate.

I propped the bike and found the footpath on the south side of the summit.  Once down from the top a few yards, the mountain blocked the wind, and the Sun, shining up from the south, provided a bit of welcome warming.  I crouched there, rubbing my hands, restoring circulation.

As soon as I could, I went back up to the top and remounted the bike.  I could not stay there long, much though I wanted to.

Descending, usually a joy, was tough.  The wind rushing by, ripped anything like heat from me.  I was going hypothermic before I got down to the fork.  Most of the trip down the mountain was agony.  I was trembling so badly that I could barely control the bike.  The temptation to brake was irresistible.  It took a subjective eternity to get down to the lower slopes of the mountain.

It was a joy to finally get down far enough so that it was possible to turn the cranks again, possible to work and make some heat.  I have no recollection of the rest of the ride home.  I know that when I arrived, I hit the shower, and then the bed, bundled under every blanket I owned.  I would not re-visit my beloved mountain again until Spring.  Cold had been defined.  It was a place I was not welcomed in.

Thursday Thoughts: Training & Longings

Life is training.

It never gets easier, you just go faster or longer.  It’s like wrestling with a gorilla.  You don’t stop when you get tired, you stop when the gorilla gets tired.

Over-training is dumb and counterproductive.

Training is the application of a calculated load or stress, coupled with correct nutrition, and proper rest and recovery.  Training is a stimulus.  The response is the body’s adaptation to the training load.  This response takes place during resting and recovery.  Training, without correct recovery is much like cultivating the garden and then planting weeds.

Overtraining results when the load applied is greater than the body’s ability to adapt.

Symptoms of overtraining include (but are not limited to):

• Persistent muscle soreness
• Persistent fatigue
• Elevated resting heart rate
• Reduced heart rate variability
• Increased susceptibility to infection
• Increased incidence of injury
• Irritability
• Sudden variability of sleep patterns
• Depression
• Loss of zest for training.

Lately, in my life, I have not been able to do as much riding and training as I would like and would prefer.  There have been some outside circumstances that have kept me off of the bike, and have seriously impacted my time available for training.

I find myself actually lusting for a good long ride, a hard workout.  This time will end.  I know it will.  The things that I am doing must be done, and their time is now.  But this time will end, and I will again ride more, ride to work more, and ride with more purpose.

For now, riding is therapy.  It sooths and relaxes me.  My bicycle tells me it will wait, but only so long.  Only as long as it takes, and not one second l

Lights: Care and Feeding of

We picked this topic today for two reasons.  First off, the Summer Solstice Celebration Night Ride is one week away.  Second, most of you who use lights have pretty well forgotten about them by now. 

We have well over 13 hours of daylight every day now.  It’s most likely that the lighting users among the crowd have just gradually set them aside and haven’t used them in weeks.  Mostly, that’s a good thing, but you will want your lights again some day.  So it is wise to give some thought to the maintenance and care of your lighting systems.  An excellent way to ensure that you don’t have lights next Autumn, is to neglect them now.

Do you know where your lights are?  If not, stop reading now, and go spend some time finding them.  We’ll wait.  Go ahead.  Do it now.

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Glad you’re back.  Did you find everything?  Light unit?  Battery?  Cables?  Charger?  Mount?  If so, good.  If not, go look again.  Find it all.

Now think.  When was the last time you used your systems?  That long ago?  Did you charge them after the ride?  Of course you don’t remember.  It’s been a while after all.  No!  Don’t just put them on the charger.  Wait a moment.  We’ll get to that.  This is about making sure you are good to go for next Monday, and for the next season too.

First, inspect everything.  Are any of the cables getting cracked?  Are the connectors in good shape?  Everything clean and serviceable?  Now is the time to note deficiencies and to go about taking care of them.  You have the time to get stuff ordered and repaired if necessary.

Inspection complete?  Good.  The next step depends on the type of lighting system you are using.  Look down below and you will see a set of maintenance procedures for each general type of light and battery.  Find the one that matches you, and get busy.  If you procrastinate on this one, you will end up in the dark, and you will be out of pocket for the repairs.

Disposable Battery Lights:

Remove the batteries.  It’s that simple.  If you leave them with batteries installed over the Summer, there is a very good chance that the batteries will expire in a nasty fashion.  They will leak.  The crud they leak is basically an acid.  It will destroy the light.  Store these things with the batteries out of them.  It’s not a bad idea to purchase a set of fresh batteries now, and store them with the lights.  (Note:  the word “with” does not mean “inside”!

