What a weekend! Both Saturday and Sunday had highs of over 55 degrees, so the Saturday rides and the Sunday ride had large turnouts. While it was still slightly below freezing when the wheelsucker left home at 9:15AM Saturday, it warmed up nicely; Sunday morning started above freezing and hit a similar – or better – high.
For Saturday, the wheelsucker’s workout instructions were to get "as much time in zones tempo/threshold power zones as you can accumulate", for four hours.
After lots of e-mail chatter on the ABRT listserver about doing the Goon Ride, everyone but Mike Wagner showed up at Davidsonville, including Ace and Nat and new members Christine and Amy. With ten miles on the wheelsucker’s legs before the Davidsonville ride even started, it was easy for him to roll off the front early, just after crossing Governor Bridge Road, simply by holding Z3 watts. Bill "don’t drop me" Neumann followed the wheelsucker. A couple of minutes later, the tandem rolled up and pointed out that the three bikes/four riders were well off the front. The wheelsucker sat up so as to not split up the ride so early, but the tandem and Bill continued, and after crossing 214 Steve Owens bridged up; that group stayed away to the rest stop (nice going, guys and gals!) Holding wheelsucker Z3 power was an excellent way to go OTB on short climbs, but the wheelsucker would slowly drag himself back, on the flats and descents. Then someone caught site of another group up the road, the peleton surged, and the wheelsucker went OTB big time! Fortunately the peleton slowed at the start of the climb after the left turn on Ed Prout. The wheelsucker caught back on and then just holding Z3 power on the climb, rolled off the front (with the jeers of team mates saying the group was slowing for a pee break ringing in his ears) also staying away until the rest stop.
After the rest stop, a small group split left at Boyd’s Turn Road for the short cut, but the main group did the full course. Ace looked strong on the wall, with Michel hammering off the top and looking good. The wheelsucker, noticing that he was not riding one of his weight weenie bikes, sat up and waited for the tandem to roll by, grabbed a wheel and took the tow back to the front. Shortly after the short cutters were caught on Sudley Road, Ace was pinned against the shoulder by the tandem and several other riders, behind the wheelsucker. Ace asked the wheelsucker to move left – which he did, not realizing that Ace was being pinned deliberately – and Ace jumped hard. A chase led by Nat went after him, but only caught him after the turn onto route 2. The wheelsucker found the tandem’s back wheel and hung on. Later, a tiring wheelsucker was gapped again on the climb out of the flood area on Patuxent Parkway before crossing 214, but the light saved him, and he caught up as the leaders rolled through a fresh green. The setup for the sprint was looking interesting. The wheelsucker took a short wheelsucker pull, rotated off and got to the back of the rotating part of the paceline, just before the start of the last dip. Several of the leaders went over a new pothole, with Rick Paukstitus losing a water bottle, and Ace flatting. With Ace out, Nat went with two guys on his wheel. A chase of Steve Owens, Tom Aga and the wheelsucker were a short distance behind. Nat pulled away for the easy win, with Michel looking strong in second. The wheelsucker put in no effort at all letting first Steve and then Tom tire, and rolled across third.
A few of the riders met for lunch at Chipotle in the Annapolis Mall, after the ride. The wheelsucker was long past being able to hold Z3, and slowly rode to the mall, finding Christine, Amy and Ace in Chipotle, and had a fajito burrito. The tired wheelsucker needed those calories badly!
Wheelsucker data:
Ride time 4:40:26
2899 calories burned (and more than that added between Chipotle and Pussers)
Zone 1 (Recovery) time: 112 minutes
Zone 2 (Endurance) time: 48 minutes
Zone 3 (Tempo) time: 51 minutes
Zone 4 (Threshold) time: 42 minutes
Zone 5 (VO2Max) time: 13 minutes
Zone 6 (Anaerobic) time: 13 minutes
Saturday night was the Latitude/ABRT kickoff party, and a great time was had at Pussers, with the new women’s team and the elite team introduced, a number of team members congratulated on their 2008 season, some key volunteers thanked, 2009 kit handed out and much more. Many stayed for dinner after the party, and some of those ended up at the Doetsch’s place later for more partying and fireworks. Being Doetsch’s neighbor must be rather exciting.
President Doug encouraged everyone to do a 10:00AM Sunday ride. This merged with the Peter Penzell Sunday ride, which turned out to be to Sandy Point and back with some extra loops for high gear/low cadence muscle tension intervals. A large group were in the Annapolis Park & Ride at the designated time, though some number of them appeared to be hung over and short of sleep. The wheelsucker was again trying to do a specific workout – this time it was stay in zone 2 for two hours – and again found himself going OTB on short climbs and then catching back on the flats and descents. As the group started their big gear low cadence intervals, the wheelsucker cut short the ride and headed home for a break and then a recovery/coffee ride with his girlfriend, Leslie. But the sun was out, the temperature was up, and he needed to switch his long sleeve jersey and vest for a short sleeve jersey – it must have been 60 degrees – before heading out with Leslie. They did the Lake Ogleton loop, and then went downtown for coffee. Everywhere they want, they saw cyclists enjoying the day. But the drivers were out in force too, with traffic through downtown Annapolis stopped. Why couldn’t everyone ride their bike?
