Friday Follies ~~ The Thrill of it All

A good friend once said to me,  “It seems to me that what bicycle riders are mostly doing is trying to get to a place where they can get a good coast back down.”

When Guy said that, I drew in breath to contradict him.  I was formulating an argument based on fitness, and on the practicality of using a bike for transportation.  But then I just let that breath back out, grinned at my good friend, and said,  “You know..?  You’re right.”

Adrenaline is a hormone that the body produces in response to fear or anger.  It’s the “fight or flight” trigger.  It boosts the body’s physical performance.  As adrenaline is released into the system, things happen.  The heart rate rises, respiration increases, blood flow to the digestive tract is diminished, at the same time that the peripheral circulation (to the skeletal muscles) is increased.  The hair on the body stands up, in an ancient reflex to make the body look bigger and more menacing.  Core temperature starts to rise.  Sweat flow is increased to improve cooling.  The vision seems to clear, hearing sharpens, the brain speeds up.  In short it’s a rush.  This is why folks go to amusement parks and get on rides.

Amusement park rides are designed to scare the livin’ spit out of you.  (It might be added, that while the rides are designed to scare, they are also carefully constructed to be as safe as possible.)  Why is this?  Because, if you know that there is really no danger, it can be fun to have a good scare.

I think I’ve mentioned this before.  My entire cycling “career” started one bright morning when I dragged the kid-clunker (that I didn’t know how to ride) up to the top of the equipment ramp on the barn hill.  There was a pure adrenaline moment right after I pushed off.  Scared me spitless, and I thought it was a complete blast.

I have a confession to make.  I’m an adrenaline junky.  I live for that moment, that tingling, copper tasting instant, right on the very utter edge.  I control this tendency very closely now.  In this advanced part of my life, I prefer to calculate the risks closely.  (Such was not always the case.)

“Coasting” is an interesting word.  In cycling it seems to imply the act of drifting along, effortlessly, not a care in the world.  But in fact, coasting is the act of riding the bike on accumulated momentum, or with the acceleration provided by a down hill slope.  True as far as it goes, but there is a place where a vaguely defined line is crossed, and “coasting” becomes “descending.”

All cyclists, it would seem, enjoy coasting, but many have no taste for descending.  What’s the difference?  Answer:  Speed!  In descending there is speed involved.  Suddenly there is a need for technique.  Braking and cornering, appropriate lines, coefficient of adhesion, wind drag, crosswind buffet, and road surface all become incredibly important.  Face it, if one falls off of the bike, or hits something at a gentle pace, it may hurt and leave a little boo-boo.  Elevate the speed to something north of 45 miles per hour and any problem is serious.  But isn’t that the point?  We aren’t really looking for pain and suffering, but the rush of the wind and the knowledge that this just could get out of hand…  These things provide the reward.  It’s that sensation of being truly alive, fully engaged, and in this moment that we seek.

Climbs are rewarding in their own right, but really now, would we do them if there were a ride waiting at the top?

Thursday Thoughts: Backups

I learned this one a long time ago.  Always have a backup!  A contingency plan is a good thing to have.  A contingency bike can be the backbone of that kind of plan.

There was a time when I did not have a car of any kind.  I had two bicycles.  One was the “car,”  the everyday, go to work, transportation vehicle.  The other rig was for racing.  (In those days, I believed that I had a career ahead of me in racing.)  This arrangement was suitable, but it had a flaw.  My thought was that I would train on the “everyday bike,” and that riding instead of driving would help me in that effort.  That was a good plan.  The problem was one of reliability.  The everyday bike would break down, or wear something vital out, or its tires would be shot, and no money ‘til payday.  These circumstances would force me to recruit the racing bike into more mundane service.  (I had to get to work, and I had no other means.)

The race bike was a bit more temperamental, more high strung.  So it would tend to go out of tune, and/or break.  Usually this would occur just about the time I got the everyday bike running again, and just in time for a race.  That meant I rode the everyday bike in the race.  Not ideal.

Then I would save up money, and buy parts, and make repairs on the race bike, whilst riding the everyday bike.

Basically, I had my racing rig available for just about every other race.  I hated that.

It took a while for it to dawn on me that I always had one bike.  I always had something to ride in the events, and I always had something to ride for transport.

The experiences recounted above took place over 35 years ago.  Today’s bikes and components are amazingly more reliable.  Still, anything with moving parts is going to have problems, wear things out, and suffer malfunctions and failures.  The more exotic the device, the longer the repair time will be.  (Parts need to be ordered, suppliers and manufacturers negotiated with.  It all takes time!)  So I submit, if riding is important, having a second bike (or more!) in reserve becomes imperative.

