Night Riding Issues:

We’re in it now. It’s dark and getting darker. Today’s sunrise, here in Peachtree City, was at 07:24. Sunset will be at 17:29. That’s about 14 hours of no-Sun. The Winter Solstice is still 19 days away. We won’t have this much daylight for another 38 days. The times may be a little different where you are, but if you are in the northern hemisphere, the effect is much the same.

How does one cope? Indoor trainers, rollers, spin classes, and gym work help to maintain condition and prepare for the better times ahead, but… they don’t do much for the “cabin fever.” Most of us are involved in cycling, at least in part, because we like to get outside! I for one, get seriously crazy if I go more than 48 hours without spending some time outside. I’m also one of those folks who tend to develop SAD if the shades are drawn. (I’ve lived in harsher climates. I didn’t do well there.) The answer, at least in part, to this is to go ahead and ride outside.

But nighttime riding requires some thought. There are two factors to contend with, visibility and cold. We’ll deal with temperature in a future post. For now, let’s concentrate on visibility issues.

Cost/Benefit. An outdoor cyclist starts to feel the “pinch” in mid-September. At that point loss of daylight begins to curtail outside riding. But we tend to have mild weather through the end of October. The “mirror” to this time occurs from mid-February through March. Conditions at that time of the year can be variable, but ride-worthy weather is not uncommon. So a good light set will add about 90 days to one’s yearly calendar. And that is without resorting to a higher cost in technical clothing. An investment in technical weather gear can compliment your lighting and add another potential 100 days to your calendar.

Further, a good light set will, with reasonable care, last for years.

Example: Assume you spend $150.00 on your lights. Assume a four year life span for them. That’s a potential of 360 more ride-able days. Let’s say you only take advantage of half of that, and ride about an hour on each of those days. You have gained 180 hours, at a cost of about $0.83 per hour. Not bad.

Of course, if a savvy rider were to add just a bit of cold weather clothing, even more ride time could be recovered. (Remember, cold weather clothing works in daylight too!)

See and be seen. The visibility issue breaks into two more parts. A rider must be able to see, and to be seen.

To see requires lights… good ones! That sounds obvious, but I am often astonished that folks miss this point. This is not a place to “economize”! Good, solid, bright, weather capable lights are absolutely essential. And yet, I often have the discussion in the shop. Folks literally try to negotiate the need for better lights. Sorry. If you want to see you need a strong light source.

Here’s the principle: Stopping distance should never exceed visibility. That’s simple survival. If you can’t see it in time to avoid it, you must slow down. Walking is pretty slow, even compared to slow cycling. A powerful flashlight makes a pathetic cycling headlight.

Lighting can be divided into roughly three categories. 1) See me, 2) Get me home, and 3) I intend to be out here!

That first category doesn’t require too much, a decent LED or small halogen light will do the trick on the front, and a bright flashing red LED taillight will work for the rear. These things are best used to increase a rider’s visible presence. They are warning lights. They do not help one see one’s way while riding.

The second category is used for two purposes. The first is as an emergency resource for the individual who had no intention of riding after dark. Things can happen. A late day ride, at this time of year, can become a night trip home. A single flat, an unexpected detour, or even a short stop to chat with a friend can put you in the dark. A “Get me home” light is just adequate to ride with, at reduced speed.

The “Intentional Lights” are strong and have long burn times. They work well at speed up to, and in excess of 20 mph. Some are actually brighter than automotive headlights, in a narrow beam. They do cost more.

Incidentally, it takes more lights to ride off-road than on. It’s darker on the trails or mountain biking, and the turns are much tighter. This kind of riding is best done with a combination of two lights, one on the bar, and another on the helmet.

Being seen takes more than lights. Yes, lights are good. Use them. Use lots of them. But the must be augmented by reflective material. Remember, lights work well to the front and rear, but it is essential that you be seen from the sides as well. An absolute minimum would be a reflective vest or sash and reflective ankle bands. Those geeky wheel reflectors are actually a super good idea. Use strips of adhesive reflective material on the bike and clothing.

It’s a good idea to test your visibility set up. Enlist the aid of a friend (preferably a cyclist) in an automobile. Go out at night, in the neighborhood, and ride in front of your “chase car.” Ride both toward and away from the car. Then arrange to ride across the front of the car, as if you were crossing an intersection as they were approaching in the cross street. Get a report from your “chase driver.” Then use the information to improve your setup.