Wheelsucker data:
Combined ride time: 3:32:39
1685 calories burned
Zone 1 (Recovery) time: 102 minutes
Zone 2 (Endurance) time: 88 minutes
Zone 3 (Tempo) time: 18 minutes
Zone 4 (Threshold) time: 2 minutes
Zone 5 (VO2Max) time: 0 minutes
Zone 6 (Anaerobic) time: 0 minutes
Total calories burned over the weekend: 4584. Weight gain 2 pounds.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Monday, February 2, 2009
The Day the Aliens Landed on High Rock
After a fairly laid back Davidsonville ride on Saturday I decided to head up to Western MD yesterday to do some hill repeats, and give the legs some serious work. Nat had decalred the roads rideable on Saturday, and I figured with the temps pushing 50 I'd at least have good roads in the valleys. As I rolled into Myersville around noon the bank temperature read 44 degrees. Not bad for a part of town that always seems to be 10 degrees colder than everywhere else. As I went to my usual starting place I noticed 3 cars (one with a bike rack) in my usual spot. Undeterred I pulled in between them knowing that they were already out on the route. I set off, and almost immediately encountered ice on Rt 17. This turned out to be a rather isolated phenomenon, and I knew it would only improve as the day went on. Still I knew I'd have to keep alert for the rest of the ride.
The snow melt was quite marked in places, and I ran into several impromptu streams in the middle of the road in my trip up 17. After a quick descent into Smithsburg which to my surprise was devoid of ice and slush I briefly ran into a group of 3 serious looking riders (1 in an AVC kit) who had just finished descending 491 into Smithsburg. After a quick wave I started my first red line climb up to Cascade. A few minutes in I caught some movement out of the corner of my eye. My first thought was deer, but it turned out to be a couple of hikers crossing 491. While I honestly didn't see a trail in all of the snow they seemed to know where they were going. Halfway up the climb I decided to risk Ritchie Rd, and add another mile or so of climbing. That road turned out to be surprisingly clear as well until after the descent. At that point I decided I'd risk the conditions on High Rock. My plan was to go up easy the first time to scout out for ice especially on the descent. The last thing I wanted was another "Ali visits the ice in Philly" story.
As I got to the base of the climb I couldn't help but notice an empty tour bus parked across from the closed park. I'd never seen it there before, and it just didn't make sense to see it there. I've seen school busses at the top of High Rock, but never an empty bus at the bottom when the park was closed.
I started my first ascent in the small ring (yeah I was surprised I had one too) at an easy pace. It is amazing how scenic and relaxing that climb can be at 240 watts. Just after the first speed bump I ran into a hiker carrying ski poles (no skis just poles). He gave me a quick wave, and I just gave him a weird look. It did occur to me that if there was a ski-able area down the North side of the rock it would be a great way to get some free skiing in. As I continued to climb the rock at a leisurely pace I made note of the best line for the descent, and ran into a couple more hikers figuring the nice weather brought them out. After reaching the top I went back down, and started the real training (low cadence/high gear sufferfest.)
As I ascended the second time I saw more hikers scattered about the climb. I think I spent more time dodging hikers than ice, and local yahoos in pickups and motorcycles. The third time up the climb it became apparent that hikers were descending the rock en masse. But where were they coming from? The fourth time up the climb I stopped at the top for a nature break, and got the answer to my question. I spotted another hiker coming off the Northeast side of the rock. I didn't even know there was a trail back there. Last time we headed up that way we were met by a couple of guys with assault rifles. (that incident erased all doubts I had about Harshman's descending ability!) Apparently though the trail doesn't cross that area.
As I got to the bottom of the hill I noticed some of the hikers congregating around the bus. "Aha the mother ship!" Why I didn't see that before I don't know. The weird thing was that these hikers were from all walks of life; all ages, all physical statures (OK no one was obese), but you get the idea. It just seemed like a really ecletic group. They had to be aliens!
After my next repeat I noticed more congregating around the bus, and decided to get out of there before the mother ship lifted off, and caused possible mayhem on the narrow roads. I made the quick descent into Thurmont down 550, quickly refueled, and hit the Rt 77 climb where apparently the sun never shines. After the rollercoaster on Stottlemeyer I finished out with a nice fast descent back to the starting point. Four hours later the bank read 55 degrees on my way out. Not as warm as down South, but a very enjoyable ride given this winter so far.
For those who are new to the club there is a reason we always start our hill rides at a low point. It is much easier to ride back to your car if you blow up. (Harshman's short cuts aside).
Like all good aliens this particular species left a calling card. As aliens tend to be "high tech" creatures I decided to utilize modern technology to find them. Low and behold they actually had a web site. Go figure!