Incidentally, the reserve bike must be maintained too!

Don’t get mad at me.  It’s just the way things are.

Training: The Basics V

Commandment VI)  Plan to PEAK

So just what is a “Peak”?  It’s actually very easy do define, but difficult to pin down.  The “Peak” is the optimum of physical conditioning, for power production and endurance, given the amount of time available for training.

Bear in mind, training produces fatigue loads.  Endurance training, and power production training tend to each diminish the other.  Even work aimed at reducing body fat has a cost.

A few quick words on that last comment.  To reduce body fat, two things are required.  Careful control and attention to food intake, and long, low output efforts.  Reduced body weight has many benefits, not the least of these is better efficiency.  But…  The act of working to reduce body fat tends to rob a bit of strength.  It’s a long run worthwhile effort, with a short term cost.

How can I have a “peak”?  And more important,  How can I time it so it’s there when I want it?

These two questions go to the core of a training program.  If you want a really strong peak, you must look ahead, decide on a goal, and pick that date.  That date will determine the structure of the time leading up to it.

One principle to bear always in mind.  The body will only continue to respond to a activity for a limited period of time.  Generally one has 10 to 12 weeks, before the diminished returns effect starts to set in.  Keep that in mind.

Recipe for a Peak:

As we said, pick a date.  Preferably this an event at the beginning  of your “Peak Week.”  Now count back 41 weeks from that date.  That’s where things start.

Here’s the schedule leading up to your peak.

Weeks 1 & 2  “Pre-Rest”  Getting ready to get ready to train.

Focus on rest and diet.  Line up equipment and schedules.  Physical activity focuses on fun, and on low output.  The word “effort” is not associated with any part of this time.

Weeks 3 through 14  Adaptation and Preparation  Work to prepare the body to accept the loads of training.  A program of “Dry Land” work, stretching, and strength training, with gradual increases in load and volume.  Bike work is very limited here, and is confined to lower volume and very low intensity.  Bike time should be “active recovery” time.  Bike work should include focus on skills and form.

Week 15 R&R  This is a recovery period.  R&R means Rest and Recovery.  If you are training hard, you need to rest harder.  Give it a break!

Weeks 16 through 27  Endurance Intervals with long recoveries.  This is a period where the focus is on building endurance.  That means interval training.  Start with few short intervals per workout, gradually increasing the number, duration, and intensity.  Hill repeats.  High power efforts.  Start at lower levels and gradually increase.  Each week includes low effort recovery rides and solid rest periods.

Week 28 and 29  R&R  Again, lots of good rest and recovery.  Revist form and skill work.  Become refreshed.

Weeks 20 through 39  Speed work  A focus on long, very low output efforts.  These are the things that build speed.  Revist intervals once per week throughout.  Gradually increase the volume (duration) of your long slow rides.  (NOTE:  This will surprise you, but you will accumulate fatigue during this phase.  Be sure to get ample rest each week!)

Weeks 40 and 41 Taper  This is the really tough part.  You must decrease effort.  Training should be restricted to shorter periods, at significantly lower effort levels.  At first (day 1 through 4) this will feel good.  Then, you will start to think that something is wrong.  Your body has become accustomed to high demand, and you are resting it.  That’s as it should be!  Resist the urge to do more.  In the second week of a taper, there is a eauphoric feeling associated with any training.  One thinks that almost any effort is easy.  Again, resist the urge to give in to this.  Stick to a schedule of shorter, low output efforts.  The focus here is on active recovery, with just enough activity to keep the body loose and flexible.  (NOTE:  A long and careful training plan can be ruined by over-exertion during the taper.)

Week 42 Peak!  Congratulations!  You are there!  You are as ready as you can be.  Go out and enjoy your event, and your period of peak fitness.  You deserve it!

Next week:  Commandment VII Improve your weaknesses.  And Commandment VIII TRUST your TRAINING

Let there be LIGHTS!

By this time of the year we make it a rule to carry lights with us on any ride that starts after 4:00 P.M.  We’ll amend that rule in November.  Once we’re back on Standard Time, and are dealing with a lot less daylight, the rule is,  “Don’t start any ride after 2:00 P.M. without carrying lights.”

This is just good common sense.  It doesn’t take much in the way of incidents, or unplanned excursions, to cause one to be stumbling home in the dark.

A sometimes frustrating question:  I’m referring to the “What lights should I get?” question.  It’s frustrating because my experience is that folks seem to be asking for permission to spend a whole lot less than they should.  I’m asked the question, and then promptly ask in return,  “What are your intentions?  Where and when do you want to go night riding?”