Battery Types:

Lead-Acid, Sealed Lead, or “Gel Cell”

If this is your battery type, it is less expensive, and heavier than some of the newer high tech batteries.  Recharging after use is not quite as urgent, but lead batteries should not be partially discharged and then stored for long times.  Lead-acid batteries should not be repeatedly deep cycled.  This will greatly decrease their useful life.  These batteries perform poorly in cold temperatures, but they do fairly well at higher riding temperatures.

Nicad (nickel-cadmium) & NiMH (nickel metal hydride):

There is a legend going around that these batteries develop a “memory.”  The idea is that if only partially discharged, they will “learn” to not discharge fully.  The source for this is the early days of the space program.  This type of battery was used a lot in satellites.  The systems that controlled the battery usage regularly discharged the batteries an exact amount, and then recharged them (from solar panels) by an exact amount.  It is unlikely that any o fus will ever be able to duplicate the 90 minute cycle times, and the precision of a NASA satellite.  So this isn’t much of a worry.

Nickle batteries should not be regularly deep cycled.  They are best if they are run down to about 50% of capacity and then recharged after use.  It is not a bad idea to run an occasional deeper discharge, but care should be taken to avoid running them all the way down.

Best practice: Before storage, charge the battery, then run it down to about an 80% discharge point.  Recharge and store in a cool location.

Li-ion (lithium ion polymer):

These are a bit tricky.  They don’t like to be “deep cycled,” and they don’t like to be too lightly used.  Best policy and procedure.

Regularly discharge to around 30% to 50% of capacity.

Recharge immediately after use.

Store and use in a temperate environment.  (These things don’t like heat or cold.  Cool is good.  Best if can be kept between 50 and 75 degrees F)

Should be cycled (partial dischrge and re-charge) at least once every month.

Do not over-charge.

Store only when fully charged.

North Georgia:

Usually I manage to get up to Dahlonega somewhere near either the Memorial day weekend, or the 4^th of July.  That’s not going to work out this year, and I’m sorry.  I miss the mountains at this time.  I miss riding through those small mountain towns.

Let me tell you what is so special about being there on those particular dates.

Ride through a small, north Georgia mountain town on Memorial weekend, or near the 4^th of July, and you see something amazing and incredible.  The streets are lined with small American Flags, and small white crosses.  Each cross has a name on it.  They are the names of residents of that town who have served overseas, in the armed forces of the United States of America.  Each cross carries a name, and the name of the conflict.  The Spanish American War, World War I, World War II, Korea, Vietnam, The first Gulf War, Afghanistan, Iraq.  In Dahlonega, Elijay, Chatsworth, and other towns, the sight is the same.

The striking thing is, the numbers.  These are small towns.  Yet they have given so many to defend our country.  And they remember them.  It’s not a big flashy thing.  It’s not showy.  It’s just there.

After a long ride in the mountains, one comes back into the town, and the streets are lined with those names and flags.  Suddenly, the spirit lifts.  The bike gets lighter, and the chest swells.  Chill bumps raise up on the arms.  You can feel it.  It’s a palpable thing.  These small towns in the hills are places where this nation lives.

God Bless America.  God Bless Georgia.  God Bless all those sons and daughters of all those mountain towns.

Looking ahead: THREE RIDES

We are planning several annual event type rides, so it’s probably appropriate to spend a little time on them here.

Summer Solstice Celebration Night Ride:

Way back in time, it was traditional for folks to get together and perform a semi-annual ceremony called Beat the Bounds.  The townfolk would get together, along with the priest and the local headman.  They would form a procession, and all would go out and visit each of the boundary markers of the locality.  They would then “beat” each of these markers, marking them with plant dye, or (later in history) sprinkling them with Holy Water.  This was a way to claim and reclaim the borders of the town or province.  It was an occasion for celebration. 

Usually this was done at a propitious time.  The Summer Solstice was such a time.  By this point the early heavy work of clearing away the Winter damage, plowing the fields, and getting the crops in was done.  It was a good time to pause and survey the home area.