In any event if you are interested you can check out www.wanderbirds.org Apparently they charge 20 bucks a head, and rent a charter bus to drive to their hikes. So I had to ask myself; "Why can't ABRT do this?" Twenty bucks a head for a trip to Thurmont leaving from the Davidsonville park and ride. I bet those charter busses can fit several bikes underneath, along with coolers etc. We park the bus somewhere, offer multiple ride options, and everyone eventually meets back there for a relaxing ride home.
The snow melt was quite marked in places, and I ran into several impromptu streams in the middle of the road in my trip up 17. After a quick descent into Smithsburg which to my surprise was devoid of ice and slush I briefly ran into a group of 3 serious looking riders (1 in an AVC kit) who had just finished descending 491 into Smithsburg. After a quick wave I started my first red line climb up to Cascade. A few minutes in I caught some movement out of the corner of my eye. My first thought was deer, but it turned out to be a couple of hikers crossing 491. While I honestly didn't see a trail in all of the snow they seemed to know where they were going. Halfway up the climb I decided to risk Ritchie Rd, and add another mile or so of climbing. That road turned out to be surprisingly clear as well until after the descent. At that point I decided I'd risk the conditions on High Rock. My plan was to go up easy the first time to scout out for ice especially on the descent. The last thing I wanted was another "Ali visits the ice in Philly" story.
As I got to the base of the climb I couldn't help but notice an empty tour bus parked across from the closed park. I'd never seen it there before, and it just didn't make sense to see it there. I've seen school busses at the top of High Rock, but never an empty bus at the bottom when the park was closed.
I started my first ascent in the small ring (yeah I was surprised I had one too) at an easy pace. It is amazing how scenic and relaxing that climb can be at 240 watts. Just after the first speed bump I ran into a hiker carrying ski poles (no skis just poles). He gave me a quick wave, and I just gave him a weird look. It did occur to me that if there was a ski-able area down the North side of the rock it would be a great way to get some free skiing in. As I continued to climb the rock at a leisurely pace I made note of the best line for the descent, and ran into a couple more hikers figuring the nice weather brought them out. After reaching the top I went back down, and started the real training (low cadence/high gear sufferfest.)
As I ascended the second time I saw more hikers scattered about the climb. I think I spent more time dodging hikers than ice, and local yahoos in pickups and motorcycles. The third time up the climb it became apparent that hikers were descending the rock en masse. But where were they coming from? The fourth time up the climb I stopped at the top for a nature break, and got the answer to my question. I spotted another hiker coming off the Northeast side of the rock. I didn't even know there was a trail back there. Last time we headed up that way we were met by a couple of guys with assault rifles. (that incident erased all doubts I had about Harshman's descending ability!) Apparently though the trail doesn't cross that area.
As I got to the bottom of the hill I noticed some of the hikers congregating around the bus. "Aha the mother ship!" Why I didn't see that before I don't know. The weird thing was that these hikers were from all walks of life; all ages, all physical statures (OK no one was obese), but you get the idea. It just seemed like a really ecletic group. They had to be aliens!
After my next repeat I noticed more congregating around the bus, and decided to get out of there before the mother ship lifted off, and caused possible mayhem on the narrow roads. I made the quick descent into Thurmont down 550, quickly refueled, and hit the Rt 77 climb where apparently the sun never shines. After the rollercoaster on Stottlemeyer I finished out with a nice fast descent back to the starting point. Four hours later the bank read 55 degrees on my way out. Not as warm as down South, but a very enjoyable ride given this winter so far.
For those who are new to the club there is a reason we always start our hill rides at a low point. It is much easier to ride back to your car if you blow up. (Harshman's short cuts aside).
Like all good aliens this particular species left a calling card. As aliens tend to be "high tech" creatures I decided to utilize modern technology to find them. Low and behold they actually had a web site. Go figure!
In any event if you are interested you can check out www.wanderbirds.org Apparently they charge 20 bucks a head, and rent a charter bus to drive to their hikes. So I had to ask myself; "Why can't ABRT do this?" Twenty bucks a head for a trip to Thurmont leaving from the Davidsonville park and ride. I bet those charter busses can fit several bikes underneath, along with coolers etc. We park the bus somewhere, offer multiple ride options, and everyone eventually meets back there for a relaxing ride home.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
You know you live in the Mid-Atlantic when...
Only in the Mid-Atlantic area can you go from having possibly the coldest ride of the winter (for me anyway - I know two weeks ago was actually MUCH colder) to the warmest (I had 65 degrees on my computer today) in the space of 24 hours. And, to boot it will probably snow tomorrow!