Before I go any farther, please understand, you get what you pay for.  Spending less, on a light that is inadequate to the purpose actually costs you more.  Either you don’t get to ride, or you try it and have a bad time.  Then you are still faced with having to pony up for a light that is appropriate to the purpose.

I tend to rank lights into three informal categories.  Here follows a description, along with a rough (very) price guidline.

See me!  (Please?)  approximately $20 to $35

5 to 20 lumen

These are devices that increase your presence.  They make you more visible to others, but they don’t do much to help you see what you are doing.  Basically, these are little more than glorified flashlights, with bicycle handlebar mounts.

Get me Home  Approximately $40 to $80

25 to 75 lumen

These are lights that will allow you to ride home.  They work well for those times that find you out longer than expected.  Some emergency (say a flat tire a bit before dusk) has put you unintentionally in the dark.  This is the light that will allow you to ride home, but at a reduced speed.  These are worth it, if you don’t plan to be in the dark ever, but want some fairly cheap insurance.

Intentional  Approximately $100 to $800

120 to 1400 lumen

Yeah that last number is high.  But wait.  Amazing things have been happening in the LED and rechargeable battery world.  My current personal favorite night light costs $145.  It puts out an astonishing amount of light.  It’s brightest setting is 400 lumen, and will last for two hours.  It’s adequate to the task of night time trail riding.  Only a few years ago, a system that would meet that demand cost over $400.

Why do I call this category “Intentional”?  Because these are lights for the individual who says,  “I intend to be out here, in the dark, doing it, and I’m gonna do it right!”

A few more good points:

Lumen?  It’s a unit of measure for light.  To make this intuitive, a really bright flashlight is usually about 10 to 15 lumen (and hopelessly inadequate for riding).  A single automotive headlight, on low-beam puts out about 250 lumen.  On high it’s about 425 lumen.

Two cheap lights do not equal one good one, but they may cost more.

You need more light to ride off road at night.  (There’s more ambient light on the road, and roads don’t surprise you with sudden extremely sharp turns or obstacles.

Two lights are ideal for night time mountain biking.  (One on the handlebar and one on the helmet.)

If only one light is to be used for mountain biking, it should be a helmet mount type.  (You need to be able to turn your head and direct your light to the point you are about to ride without having to turn the handlebar.  This isn’t so necessary on the road, but it’s essential on the trails.

I hope this has been somewhat helpful.  Suggestions?  Questions?

Chatter

“Your headlights are fading like Pluto.”

“Pluto?  The planet?  What about it?”

“It’s not a planet any more.  They re-classified it.”

“Who did?”

“The communists at the IAU.”

“I heard that neutrinos can travel faster than light.”

“Speaking of lights, that guy back there is getting real dim.  Somebody should drop and give him some help.”

“What are you talking about!?”

“Pluto!”

“No!  Mark’s lights!”

“Watch the cart!”

Confused?  That was just a sample of the cross-talk at a recent ride.  It’s always a bit fascinating, when a bunch of fairly intelligent folks all start talking at once.  Sometimes it sounds like nonsense.  Other times it’s weirdly stream-of –consciousness.

On occasion, I’ve seen a group just stop, because a conversation was too compelling, and too confusing.  So, by mutual agreement, the whole group stopped and talked it out.  More often, the conversation breaks down into several sub-groups, all riffing on the theme.  This is the “cocktail party effect.”

Think this is odd?  What do you talk about when you’re riding?

Friday Follies ~~ Fall Equinox Celebration Ride: A Brief Report

Monday was (in addition to being International Talk Like a Pirate Day, Arr…) the occasion for our annual Fall Equinox Celebration Night Ride.  (Point of scientific fact:  The actual Autumnal Equinox occurs today at 06:04.)

Conditions were near ideal.  The weather was sweet, cool enough to be pleasant, and warm enough not to require additional life-support technology.

We had a largish group of good riders assembled.  I don’t take role at these things, so I honestly don’t know who all was there.  I saw Ryan, Van, Chris, Candy, Amy, Amanda, Dan, Jim, Teresa, Scott, and Jody.  If I missed you, and you were there, please let me know about it.

We got started right on time, with the ceremonial lighting of the tail lights.  We pushed off into rapidly gathering dusk, and moved Southwardish, down the Peachtree Parkway.  It was pleasing to see good traffic discipline and excellent stopsign and intersection procedures in a group so large.  (Maybe that was why we didn’t experience any horn honking as we rode out of town?)

By the time the group got to the GA-85 crossing, it was pretty close to full dark, and most had their headlights on.

Another outstanding group performance occurred as we reached GA-92.  On this route, it’s necessary to turn right onto this road, and then after a short distance, make a left off of it.  This can be tricky, as traffic comes up fast, and the sightlines are not long here.  We pulled it off excellently, slowing after the combination to allow the traffic-lagged riders to catch back up.