Looking Ahead ~~ The Audax Ride

In the Spring of the year, we’ll do my annual Audax Ride. It is this ride that gives this blog its name.

Audax is a riding style not often found in the United States. The features of an Audax tour are pretty constant. It’s a group ride, where the group stays together. There is a group leader who is responsible for setting the pace. There is a predetermined route. There are reservations at the major stops for meals and lodging. It is a self-supported tour. The group carries what is needed to accomplish the tour. If a member of the group has a difficulty, the entire group stops and works as a team to fix the problem, be it mechanical, a flat, or other issue.

You find these in Europe a lot. There are clubs, and organizations of these things all over the continent. Some Audax events are long, multi-day affairs.

The ride we do is a 200K. That’s about 125 miles. We do it in one day. There are several rest stops along the way, and one really good lunch stop, with a full, sit-down meal. There is a large “snack” at the end of the ride. The usual tone of the ride is one of laughing chatter all day long. In short, it’s a lot of fun.

Getting ready for the ride. Doing 125 miles in one day can sound intimidating. Oddly, a fair number of riders who have done this one, have never gone farther than 65 miles at one time before ride day. It’s entirely “doable.” Preparation begins with simply getting on the bike. Gradually build time and capacity. The goal is to be doing 10 to 12 hours per week, by late March. Here’s a recipe. Start with our Spin Class, that gives you two hours per week. Be sure you are getting in a two to three hour, low effort, “integration ride.” Each week. That’s a total of about five hours. To this add another relatively short ride of an hour or so. See, you’re already doing six hours.

Gradually increase the times on both of your outside rides, until, by the end of January, you are doing a two hour ride and a four to five hour ride every week. That’s four training sessions a week, totaling eight to nine hours.

In February, add another short ride, of about an hour. This one should include a 15 minute warm up section, about a half hour of hill repeats at moderate intensity, and a 15 minute cool down. Then, near the end of the month, add another hour, either as a separate ride at low intensity, or by extending one of the other four or five rides.

Along about that time, I’ll start doing Audax Tune Up Rides.

The Tune Ups. Look for these rides in March and April. We do three of them. Two are about 45 miles long, and the last one is about 65 miles. We do these for several reasons. The first and most important, is to give us all a chance to practice riding in this group-stays-together-controled-pace style of riding. The second is to act as an assurance that each individual will be able to accomplish the goal. The routes for the Tune Ups are deliberately more hilly and challenging than the overall route of the Audax Ride.

Words about pacing. I’m often asked about the pace of these rides. The intent of this question is always, “Will I be able to do this thing?” It’s an honest question, but a simple and straight forward answer is often misleading. So first we must discuss averages. (Sorry, but this really is necessary.)

Averages Defined. Most cycle computers have an average speed function. This usually does not record unless the bike is moving! That means that this is a rolling or moving average speed. Unfortunately this is misleading in two ways. First off, rolling average does not get you to the end of the ride. It is your over-all average that gets you to the finish. Very few bicycle computers will deliver an over-all average. Second, being able to maintain a high average for a shorter distance, does not necessarily translate to a sustained lesser over-all average.

Here’s the straight story on the Audax Ride. The over-all average will be close to 12 mph. To do this a rolling average of about 14.5 mph is necessary. This is a bit harder than it may seem. Simple arithmetic tells the tale. To deliver a 14.5 mph average for over eight and a half hours, requires that one must be going faster than that for most of that time. Bear in mind, there are plenty of hills and one mountain on the Audax Ride Route.

Can you do it? The best way to answer that question is to start training, and then do the Tune Ups. By the end of the three Tune Up Rides, you and I will both know what your chances of a successful completion are. Be ready to chat with me about that during and after the Tune Ups. I’m pretty good at judging a rider’s ability, and I will not pull any punches.

Why on Earth should I want to do this? Like mountain climbers say, “Because it’s there!” The sense of accomplishment after meeting a challenge is enormous. The camaraderie on these things is great. They are, in a word, fun! And the Monday morning bragging rights are pretty good too.

Dawn Patrols

The first of the season’s Dawn Patrols is coming up fast. (Look for details at the end of this post.) I get asked about these. “Why go riding so early?” is the most common question.