About 15 people showed up for yesterday's Saturday ride, including new member Darren, an Australian who we gave grief for not knowing it was SUMMER there. At start time, it was about 28 degrees with the northwest wind starting to blow. The first half was a nice tempo ride and since it was with the wind, it actually didn't feel too bad. We all rolled into the Dash-in roughly the same time and after taking a correct head count by the alpha male, we rolled on to the beach. I could see the white caps on the bay as we rode up the boardwalk. This was a bad omen. Things split up a bit going up the hill but rejoined for the trip through Fairhaven. Over the wall, it split again but regrouped at 258. After 258, Ali (who was not feeling well) and I hung back a bit to see if anyone else was coming from the split over the wall, but not seeing anyone else coming we decided to try and get back on. Ali dropped me pretty quickly as the cold was taking its toll on me; he never quite got back on but joined up with a few others who came off the main group. The wind was really starting to blow and it was soooo much colder (especially on the left side!) as I continued alone through the rollers to Rt 2. I stopped to wait for the group behind. I only had to wait a minute or two, but it was worth it as the company really rejuvenated my rapidly chilling spirit and we rode fairly easily back to the park and ride. The chit-chat in the parking lot was short lived as we all were eager to get warmed up.
What a difference 24 hours makes! I did the Penzel Saturday loop, plus the River Road section with just a vest, knee warmers and summer gloves - and that is not much clothing for this whimp. Since I was feeling beat up from yesterday, I just had a nice recovery ride and enjoyed the warm sunshine. I love these 60+ degree days in the middle of winter, they are such a gimme.
Oh well, back to rain, snow and 30 degree temperatures this week. But, looks to be warm(er) for the pre-party Saturday ride if you have any faith in the 7 day forecast.
About 15 people showed up for yesterday's Saturday ride, including new member Darren, an Australian who we gave grief for not knowing it was SUMMER there. At start time, it was about 28 degrees with the northwest wind starting to blow. The first half was a nice tempo ride and since it was with the wind, it actually didn't feel too bad. We all rolled into the Dash-in roughly the same time and after taking a correct head count by the alpha male, we rolled on to the beach. I could see the white caps on the bay as we rode up the boardwalk. This was a bad omen. Things split up a bit going up the hill but rejoined for the trip through Fairhaven. Over the wall, it split again but regrouped at 258. After 258, Ali (who was not feeling well) and I hung back a bit to see if anyone else was coming from the split over the wall, but not seeing anyone else coming we decided to try and get back on. Ali dropped me pretty quickly as the cold was taking its toll on me; he never quite got back on but joined up with a few others who came off the main group. The wind was really starting to blow and it was soooo much colder (especially on the left side!) as I continued alone through the rollers to Rt 2. I stopped to wait for the group behind. I only had to wait a minute or two, but it was worth it as the company really rejuvenated my rapidly chilling spirit and we rode fairly easily back to the park and ride. The chit-chat in the parking lot was short lived as we all were eager to get warmed up.
What a difference 24 hours makes! I did the Penzel Saturday loop, plus the River Road section with just a vest, knee warmers and summer gloves - and that is not much clothing for this whimp. Since I was feeling beat up from yesterday, I just had a nice recovery ride and enjoyed the warm sunshine. I love these 60+ degree days in the middle of winter, they are such a gimme.
Oh well, back to rain, snow and 30 degree temperatures this week. But, looks to be warm(er) for the pre-party Saturday ride if you have any faith in the 7 day forecast.
Never give up
This is not really about bicycles or ABRT, but since I'm Hefe, I can pull this off. Its a lesson of determination coming from a proud father.
A few years ago, when Floyd Landis (illegitimately as it turns out) won Stage 17 of the Tour de France, I made my two daughters, neither of whom are bike racing fans, watch the stage. The lesson that I was trying to impress upon them was that no matter how bad the game seems, no matter how far down you are, no matter what, you go out and do your best. And good things happen when you do.
A few weeks later, we find out that Landis tested positive for illegal testosterone use. I refused to believe it at firs for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was embarrassment when I told my daughters. Here I was bragging about his gritty performance in the face of unspeakable odds and it turns out the dude was cheating.
But apparently the core lesson was not lost on either daughter, but this is a story about the youngest.
Both girls are synchronized skaters. For a guy, this is an odd sport. Its like ice dancing but with upwards of 16 to 20 girls on the ice at one time. Its a judged sport, which means its open to all sorts of nefarious behavior on the part of judges. But my word to my girls has always been: go out , have fun and do your best. You have no control over anything else, so don't worry about it.
My eldest has been doing this for 8 years now. Her younger sister watched every practice and went to every competition for and joined the team when she turned 8.
DC, despite its wealth, is not a hotbed for figure skating in general nor synchronized skating in the particular. Our club has difficulty in attracting participants and we are always scrambling to put together competitive squads. For the younger girls, this has been especially difficult in the past few years. In fact, my youngest dagger's team has never placed higher than last (yeah, last) in USFSA competitions and only won a few, less competitive ISI events. For five years, she went to every practice, every competition (some as far away as Atlanta and Detroit) and was always last. She takes multiple private lessons a week and attends camps in the summer. She knows every song from every routine her club has performed and practically every one from her competitors, too.
Last year, her best friend moved up to another squad and the "re-org" left her bitterly disappointed. I refrained from being too much of the little league dad, but did give her the option of not continuing or taking a year off and concentrating on her field moves. In the end, she decided to stick it out.