For several miles after leaving GA-92 the roads are quite rough, bad pavement, holes, bumps, etc.  That may have figured in the night’s major incident.

We moved at a moderate speed, and in good order, through a series of turns onto progressively more rural roads.  And yes I missed one turn, forcing the group to do an on-street 180 turn to get back to it.  (Honest, I don’t do this deliberately!  It’s not a ploy to test rider alterness and handling ability.)

And then it happened!  “Steve!  Somebody has a problem!”  I hate hearing that.  It’s not that I don’t want to know.  It’s that there is always a rush of anxiety.  Did someone fall?  How bad is it?  All that rushes through my head.

As fortune would have it, this one wasn’t a major problem, but it was bad enough.  A broken spoke.  On the rear.  (Of course.)  And almost at the exact midpoint of the loop.  (That Murphy is a witty guy, isn’t he?)  With the sudden release of tension, the wheel had gone badly out of true, enough to be rubbing the bike’s frame.  Hard!  The bike was all but unrideable.

I must commend the group.  Everyone got well off the road while we dealt with things.  Folks stood around in such a way as to direct their lights on the disabled bike and the work I needed to do.  I was handed tools as needed.  Really really cool!

Then we had to make some decisions.  The rider was willing to call for a pickup, but the problem is, how do we direct the rescuer to a place where it’s possible to find the rider?  And worse, I do not want to leave anyone alone, out in the middle of the night.

I knew that the roads ahead were smoother, and that we would reach GA-92 within about two miles.  That would give us a much better location fix.  That made the decision for us.  We would go that far, and then call for help.

By the time we reached GA-92, Teresa was calling her husband.  Tracy was gracious enough to agree to meet us, and pick up our rider and his ailing bike, but it meant we would go “off route” to a good meeting location.

The meet worked out perfectly, but it left the rest of us a good way off of the intended route.  I wanted to get us back home in a timely fashion, so I made some quick decisions about the rest of the night’s travel, and we pushed off again.

Let’s review the bidding.  We were doing fine, but…  Then we had a mechanical, a field-expedient repair, some discussion, and a detour.  We’re in good order, but off-route.  My best estimate is that we’ve added about a two mile detour.  If we go back to the point of departure from route, we’ll be about four or five miles long.  Add to that the time lost in just standing, and it could get quite late.

I made the decision.  We took a cross-route, intercepted our planned course, and continued.  We’d still be a bit long, but I had another short cut in mind.  So, instead of taking Morgan Mill Rd to Padgett, we went straight up the GA-85conn.  That cut something like a mile off of our trip.

Did you know that they are doing paving on the GA-74 project…  At night?  Neither did we.  They are.  That only caused a minor bit of confusion.  It helped greatly that traffic was light.

The trip back into Peachtree City was uneventful.  We arrived only ten minutes later than plan, and just one mile less than the original plan.  Not bad, all things considered.

So, as a group, we slipped through the night, causing little disturbance to our motoring brethren.  We had a problem, and as a group, we resolved it.  We adjusted for the conditions, and made it home in fine shape and high spirits.  All in all, a very successful night, I’d say.

Thursday Thoughts: Early

It’s fairly easy to do an early ride in the Summer.  By 05:00 the sky is beginning to hint at dawn, and the sun is rising by the time I pull back in between 06:00 and 06:30.  By this time of year, it seems as if the same time is the middle of the night.  More, it’s getting so it’s kinda cool out there.  I don’t mean “cool” as in “groovy,” or “sweet,”  or “rad.”  No.  It’s cool in the sense that it’s approaching being chilly out.

I check the weather, and check my big dial thermometer.  I estimate humidity and cooling rates.  I dress accordingly.  Don’t want to be too warm when I get on the bike.  Don’t want to sweat and then chill.  So I start out chilly, and with lights burning.  The body warms.  Suddenly, I’m a bit too warm.  Open zippers.  The air rushes in, and I cool.  Maybe a bit too much.  Quick, find a hill to climb, and close some zippers!

Be sure the tail light is working.  Pull on the reflective gear.  Seems like a lot for a “simple” bike ride.

Why bother?

Well, it’s quiet.  I like quiet.  Don’t seem to get enough of it.  I like looking up at the stars.  Is anybody up there looking back?  It’s a time when I don’t have to interact with other people.  I need that.

Please don’t misunderstand.  I’m fairly gregarious by nature.  But I’m exposed to a lot of people on a daily basis.  I need solitary time.

And the major payoff?  There aren’t a lot of folks out in cars.  I can ride for as much as a half hour, even 45 minutes, without seeing or hearing a car.  These early mornings are a time when it’s possible to imagine a calmer, quieter, better world.