The History: Some years ago, when I started riding brevets, I realized that, on the longer events, I’d be riding at night, and riding when fatigued or sleep deprived. I felt the need to simulate this condition in training. So I started getting up stupid early, and going out to do some moderately long rides. Sunday morning worked best for this, although I did these on other days too.

I found some interesting things. It’s amazingly quiet out at that time of the night. Night riding has its own challenges, and rewards. Traffic wasn’t a major issue. In fact, traffic was all but non-existent! Cool.

I don’t know when I started thinking of these as “Dawn Patrols.” The phrase comes from World War I, when flyers would rise before dawn, and take off into the early dusk, to be able to patrol the skies as the sun rose. And of course there’s Snoopy and the Red Baron, doing their Dawn Patrol bit.

At any rate, I was out riding in the small hours of the morning, and turning toward home, just about dawn. That sets the stage.

I talked about what I was doing with some friends, and to my surprise, several expressed an interest in doing this kind of ride with me. Thus was born the, “Dawn Patrol.” I’ve done these every winter since.

There is not a real, repetitive schedule to the rides. I try to get one or two in each month. As the season progresses, the rides start earlier. The idea is to become accustomed to riding for long periods of time, in the cold and dark. It works. And in the words of the sage Bobke, “We’re getting tough and buildin’ character.”

Over the years a format has grown up. We meet either in Fayetteville, or Peachtree City, in the parking lot of a pancake restaurant. We go out and ride in the night. At the beginning of each ride, we ride someplace that one would ordinarily avoid. We can do GA-54, right through PTC, for instance. There is no traffic! The centers of Tyrone, Palmetto, Fayetteville, and Peachtree City are magical in the Christmas season. We stop somewhere around dawn at some place where we can get some coffee. Then we ride back to the start. The post ride pancake breakfast is entirely optional, but usually well attended.

Riding pace is interesting. Night group rides tend to be group rides. That is, the group tends to stay together for safety and mutual support. The pace is strong enough to stay warm, but not overly vigorous. We don’t leave stragglers behind. We have, over the years, dropped a couple of folks off early. The structure of the rides is loose enough to allow this. No one rides as fast at night, and no one rides as fast in cold weather. These tend to be base building rides. They are good sociable rides. We tend to have lots of camaraderie, along with occasional bouts of mutual survival work.

Along the way, we’ve seen it all. Occasionally we have sudden turns in the weather, requiring an abrupt change of plans and routing. Usually, we end up cancelling out on at least one of these every Winter. That last is because it’s simply too cold to attempt.

What should one expect from a Dawn Patrol? The rides will get progressively longer as we go through the Winter. The idea is to ride so that we reach a convenient coffee stop at just about dawn. We stop for coffee, and then ride another hour or so to get back to the start. Consider, dawn will be between 07:00 and 07:30. The start times are posted, so you can figure about how long each ride is. Note that I’m doing this in terms of time and not mileage. Each route will be different. Expect to deal with differing road conditions, from four-lane highway, to occasional stretches without pavement. Some of the routes have us doing the last bit of return on Peachtree City’s recreational paths.

I hope you’ll come out and join us.

Details:

Conditions: Ride goes at any temp above 20 degrees F, and all weather. (Yes, we’re still doing it if it snows.)

Pace: Night Time Touring, approx 13 mph avg.

Requirements: This is serious night riding. Helmets, strong headlights, good strong taillights, reflective vests or sashes, reflective ankle bands are required. (Additional reflective and lighting equipment is a good idea.)

Strong Suggestion: Gear up as if you were on a tour and self-supporting.

Dates/Locations:

• 6 Dec. 05:00 Fayetteville IHOP parking lot.
• 17 Jan. 04:30 PTC IHOP
• 7 Feb. 04:00 Fayetteville IHOP
• 28 Feb. 04:00 PTC IHOP

Friday Follies ~~ The Big Jump

There are three guys I go mountain biking with. Well, in truth, I sometimes go mountain biking, and I’ve been known to go with a lot of different people. But in this instance, I’m referring to one of those collections of old friends. The four of us have known each other for a long time. Over the years, we’ve done a lot of things together. We’ll call the guys Gil, BB, and Pete. (Names changed. If this is about you, you’ll know who you are.)