The coach had her and two other girls start on their routine in August, putting in extra sessions early on to get things started off right. The team evolved into a strong squad and it looked like this was the year for them. The music is beautiful as are the dresses and the choreography. The girls were stoked and loaded for bear when they took the ice for their first competition in early December in Cape Cod.
The routine came off almost perfectly and the girls were very pleased with their performance. There was the usual deconstruction of what when on, but all in all, they were happy and fired up (as were the parents). But remember the comment about nefarious behavior: yep, you guessed it: last place. What made it a bit harder was the celebration for one of the older teams, which placed fourth overall in their bracket. The younger girls were totally jobbed on this one, but the coach took the judges' comments (a coach can get face time with the judges for detailed critiques) and the girls wen back to work.
This past weekend was the Eastern Sectionals, which is basically the regional championships for the east coast. Her team is not "nationally qualifying" so this is the end of their USFSA season and a last chance facing strong competition. And strong it was: the pre-juvenile division has 24 teams, 12 in two "flights". The top six in each flight would go on to compete in the finals on the last day of the competition.
The girls put on a sterling display: flawless form the eyes of this amateur judge. Like every other parent in the club, our fingers were crossed: "please don't place them last." I had a sense, though, that his was special and my hunch proved correct: the girls placed fourth in the flight and were heading to the finals. It was a crowning moment for them and their celebration underscored that. My daughter even hugged me, in public, which is not something 12 year girls usually do.
The girls actually did not fare as well in the finals, but even placing last in that flight meant that they were mid-field overall. And for them, that was as good as walking away with a gold. There were lots of tears yesterday but, in the end, the girls left the rink happy and proud of their accomplishments.
For me, it was a far better lesson than Stage 17: for five years, my youngest worked and for five years, her team came up empty. For a 12 year old that is nearly 1/2 of her life. But she never gave up, she never sat out, she never stopped working. And that kind of determination is a lesson for any athlete competing in any sport
A few years ago, when Floyd Landis (illegitimately as it turns out) won Stage 17 of the Tour de France, I made my two daughters, neither of whom are bike racing fans, watch the stage. The lesson that I was trying to impress upon them was that no matter how bad the game seems, no matter how far down you are, no matter what, you go out and do your best. And good things happen when you do.
A few weeks later, we find out that Landis tested positive for illegal testosterone use. I refused to believe it at firs for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was embarrassment when I told my daughters. Here I was bragging about his gritty performance in the face of unspeakable odds and it turns out the dude was cheating.
But apparently the core lesson was not lost on either daughter, but this is a story about the youngest.
Both girls are synchronized skaters. For a guy, this is an odd sport. Its like ice dancing but with upwards of 16 to 20 girls on the ice at one time. Its a judged sport, which means its open to all sorts of nefarious behavior on the part of judges. But my word to my girls has always been: go out , have fun and do your best. You have no control over anything else, so don't worry about it.
My eldest has been doing this for 8 years now. Her younger sister watched every practice and went to every competition for and joined the team when she turned 8.
DC, despite its wealth, is not a hotbed for figure skating in general nor synchronized skating in the particular. Our club has difficulty in attracting participants and we are always scrambling to put together competitive squads. For the younger girls, this has been especially difficult in the past few years. In fact, my youngest dagger's team has never placed higher than last (yeah, last) in USFSA competitions and only won a few, less competitive ISI events. For five years, she went to every practice, every competition (some as far away as Atlanta and Detroit) and was always last. She takes multiple private lessons a week and attends camps in the summer. She knows every song from every routine her club has performed and practically every one from her competitors, too.
Last year, her best friend moved up to another squad and the "re-org" left her bitterly disappointed. I refrained from being too much of the little league dad, but did give her the option of not continuing or taking a year off and concentrating on her field moves. In the end, she decided to stick it out.
The coach had her and two other girls start on their routine in August, putting in extra sessions early on to get things started off right. The team evolved into a strong squad and it looked like this was the year for them. The music is beautiful as are the dresses and the choreography. The girls were stoked and loaded for bear when they took the ice for their first competition in early December in Cape Cod.
The routine came off almost perfectly and the girls were very pleased with their performance. There was the usual deconstruction of what when on, but all in all, they were happy and fired up (as were the parents). But remember the comment about nefarious behavior: yep, you guessed it: last place. What made it a bit harder was the celebration for one of the older teams, which placed fourth overall in their bracket. The younger girls were totally jobbed on this one, but the coach took the judges' comments (a coach can get face time with the judges for detailed critiques) and the girls wen back to work.
This past weekend was the Eastern Sectionals, which is basically the regional championships for the east coast. Her team is not "nationally qualifying" so this is the end of their USFSA season and a last chance facing strong competition. And strong it was: the pre-juvenile division has 24 teams, 12 in two "flights". The top six in each flight would go on to compete in the finals on the last day of the competition.