Training: The Basics IV

Back in the post from 7 September we discussed “Training Commandments” II through IV.

II)            Train CONSISTENTLY

III)          Get ADEQUATE REST

IV)          Train with a PLAN

Today we’re going to take up number V)  Train with groups INFREQUENTLY

This deserves a fair amount of attention.  Cycling has a very gregarious and social side to it.  On the other hand, a lot of “social” cycling, most especially “group training rides” turn out to be some form of undeclared competition.  This is not all bad.  But it can be hurtful in a variety of ways.

To begin with, a new rider can easily get the idea that all rides are fast rides.  Worse, for a rider new to this type of activity, it can seem incredibly daunting, intimidating.  Possibly the biggest problem with group rides as training is this; someone else always has an agenda.  That agenda is most likely contrary to your goals for the ride.  It could be too easy, too hard, too short, too long, or simply not focused enough.

Yes, there are things that can be learned from riding in a group.  And yes, there are social benefits and rewards, but usually a group ride is a waste of time for training.

A solo ride, with a specific defined goal should be the norm for training.  When we are alone, the temptation to exceed our threshold is removed.  When we are alone, we can focus on hill repeats and sustaining a predetermined effort level.  (I’ve never seen a group ride do hill repeats.)

Let’s face it.  The majority of group “training rides” are simply races without rules.  This can be useful, but is usually not.

I’ve said it before, a lot of riders are actually training to make a good show at the local club ride.  There is nothing wrong with this, but the local club ride is not the place to accomplish that training.

As a singleton rider, it is possible to go find the appropriate terrain for the intended work, to do that work without distraction, and then to close out the session with a proper cool-down.  Stay focused.  Save the group riding for later.

Next week:  Commandment V)  Plan to PEAK

I REALLY WANT TO KNOW!!

Last night was the annual Fall Equinox Celebration Ride.  It’s a good thing to mark these cardinal points in the passing of the seasons.  This time the ride was just a couple of days short of the actual Equinox (falling in the early morning of 23 Sept.), and right at the meteorological turning of the seasons.  If you’ve spent any time outside lately, you can see and feel it.  Summer is done.  Fall is upon us.  Winter is coming.  So…

I always try to approach this time with a mixture of enjoying it thoroughly (it is a good time!) and making preparations for that which is coming.  In that spirit, I’m really curious about what others are doing to prepare for the time ahead.  I’d really like to hear from a lot of you about this.

What projects do you have planned for the coming fall and Winter?  Are you getting a new bike?  Are you learning something new.  Do you have an old rig that you are updating?

What goals are you looking at for next year?  Are you taking steps toward them?  What?  How?

Are you changing a fitness routine?  How are you doing that?  What problems are you having?  How do you plan to meet them?

What dreams do you have for the near, intermediate, and long term future?

Let’s get some conversations going.

Ride Report &C.

Here be Pirates!  Arrgh!  Yes, it’s International Talk Like a Pirate Day.  So let your “Inner Pirate” out!

COX BIKE MS ATLANTA:  Cox Enterprises is again the title sponsor for this year’s Bike MS event.  The Georgia Chapter of the Multiple Sclerosis Society is the organizer for the event.  The purpose is elegantly simple, raise money to fund research into cure and treament of Multiple Sclerosis.  The disease is a crippler and a killer.  Frankly, I find it personally infuriating.  I can not express how strongly I support this cause.  That’s why I was there, to support the cause, and to ride my bike in support.

This ride is now in the books.  The weekend was favorable.  It was cool in the early part of the day, or maybe even on the lower side of cool.  Lingering overcast prevented the days from heating quickly.  Cool and dry makes for good riding conditions.

There were over 2,000 riders present.  A mass start with two thousand riders is quite an event, all by itself.  It makes my heart proud to see so many out in support of a fine goal.  Imagine being part of this huge throng of riders.  The music is blaring.  There are announcement over the huge and powerful PA.  Then a pause.  The National Anthem is sung while a flight of stunt planes does a formation flyover.  And then, team by team, we are off!  Rolling out onto the roads.  It’s a thrill ride, an adrenaline rush, and (sometimes) just a bit scary.

The crowd thins fairly quickly as the stronger riders (and the ones who think they are) surge forward, and the more moderate settle in.  Generally, folks are in a happy and friendly frame of mind.