We are, in our own modest way, renewing and honoring that tradition with this ride.  Besides, it’s a lot of fun to ride at night.  It’s especially good on Summer Monday nights.  By 8:00 P.M. most of the traffic vanishes.  Good stuff.

Format:  We will ride as a group.  We’ll stick together for visibility and safety.  The pace will be a bit strong for a beginner, but mostly fairly relaxed.  We’ll start out in Peachtree City.  We’ll head out to the west, and ride a large loop around the outskirts around of town the “Greater Pechtree City Area.

The following are pertinent factors:

Sunset 20:51

End Civil Twilight  21:20

Moonrise  12:13 AM  (it will be a dark night)

Start/Finish:  Fredrick Brown Amphitheater, PTC

Start Time:  7:30 P.M. (sharp!)

Distance:  Approx 45 miles

Pace:  Approx 15 mph overall average

Conditons:  Ride goes rain or shine

Requirements:  Helmets (of course), Reflective sash or vest, reflective ankle bands, good strong headlight and tail light, good cheer.

FUNNEST ROAD RIDE IN GEORGIA!:

We’re going up to Helen, GA for this one.  It’s an out-and-back.  There’s a bit of work to get to the fun part, but the fun part is worth the price of entry.  And yes the 0800 start time requires leaving home at a stoop-pid early hour.  Again, it will be well worth it!

We park in the municipal parking lot, on Chattahoochee Strasse.  (Remember to bring some cash for parking fees.  They are usually only a couple of dollars.)

We’ll ride north, right up the main drag in Helen, and on out of town.  After a bit of “roller” riding, we turn and make the climb over Burton Dam Road.  (This road name is sometimes altered for effect.  Once we’ve made the double climb, we descend down to the shores of Seed Lake.  This is where the fun part really gets going.  The trip along the lake shores is delightful.  The roads are extremely tight, loaded with curves that are technical even on a road bike.  There’s another real plus.  There is little traffic up there on weekdays, and the roads are so tight and windy that the few cars encountered can not keep up with cyclists!

After the run along the lakes, we climb up through Tiger Gap.  This is not a true major gap climb, but rather a long series of ascents.  We come out of the climbing, and arrive at Tiger, and at the Tiger Market.  Here can be had one of the world’s best grilled cheese sandwiches!  The chocolate cake is pretty good too!  Add a bucket of sweet tea, and it’s an ideal cyclist’s lunch.

Bottles refilled, we’re ready to turn around and do it all again, in the other direction!

Details:

Where:  Helen, GA.  Municipal Parking lot, on Chattahoochee Strasse

Date: Thursday, 14 July

Time:  0800 A.M. (Sharp!)

Distance/Pace: approx 65 miles  Pace will be fun, but we’ll stop to regroup

periodically.  (This one is not for beginners!)

Requirements/Conditions: Helmets are required, road bikes strongly

recommended.  We’ll go rain or shine.

TRIPLE GAP ROUTE RIDE:

Not to be confused with the big, organized event.  This ride will small, disorganized, and simply a group of us out to enjoy the roads, the climbs, and sweet mountain air.

We’ll ride the traditional “south triple,” with a start/finish in Dahlonega.  We’ll do this one with one bit of a difference.  Find your parking where you will, but ride to the Dahlonega Courthouse Square.  We’ll use the Gold Museum, on the south east corner of the square, as a Rally Point for the start and finish of this ride.  (Please use courtesy and common sense in selecting your parking spot.  Do it legally.)

We’ll do the traditional approach to Neels Gap, up Rockhouse Rd, and Porter Springs.  There’s a possibility of a stop at the top of Neels Gap (mile 22), but I prefer to “roll” this summit.  We have another possible store stop in Suches (mile 37).

After descending Woody Gap, we’ll take the old “back way” into Dahlnega.  It’s a lot nicer, and less traffic.

Details:

            Where:  Gold Museum, Dahlonega, GA.  Court Square.

            Date:  Thursday, 4 August

            Time:  0900 A.M.  (Sharp!)

            Distance/Pace:  Approx 53 miles, with re-group options

Requirements/Conditions: Helmets are required, road bikes strongly

recommended.  We’ll go rain or shine.

            Suggestion:  Mount your climbing gears!

Don't forget!  Our twice monthly Novice MTB Ride is tomorrow, at the Peachtree City Baseball Soccer Complex.  We'll start at 6:30 P.M.