The girls put on a sterling display: flawless form the eyes of this amateur judge. Like every other parent in the club, our fingers were crossed: "please don't place them last." I had a sense, though, that his was special and my hunch proved correct: the girls placed fourth in the flight and were heading to the finals. It was a crowning moment for them and their celebration underscored that. My daughter even hugged me, in public, which is not something 12 year girls usually do.
The girls actually did not fare as well in the finals, but even placing last in that flight meant that they were mid-field overall. And for them, that was as good as walking away with a gold. There were lots of tears yesterday but, in the end, the girls left the rink happy and proud of their accomplishments.
For me, it was a far better lesson than Stage 17: for five years, my youngest worked and for five years, her team came up empty. For a 12 year old that is nearly 1/2 of her life. But she never gave up, she never sat out, she never stopped working. And that kind of determination is a lesson for any athlete competing in any sport
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Noon Ride Recap
Considering all of the trash talk going on the last couple of days it was surprising that only eight riders showed up. The rest of you all (except for young Tom and anyone who was with him) are now officially wusses!
On a nice sunny day with calm winds Tom Aga, Hef 1, Doug M, Mike Wagner, myself, and new club members Steve Wahl, and Christine Wehlburg set off on the normal Saturday ride. We were soon joined by Iain who had ridden from home. Doug, Tom, Iain, and Steve Wahl were on their fixies. The ride started out fairly fixie friendly until Wagner got on the front, and took a monster pull. Then things started to fall apart in other ways. Hef 1 broke his chain. Then Iain had to bail due to time constraints. Shortly thereafter Doug bailed. The rumor is that he was upset that no one had shown up for his breakfast. Actually Wagner showed up, but couldn't find the house although I think Mike was having one of those days as he mistook Christine for a man in the parking lot.
Steve Wahl was having some problems clipping in, but that seemed to settle down as the ride went on. The ride would surge every so often and break apart, but then would eventually regroup. We fought a headwind all the way to the rest stop, and decided we'd head back via the Boyd's Turn route as Tom's thermometer was reading 21 degrees, and it was starting to cloud up. We did have a nice tailwind on much of the return trip. Just as we turned onto Fairhaven Rd Steve Wahl's pedal issue suddenly got a lot worse. In fact part of his left pedal literally fell off, and he was unable to clip in completely. This was made even worse by the fact that he was on a fixie. Undeterred he continued the ride, and rode rather strongly in sections.
Shortly after we crossed 258 Mike, and I took off and did a nice long interval through the rollers. Once we reached Route 2 we backtracked to join up with the rest of the group. Apparently some woman had offered them warm pie. I'm still kind of unclear as to exactly what was offered, and how it was offered, but Tom, Steve, and Christine seemed to be happy with the exchange.
The rest of the ride was pretty uneventful, and needless to say we didn't stand around chatting in the parking lot!
Mike and I both agreed that even though it was colder the weather overall was better than last year's Rite Aid ride.
Kudos to both Steve, and Christine for coming out on a day like today especially for their first Saturday Davidsonville experience. I learned some interesting things from both of them, and it is nice to know there is another Monty Python fan on the squad.
Next Saturday the ride moves back to 10AM unless something really unusual happens. Hopefully some of you wusses will get off the couch, and we'll have a better turnout. Remember the Navy team is starting their trash talking already!
On a nice sunny day with calm winds Tom Aga, Hef 1, Doug M, Mike Wagner, myself, and new club members Steve Wahl, and Christine Wehlburg set off on the normal Saturday ride. We were soon joined by Iain who had ridden from home. Doug, Tom, Iain, and Steve Wahl were on their fixies. The ride started out fairly fixie friendly until Wagner got on the front, and took a monster pull. Then things started to fall apart in other ways. Hef 1 broke his chain. Then Iain had to bail due to time constraints. Shortly thereafter Doug bailed. The rumor is that he was upset that no one had shown up for his breakfast. Actually Wagner showed up, but couldn't find the house although I think Mike was having one of those days as he mistook Christine for a man in the parking lot.
Steve Wahl was having some problems clipping in, but that seemed to settle down as the ride went on. The ride would surge every so often and break apart, but then would eventually regroup. We fought a headwind all the way to the rest stop, and decided we'd head back via the Boyd's Turn route as Tom's thermometer was reading 21 degrees, and it was starting to cloud up. We did have a nice tailwind on much of the return trip. Just as we turned onto Fairhaven Rd Steve Wahl's pedal issue suddenly got a lot worse. In fact part of his left pedal literally fell off, and he was unable to clip in completely. This was made even worse by the fact that he was on a fixie. Undeterred he continued the ride, and rode rather strongly in sections.
Shortly after we crossed 258 Mike, and I took off and did a nice long interval through the rollers. Once we reached Route 2 we backtracked to join up with the rest of the group. Apparently some woman had offered them warm pie. I'm still kind of unclear as to exactly what was offered, and how it was offered, but Tom, Steve, and Christine seemed to be happy with the exchange.