A quick word on the general tone of these events.  WOW!  If anything, the Bike MS rides are over-supported.  There are Break Points just about every 10 miles, with an occasional gap of 15 miles.  A fleet of 15 passenger vans patrols the course looking for riders who need assistance.  There are mechanics available at the Break Points.  There is a platoon of motorcycle marshals out patrolling the course, ready to direct traffic, render assistance, or make a radio call for help.  The volunteers, at the breakpoints, in the SAG vans, at Rider Services, at check-in, at the meals, at any point of contact, are AMAZING!!!  They are, without exception, positive, up-beat, cheerful, and they make you feel like they are thrilled that you are here.  These folks do everything but pedal the bike for you!

The routes are chosen to keep you out of the way of traffic, and to be interesting, but not intimidating.

One last thing, and it’s very illustrative.  At one time or another we’ve all overcommitted on the bike.  I imagine every one of us has had a bad day, or just a long one.  Have you come in to find and empty parking lot, and one volunteer, who said,  “Are you finally finished?  Here’s a warm coke and a cold and greasy slice of pizza.  I’m going home now.”  (I’ve been there.  It sucks.)

Yesterday, I happened to be one of the many people who was waiting for the last riders to get in off of the course.  I watched the last four riders coming in.  They were accompanied by a full cavalcade of motorcycles, 17 vans, official cars, and police escort.  Horns and sirens blasting.  Crowd cheering.  Big group at the finish applauding madly.  The traffic control police at the park entrance calling out,  “Welcome Home!”

It’s a good and great weekend, for a most worthy cause, and everyone is value

Friday Follies ~~ Rain Rides

“I never ride in the rain.”

I hear that statement a fair amount.  It always gives me pause.  To begin with, here in north Georgia, our climate can toss almost anything at us, and at almost any time.  I’ve been deluged on days when there was a “zero percent rainchance,” in the middle of a drought.  How does one avoid that?  (Possibly by never riding outside?)

I rather like riding in the rain.  I don’t like being wet and cold.  I am a bit leery of conditions where visibility is greatly reduced.  Both of these situations are fairly easy to avoid or deal with.  This wasn’t always the case.

Ages ago, when I was first learning road cycling, I tried to avoid rain.  Of course, if it rained while I was out, I rode in it.  Usually taking the shortest route home.  I learned.  I learned that a Summer shower was refreshing.  I learned that my bike would handle the conditions well.  I learned how to handle traffic in rain.

But in those pre-historic days (before the invention of Gore-Tex) rain and cool weather presented a problem.  The only answer we had was wool.  Wool and rain jackets.  (Waxed cotton duck did exist, but I hadn’t found out about it.)

The early rain jackets were a light and short version of the kid’s “slicker” that I’d used in grade school.  Basically, this was rubberized denim fabric.  Bright yellow.  It stank, and it didn’t do a very good job.  It was all but useless in warm weather because it trapped heat and moisture.  So in a few minutes, the rider was just as wet as if no jacket had been worn.

Wool does do a fair job of insulating, even when wet, but the wool riding clothing of the day came in two basic varieties.  There was the stuff I could afford, and the “good stuff.”  The stuff I could afford was itchy, smelly, and didn’t hold shape well.  It was hard to wash, took forever to dry, and it was just plain not a lot of fun.  In colder weather these jackets helped a bit, but the rain ride was still a test of fortitude and character.

The mid-1970s were an interesting and exciting time for cycling.  There was a major “bike boom” going on.  The recent oil embargoes had pushed a lot of people toward bicycles.  Suddenly a rather large segment of the American population was taking to the road on bicycles.  Somehow, the idea of touring caught on.  Lots of folks decided to give it a try.  I was one of them.

There was another thing about the mid-70s that was interesting.  We hadn’t discovered global warming yet.  In fact, the then current “big scare” was that the Ice Age was coming.  I do remember it being a lot colder in the Winters, with a lot more snow, and the Summers were hotter.  (And yes, I walked to school, six miles, barefoot, in the snow, uphill both ways!)  And it seems it rained a whole lot more.  (Maybe that last was just a local phenomena.  I seem to attract rain.)

My early attempts at bicycle touring were learning experiences.  My first trips were short, weekend rides to slightly removed campsites.  It usually rained.

This was a typical scenario.  I’d start out with high hopes and great expectations.  The forecast would be favorable, the day sunny.  By mid-afternoon the clouds would be rolling in.  Shortly after that it would start to rain.  Not a passing shower mind you.  It would start as light rain, and gradually escalate to steady, with occasional burst of torrential.

(Digression:  Descending, on a 70s vintage bicycle, loaded, with the crappy brakes of the era, was an experience.  Modern bikes are worth every penny!  :End Digression)

The rain would continue, slowing progress, and soaking and chilling me.  I would arrive at the campsite to find it semi-flooded.  I would attempt to find dry ground, or at least ground above the waterline.  Then I would make camp.  It’s very difficult to get dry and warm when you are already soaked before setting up camp, and it is raining steadily while you are setting up.