The four of us have that kind of long lasting friendship that travels well through time. When we manage to get together, we are all right back where we started, laughing and joking as if only a day had passed since our last meeting.

Some years ago, I introduced each of the other three to the sport of off road bicycling. That’s not quite correct. Gil “discovered” mountain bikes on his own. He just hadn’t actually taken his into the woods yet. BB went once with Gil and me, and he was hooked. Pete was the hold out.

Like me, Pete had a motorcycling back ground, but his was all road, and totally crazy. I’d done a fair share of off road motor cycling. I’d also always been willing to let Pete lead on the road. In addition to crazy, he was good. He had the reflexes and the grace of the natural athlete. On more than one occasion this saved him. But the aging process took a toll on my friend, as it does on all of us.

It was one of those weekends. The weather was nearly perfect. It was a crisp mid-Fall day. The four of us had met in the mountains. We were going to ride this incredible trail I’d heard about. None of us had ever been on this one. According to the locals it was an amazing ride.

The thing turned out to be every bit as good as I’d heard. It was difficult to find the trail head. The first couple of miles were gentle climbing up an abandoned fire road. As we progressed, the road got narrower and trickier. There was some comment made about it not being single track, and lacking challenge and fun factor. That was before we came to the “turn off.”

As the locals had promised, there was a sign, a crude hand lettered one, nailed to a tree. We turned, and were instantly climbing some of the trickiest single track I’d ever seen. Inside of a half mile the trail had turned into a goat path up the side of a steep ravine. Another mile of hard technical climbing, and we were riding along a ledge, sheer rock face on the right, and a drop of several hundred feet on the left. We crested the ridgeline, and could see, perhaps a quarter mile of twisting, winding desecent ahead.

Pete was not with us. We’d dropped him. Gil, BB, and I were all pretty winded from the long tough climb. We waited for Pete. This was amazing country. It was old growth forest, lots of huge hardwoods, with almost no undergrowth. Somehow this area had been spared by the clear cutting of the timber companies in the early part of the last century.

Pete arrived, gasping for breath. By that time, we other three had pretty much recovered, so we pushed off. Guys are not always kind to each other. Pete followed, a look of grim determination on his face.

The descent was fast and somewhat technical, but not too challenging. We cooked down the side of the mountain. I almost lost it at a deep gully crossing. That was where Gil and BB passed me, and Pete almost caught up to me. We hit the bottom of the descent and went charging through some fun sections along a creek bed. Then the trail started climbing the next ridge.

This climb wasn’t as steep as the previous one, nor quite as harrowing, but it was steep, and actually a bit more technical. It also wasn’t as long as the first big climb. We came to the top, with Pete barely in sight behind us.

We’d arrived at a sort of almost plateau. The land sloped gently down into denser woods. We didn’t wait for Pete, but just pushed off and went for it.

The trail got faster, the descent steeper. We were soon playing tag with a creek bed, with the sides of the mountains closing in around us. Then we came to it.

After a short fast downhill, the trial twisted and climbed, it topped quickly and turned back down toward the stream. There was a sharp right turn at the stream bank, a veer back into the woods, still going slightly downhill, a fast wide left, and…

One of the first and best rules of trail riding is, “If you can’t see where you are going, walk it first.” A good corollary to this is, “If you don’t know the trail, stay slow enough to allow to react to surprises.” A second rule should be, “Never let ego connect with over-confidence.”

I was in the lead. The trail was fast, but sightlines were limited. I came around a sharp bend, just at the ragged edge of traction and saw it. There was an absolutely huge tree across the trail. No way I was clearing that! I braked hard and veered off the trail to the side, calling out, “Trouble!” Gil, right behind me, saw the same thing, and veered off to the left, stopping hard. BB had heard my warning, and slowed easily as he came out of the turn. The three of us stared at the obstruction.

The tree had apparently fallen some time ago. It was possible to see some daylight underneath it, and the trail was almost gone there. On examination, we could see where riders dismounted, and clambered over the thing. The top of it was a good four and a half feet above the trail.

There are some folks who can jump a beast like that. On examination, I could see some chain ring marks on the top of the log. Not many. And here came Pete, absolutely screaming around the bend.

My friend didn’t hesitate, didn’t even hint at slowing down. He charged right at it. He was going to try to jump it! Incredible!