The rest of the ride was pretty uneventful, and needless to say we didn't stand around chatting in the parking lot!
Mike and I both agreed that even though it was colder the weather overall was better than last year's Rite Aid ride.
Kudos to both Steve, and Christine for coming out on a day like today especially for their first Saturday Davidsonville experience. I learned some interesting things from both of them, and it is nice to know there is another Monty Python fan on the squad.
Next Saturday the ride moves back to 10AM unless something really unusual happens. Hopefully some of you wusses will get off the couch, and we'll have a better turnout. Remember the Navy team is starting their trash talking already!
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Slip Sliding Away: Sunday in Philadelphia
The wheelsucker's scheduled Sunday workout was:
Ride fixed gear bike on a rolling course. Ride mostly in heart rate 2-3 zones with some 4-5a on small uphills.
The wheelsucker thought this should be easy enough to do in the Philadelphia area, and he thought the standard Sunday ride 8:45AM starting at the dog statue would work well. Besides, Sunday was warmer and sunnier than Saturday, and the wintry mix forecast for Saturday had been mostly a no-show, and the roads appeared bare. However, when the wheelsucker rolled up to the little park with the dog statue, he was only the third rider there, one of the others being Super Brit1. After waiting a few minutes for other riders to turn up, the three decided to roll over to the Italian fountain behind the Art Museum to see if there was a ride starting there to hook up with.
On the way there, the third rider disappeared leaving Super Brit and the wheelsucker -- neither of whom knew any routes -- wondering what to do. Super Brit and the wheelsucker decided to see if they could remember the Vino Velo ride route, but problems started pulling out of the parking lot when they disagreed regarding whether the Vino Velo route went straight across Kelly Drive, or was a right turn onto Kelly Drive. While this particular issue was resolved in favor of going straight, it did not take long for Super Brit and the wheelsucker to find themselves beyond their known world, clearly off the normal Vino Velo route. But this was not too bad, as the day was nicer than Saturday, the road they were on did have a bicycle lane, and looking at the brightest area of the sky, they figured they were heading Northwest.
An hour into the ride things were looking good; Super Brit was looking for an easier ride, so the wheelsucker and his fixie were not pushing as hard to stay with him, but still the wheelsucker WAS following Super Brit down a hill when all of a sudden Super Brit went down, parting company with his bike and sliding down the shoulder on ice. The wheelsucker's first thought was to avoid hitting Super Brit, but this rapidly became moot as the wheelsucker went down two seconds later and slid with his fixie down the hill. When both riders finally came to a stop, they slowly picked themselves up, leaned against the guardrail and assessed the damage. Super Brit's folding bicycle was more than thirty feet back up the hill. Super Brit was sighing in pain. Both riders had fallen to the left, and the wheelsucker had hit his head (and helmet) on the ground and was shaken up. After some assessment it was determined that neither rider was hurt badly, but both were a little beat up. Jackets were scarred on the elbow and both riders were covered in salt stains on their left sides.
Continuing the ride out of town (where it seemed to be colder than in town) with the possibility of more ice seemed foolish, so the two turned around and carefully retraced their steps. But it was less than five minutes later than the wheelsucker found himself in the bike lane (which was generally less salted than the car lanes) avoiding car traffic, and suddenly on ice. The wheelsucker very carefully tried to ease the bike over to the left towards the traffic lane, but the bike lane was sloping right to left. This effort lasted a short while until the wheelsucker went down on his left side again, but not as hard as the first fall.
After picking himself up again the wheelsucker reverted to survival mode, riding easily in the traffic lane, trying to spot icy patches before he rode over them.
It did seem to be warming up slightly as they headed back towards Philadelphia, and eventually the two decided to head over to Manayunk either for some hills if they could find a dry patch, or for a coffee. Once in Manayunk the coffee won out and Super Brit and the wheelsucker holed up with large latte's (note to Lance and Kyle - these were skinny lattes) and an almond croissant.
After waiting what seemed like sufficient time for some more ice patches to melt, Super Brit and the wheelsucker carefully rode back to the Art Museum area, going easy on Super Brit's pulled groin muscle and their tender hips, knees and shoulders.
The ride back was uneventful, and after a nice hot shower at his girlfriend's home, the wheelsucker assessed the total damage as a headache, a slightly sprained neck, banged elbow, a bruised and sore hip and some mild road rash on his hip and knee. It could have been a lot worse.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Another Vino Velo Ride
Nearly all group rides in the Philadelphia area start from the Art Museum, actually the fountain behind the Art Museum. Of those that do not, most start from the dog statue across the street in a small triangular one block park. There are a few other locations listed on various websites, but on the two occasions the wheelsucker tried those, no one else showed up. While there are multiple rides a day -- nearly hourly -- going from the fountain behind the Art Museum, the 9:00AM Saturday Vino Velo ride is well known and popular. And the tough Philadelphia cyclists are renowned for doing the ride almost regardless of conditions. So it was quite a surprise for the wheelsucker to be parked near the fountain at 8:55AM, getting ready to ride, and not seeing another rider. Surely the Philadelphians could not have been scared off by the somewhat-below-freezing temperatures, the ice in the gutter, or the forecast of "wintry mix"? Finally another rider rolled by and stopped to chat. It was a rider the wheelsucker had ridden with before, on a previous Vino Velo a few weeks ago.