(Digression:  The camping equipment of that era was heavy, cumbersome, and not very weather worthy.  Modern equipment is worth every penny!  For that matter, there is a lot to be said for motels with dry rooms, clean sheets, and hot running water at the end of a day!  :End Digression)

I would spend a long night, damp, and cold.  It would be raining throughout the night.  Breakfast would be cold.  But the sun usually came out on my return trip, and I would arrive back home, warm, dry, and only slightly chafed.

There were a couple of these trips that stayed dry, and they were wonderful, but they were also rare.

Gradually, equipment improved.  At the same time, my attitude changed.  I found that a ride in the rain beat staying indoors.  I learned to ride in the rain, and to welcome the challenge.  I learned to actually like rain rides.  (Mostly.  Not always, but more often than not.)  I learned the truth of the adage, “There is no bad weather, only poor clothing choices.”

Late in last Winter, I was riding to work.  The weather was, in a word, lousy.  It was grey.  It was raining, mixed with sleet.  I was under my incredible, British made, rain-cape, on my trusty full-fendered tourist.  I was actually a bit too warm, and quite dry.  I was relishing things around me, having the time of my life, when…

A largish SUV pulled along side of me.  The passenger’s side window powered down and the driver called out,  “Do you need help?  I’ll give you a ride and you can put your bike in the back.  Without thinking, I replied,  “No thanks!  I wouldn’t want to miss all this!”

Thursday Thoughts: Pause

The “sunset spot” at the lake was almost deserted when we rode by last night.  Sunsets are getting earlier.  About two weeks ago, we rode up to that point, by the dock, just as the sun was sliding into the trees on the far side of the lake.  For most of the Summer, as we’ve approached the location, we’ve encountered lots of folks, and found quite a gathering waiting there.  Last night, the show was over by the time we arrived.  Only a couple of stragglers were left.

During the Fall and Winter months, there is hardly anyone out by the time we reach the docs.  It’s not that our timing varies.  We’re always there between 7:45 and 7:50, but the season moves on, and the big attraction takes place much earlier in the evening.  One has to get out a bit earlier to see the show now.  So we cyclists pause at that spot, catch our breath, and move on, almost unremarked now.

At the other end of the day things are similar.  It’s been a while since I’ve ridden the sun up into the sky.  These days my early morning rides end about the time of the “false dawn.”  I’ll get a brief reprieve in a few weeks.  When we go off of Saving Time, I’ll be coming in just before sunrise.  If I tarry a little bit, I can arrange to be in a good location and catch a sunrise or two from the bike.  Of course, that means I’ll be a little bit late for the rest of the early morning chores and commitments.  In my estimation, it’s worth it.

Winter gives me a few more sunrises.  Old Sol comes up behind me on one particular section of my ride to work.  If I can arrange it, I’ll put some coffee in an insulated bottle or thermos, leave a bit earlier, and hit the ideal hillside before the event.  I’ll pull off the road, pour a cup, and salute the new day, watching the sun rise in glory.

For some reason, cycling to see the sun come up, or to watch it descend, is a good and fitting thing.

A Brief Interlude

I’m really looking forward to the Fall/Winter Ride Schedule.  Over at the shop, we’re introducing some new and different takes on a few things.  At the same time, we’ll be bringing back some of our old favorites.  More on that in a moment.

We’ve been doing some pretty serious re-modeling in the shop.  Come by and check it out.  We’re mostly getting favorable reviews, and we like the directions the new setup takes us.

In case some of you are wondering about posts on this blog for the past couple of days, there is a simple explanation.  I’ve been extremely busy, and it got to me.  I caught a cold, which just flat laid me out.  I’m doing better now, and should be back up to my usual standards soon.  I apologize for any inconvenience this might have caused.

On the topic of new and different activities…  We’re going to try something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time.  We’ll be doing some group, night, mountain bike rides.  Yup!  That’s right.  We’ll go riding on trails, at night!  Lights will most definitely be required.  If you haven’t tried trail riding at night, it’s a blast, but it’s also different!

Here’s a suggestion.  If you haven’t tried night time mountain biking, you might want to ease into it.  Try our Wednesday Night Path Ride, under lights.  These rides leave at 7:00 P.M.  Lights will be required for them, starting on Wed. 28 Sept.  On that night, sunset will be at 7:27, and Civil Twilight will end at 7:52.  Trust me, it will be dark on the paths.

This will let you get a feel for what it’s like to handle your bike in the dark.  You can assess your lighting setup, and beging the process of acclimating to riding with lights.