Pete got the bike off the ground, but way too late, and no where near far enough. The front wheel of the bike hit the log… hard. The impact was about half way up the log face. Pete left the bike, assuming a perfect superman pose, in mid air. He flew clear, just above the log.

From our perspective, it appeared as if Pete traveled horizontally past the log, then stopped in mid flight, and simply went… straight down! There was a thump, a muflled “Oof!” and a puff of dust rose from behind the log.

At that point, Gil, BB, and I all fell down on the ground laughing. I think it occurred to all of us that our friend just might have been hurt, but we could not stop laughing.

Eventually, we managed to master ourselves. We all walked toward the log. That was when Pete’s face appeared from behind the fallen tree. He sort of peeked over it at us, a bewildered and pained expression on his face.

The exploration was over for the day. Pete’s front wheel was well and truly tacoed. I managed to straighten it enough to be ride-able. Barely ride-able, and then only with the front brake disconnected. Pete was pretty banged up. Nothing serious, bruises and a few abrasions, enough to cause one to slow down a good bit.

We made it back to the trail head. It took forever, but…

As we were loading the bikes on the cars, BB came over to me and said, “You know? That place where Pete landed? That was just full of poison ivy.”

Thursday Thoughts ~~ Thanks Giving

Thank you all for riding and being my friends.

Thanks be to the founders of our country.

Thanks for health and time.

Thanks to all soldiers, sailors, and airmen.

Thanks to those who have gone before, to pave the way.

It’s a thought.

The Count Down

It’s exactly one month until Christmas. That would give a lot of writers an automatic bit of “column fodder.” But that isn’t the Count Down I’m writing about. This is the time of year when I get very intent about next year.

Oddly, this is the time of year when all the other cyclists seem to migrate, along with the last of the songbirds, to somewhere else for the Winter. I stop seeing other riders while I am out there.

Consider this timeline:

• 15 days until the first Dawn Patrol
• 26 days until Winter begins
• 36 days until the Annual Penance 100+
• 53 days until the second Dawn Patrol
• 71 days until Mid-Winter
• 74 days until the third Dawn Patrol
• 95 days until the fourth Dawn Patrol
• 102 days until the last Dawn Patrol
• 108 days until Daylight Saving Time begins
• 116 days until Spring begins
• 120 days until the last Spin Class
• 207 days until Summer begins

Along the way to this we have twice weekly Spin Classes, Novice Road rides on the second Sunday of each month, Christmas Lights rides, Nights Under Lights Rides, Audax Tune Ups, the Annual Audax Ride, and any number of other daily and weekly markers. Each and every one of these is an opportunity to improve fitness, polish skills, make friends, ride with friends, and enjoy our world.

For some reason, the coming time of cold and dark is easier for me, if I count down to the warm times, if I have a calendar, and specific tasks. I know, rationally, that I can not affect the passage of the seasons, but there is that part which is comforted and reassured by the actions. It is as if, I do the things that will bring Spring, that will move the days along. Regardless, the training has begun in earnest, and the days, well filled, pass quickly.

The Trip That Didn’t Happen

I’m fairly “weather tolerant.” I will ride in a lot of conditions. That said, I bailed on this past weekend’s North Triple Gap Ride. So did everyone else. Why? The weather stank. It was cold, very rainy, and windy. I did go out and ride on Sunday afternoon. Again, the weather stank, but at least it was local, and not mountainous.

This seems to happen to me about every other year. I’ll attempt a trip to the southern Smokies just a bit too late, or too early. The ride gets cancelled.

I love riding up there, but weather is a serious consideration. There was one year when I pushed things a bit too far. I got caught, in what is sometimes called a “wintery mix.” I was climbing Wolf Pen Gap, in sleet, ice, and a bit of freezing rain. I won’t bore you with details, but I got out, and I was lucky to do so.

I often wish I was closer to the mountains. The problem is that it’s over 100 miles to Helen, GA. About a third of the roads to get there are kind of poor. I’m not happy about the thought of possibly getting into trouble that far from home. I’m even less happy about the risk of getting someone else into that kind of predicament.

I urge folks, always make your own decision. I do tend to push for “when in doubt, go.” But considered caution should be the watchword. Safety first.

There will be other days, and other rides. We will go north and do the “North Triple,” but it will have to wait until next year.

Sigh.