"Super Brit"1 is staying in a hotel in Philadelphia on weekends and doing consulting work during the week in various other cities. Since he is flying all the time, he rides a neat folding bicycle. While this may not sound like the greatest road bike, the bicycle has an SRM and drop handlerbars, and comes close to duplicating the position he has on his various road bikes (which are still in England).
"Super Brit"1 is staying in a hotel in Philadelphia on weekends and doing consulting work during the week in various other cities. Since he is flying all the time, he rides a neat folding bicycle. While this may not sound like the greatest road bike, the bicycle has an SRM and drop handlerbars, and comes close to duplicating the position he has on his various road bikes (which are still in England).
One of the "rules" of the Vino velo ride is that one circles the fountain counter clockwise while waiting for other riders to arrive.
Super Brit and the wheelsucker accordingly circled the fountain and eventually Alex2 turned up. While three riders -- two of them visitors -- was hardly representative of a Vino Velo ride, this did give the group one rider who actually knew the route, a key requirement. Alex, "Myrig" and the wheelsucker set off. Given the forecast the wheelsucker had brought his rain bike, his old Trek 1220 upgraded to 105 ten speed and a Powertap wired wheel, not one of his weight weenie race bikes. It took a while to warmup, as though Super Brit's SRM was reporting 1 degree C above freezing this was while riding past puddles that were clearly frozen solid. Once warmed up, and one the riders realized the crunching sound was from riding over salt, not crunching through ice, the pace increased, with Super Brit driving the pace most of the time, Alex taking over from time to time, and the wheelsucker working harder than he cared to and increasingly concerned about being dropped in some middle-of-nowhere spot somewhere northwest of Philadelphia. The wheelsucker is very good at wheelsucking, but it is probably worth pointing out that the salt on the roads was melting the snow and ice, so there was a lot of dirty water on the roads, and this dirty water was being flung up by the rear tires of Super Brit and Alex. The wheelsucker was turning brown/grey from all of this, and his sunglasses were slowly being covered. But the risks of being dropped in some middle-of-nowhere spot somewhere northwest of Philadelphia outweighed the risks of being completely covered in salt and grit spray, so the wheelsucker hung on, wheelsucking, breathing hard, and taking one or two very short pulls in case anyone was counting.
After riding back through Manayunk onto Kelly Drive, the three crossed the river and rode back to the Art Museum on a particuarly flat -- actually slightly downhill section. By this time Super Brit and Alex had been chatting awhile, and the wheelsucker overheard snippets to the effect that Super Brit was the equivalent of a cat 1 in England, and had a 52 minute 49k TT time. This was enough for the wheelsucker to accelerate enough to pull along side and ask how many watts Super Brit had averaged for those 52 minutes, "340 watts", was the answer! And Super Brit weighs about 130-135 pounds! Super Brit was driving the pace back to the Art Museum and the wheelsucker finally cracked and decided he HAD to take a pull or would not be able to live with himself, so after waiting sufficient time to hope that Super Brit might be tiring, the wheelsucker accelerated, pulled out, passed Super Brit and took a pull. The trouble was that to accelerate and get in front of Super Brit required northwards of 500 watts, and the wheelsucker felt obliged to hold at least 400 while at the front, and as you all know, the wheelsucker's time at 400+ watts is limited, severely limited actually!
A very short pull later, the wheelsucker pulled over, and Super Brit happily pulled through and continued. After waiting a considerable time for Super Brit to tire for real, the wheelsucker had another go; after all, they were close to the Art Museum, how bad could it be? The wheelsucker quickly found out when he slowed on a false flat and suddenly saw Super Brit go by easily, with Alex sprinting to stay on his wheel. The wheelsucker called down to the engine room for flank speed, but nothing noticeable happened, the gap opened and the wheelsucker watched Super Brit and Alex easily ride away. The only good news was that the end of the ride was another three hundred feet further, so the wheelsucker could claim to himself that he was merely cooling down after the ride.
1. Super Brit is actually a mid thirties Welshman named something that sounds like "Myrig" but is probably 27 letters long like many Welsh names. Super Brit started racing as a nine year old, stopped racing while at University, then took it up again. He is the UK equivalent of a cat 1. His TT time is apparently good enough that he has a shot of getting on the podium at the UK TT Nationals if he can ever make the race. Super Brit lives in a downtown Philadelphia hotel on weekends, and in hotels wherever his clients are, the rest of the week.
2. Alex is a mid thirties cat 3 who did not race last year. He rides for Chesapeake Wheelmen. He has won Memorial Hall in a lone breakaway. He is moving to Washington DC soon.
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