Do check out the Southside Cycling Club Calendar for dates and times on this one, and a lot of other stuff we’re doing.  (Not a member?  You can join Southside Cycling Club online, here.  Once you’re a member, you can get more details on each ride, and a lot more!)

One last little note:  While we are not yet requiring lights on the Wednesday night path ride or the Tuesday night Novice MTB Ride, it would not be a bad idea to have them along.  Start getting familiar.  Besides, it’s good insurance.  What will you do if you have a flat or a mechanical that puts your return trip into the dark?

(The ongoing Series “Training:  The Basics” will continue with installment IV, next week.)

Friday Follies ~~ The D_ _ _ _ d Dog!

Like many folks, I had a dog when I was young.  He was a massive specimen of the Boxer Bread, named Brandy.  Brandy was a wonderful creature.  He was strong, gentle, loved people, was fiercely loyal, and was generally a happy creature.  He also had an ornery side.  He was stubborn.  He liked to get loose and run.  He liked to get into trouble when he was out traveling.  He was dumber than a bag full of hammers.

Unavoidable Digression:

Some of what I am about to relate bears a slight resemblance to events described in the book Winterdance:  The Fine Madness of Running the Iditarod,  by Gary Paulsen.  If you haven’t read this book, go find it.  Right now!  It is one of the funniest and most poignant reads I’ve ever encountered.  It doesn’t have much relationship to cycling, and bicycles are only mentioned (hilariously) in one brief section.  Still, I recommend it most strongly.  Try (I dare you!) to read it out loud in the family.

Okay, where were we?

Brandy taught me a lot.  I learned a good bit about responsibility.  The dog had to be fed, watered, walked, and cared for.  And he had to be contained.  The amount of trouble that animal could find to get into was astonishing.  He was sneaky about getting loose.  Worse, it was always my responsibility when he did.  If I was anywhere around, it was my prime concern to stop Brandy from getting loose.  If he did break free, it was my job to go find him and bring him home.

It was imperative that he be caught as soon as possible.  His previous adventures had included tackling a superior milk cow on a neighboring farm, and savaging a prize winning poodle about a mile away.  Add to that, the dog just looked ferocious, and simply scared the fool out of most folks…  You get the picture.

Brandy taught me that I was a distance runner.  This occurred when he made one of his mad dashes for freedom and trouble, and I just dropped what I was doing and started running after him.  He was faster than I…  At the start.  The thing is, dogs are sprinters.  I caught up to him shortly after he stopped running and took a break.  I didn’t stop.  He looked at me, sort of grinned, and started running again.

That second run leg was shorter.  The dog was tiring.  I wasn’t.  It took about five running legs before Brandy just didn’t have another spring left in him.  I grabbed his collar and we walked back home.  This scene would be repeated.

There was a time when It occurred to me that I could hitch Brandy’s lead to my bike and he could pull me.  This was a stupidly bad idea.  It worked for a bit.  But then the dog stopped abruptly, and I didn’t.  I survived the crash.  We got organized again, and off we went again.  I was ready for the next sudden stop, and things progressed.  We got farther out into the countryside.  We were doing well, the dog trotting along, me coasting happily behind him.

Suddenly, there was a rustle in the brush to the side.  Brandy stopped, turned, and dove in there.  I was tipped over, and the bike yanked out from under me.  I got to my feet and dashed into the foliage after my dog and my bike.  I got to the scene just as Brandy got to the skunk.  What happened next was too awful to repeat.  Let’s just say that I was ostracized, both at home and at school, for the next week.

Brandy liked skunks.  He would chase them, and attack them.  He never seemed to learn that the horrible result was a product of these actions.

There was a time…  I was working on my bike.  The dog managed to slip around another family member and make one of his dashes.  I didn’t think about it.  I jumped on the bike to give chase.  This turned out to be a mistake.  I should have pursued on foot.

I could not take the bike through some of the places the dog could go.  So I’d have to work around them.  That gave Brandy a bit more resting time, and prolonged the chase.

We were out on a country road.  The dog was ahead and moving, but he was obviously tiring, and I was not.  I’d have him soon.

I saw the skunk at the roadside, before the dog did.  Brandy ran past the skunk.  The skunk turned to look at the departing dog.  I hit the brake and stopped.  The dog stopped.  He looked at me, and as if to say,  “What?  Why aren’t you still chasing me?”  Then he saw the skunk. 

I yelled at Brandy,  “NO!”  As usual, he ignored me.  He went for the skunk, and I mean went for it!  I tried to get untangled and away.  I wasn’t successful.  That was a big skunk.

Once again, the dog and I were covered in tomato juice, and sleeping on the porch, and once again, I was humiliated and ostracized.

I wonder what the skunk told his neighbors, family, and friends.