fellowshipofthechainring.org

El Cap and I just got back from our yearly Deschutes River Trail ride, and I thought I would pass on a few learned nuggets of knowledge from today’s ride:

• Don’t wait all summer to ride – yes, I admit it, I hadn’t touched my bike all summer. Between missing Reach the Beach (it was one of the little sprockets’ birthdays), volunteering as a counselor at my eldest sprocket’s middle school camp, doing the California family vacation, and not balancing my time well, I just flitted away most of my summer not riding.
• 4,500 feet of elevation gain makes a difference – okay, I do have a fine attention to the obvious, but having your first ride of the summer be at 4,500 when you’re used to sea level does make a difference
• Make sure all riders double check all equipment before leaving home – if you don’t believe me, see my next note
• SPD pedals were not made for standard tennis shoes – El Cap can tell you all about what it was like riding 14 miles through single track littered with roots and rocks, but I must at least point out that those little clipless pedals don’t leave much room for the shoe
• Momentum is your friend, but Mosquitos are Not – those ruthless mosquitos are waiting at every turn for you to stop and take a drink of water. When they begin a full assault (and they did today), it’s time to move on
• Be sure to purposefully ride right over rocks (if they aren’t too big) - the best way to be ready for tricky rocky sections is to be comfortable riding right over the rocks, then you won’t be spooked by them. I make a point of this every year, but today, when we had to limit our ride (see the point on spd pedals or the one before it), I deliberately worked rocks into to my routine as early as possible. I had to break out of my tentative shell early to enjoy the ride before it was over.
• We have too much noise in our lives – this may seem like a bit of a non-sequitur, but it rang true. In my post-ride euphoria, I noticed how quiet it was in the house in Sunriver where we’re staying. There was no tv on, no music, just the slight hum of the air conditioner. I began to relax and stop for a moment. Then, it came to me: there’s this thing that our minds are capable of doing called thinking. I’m not talking about making decisions on what to eat, what to say to someone, what to buy, what show to watch. No, it’s something completely different and even enjoyable. When you sit down without any other distractions, you can actually contemplate, reflect, ponder, ruminate, think fondly of what’s important in your life.

So, my advice to you is to carve out a chunk of time in your busy schedule and get on your bike. Go on a cycling adventure, even if it’s only 14 miles, but don’t forget your cycling shoes. Attack the obstacles in your way, realize that they are much smaller than they seem, and then relax, turn off the tv and radio and sit down on a comfortable chair and let your mind go wild…

Then, post about it.

I can see by your spandex that you are a cyclist.
I see by your spandex you are a cyclist too.
We see by our spandex that we are both cyclists.
If you get some spandex, you can be a cyclist too.

I must give credit to the Smothers Brothers for their parody of the Streets of Laredo song. I just gave it a cycling twist.

PS – Hey, Bob!

Listen, my children, and you shall hear a cautionary tale of a faithful bike whose persistent noise saved his owner fifty or more dollars. It all started on a cool Sunday morn in April . . .
I first noticed an odd sound during the Vancouver Discovery Walk ride (yes, the walk that’s also a ride). My bike started making an odd clicking noise. I thought I broke a dérailleur by doing bunny hops during the first half of the ride (by the way, bunny hops are so much more fun with clipless pedals). Fortunately, the bunny hopping had nothing to do with the clicking noise—it did, however, lead to a snapped spoke, but that’s another story.

I had not heard this exact noise before, and the last time I heard an odd noise, I discovered that I had the wrong pannier rack. This time, I knew that Little Joe (my bike) was telling me something. I don’t speak mountain bike, so I tried getting everyone within range of my bike to listen and look for odd sounds and movements, but no one could spot anything. By the end of the ride, I decided I better keep and eye (and ear) open to figure out what was wrong.

Fast forward to two weeks later: two nights before Reach the Beach. As I inspected my bike, I heard a clank: the sound of some kind of metal dropping to the garage floor. I looked around, but I could see nothing, so I chalked it up to one of many possible screws, nuts, or bolts that sat precariously on a shelf edge (yes, I need to clean up the garage). Then, upon further inspection, I noticed that my spoke was broken. I was about to feel shamed about all the bunny hopping I had been doing, but then I thought about the fact that this was a mountain bike, and if you can’t bunny hop with a mountain bike, you have no business with a mountain bike, so I chalked that one up to wear and tear.

I took the bike down off of the hanging hook, and it was then that I noticed the disc brake was not working correctly. Something was wrong; the break wouldn’t work at all. Great, I thought [notice the italics], it’s only two nights before Reach the Beach, and I have to get my spoke and disc brake fixed. I did a little internet search and discovered that it could be a disc break drum that fell out. It was then that I figured out the clanking sound; it was my disc brake drum pad landing on the garage floor. I explored the garage floor, and low and behold, there was a flat, little metal roundish looking thing, so I picked it up and wondered how much a replacement would cost.

The next day (the day before Reach the Beach), I dropped off the bike with the drum pad at Performance, and the guy fixed the spoke, and let me know that the drum pad was fine (it turns out that the drum pads are metalic, and there’s a magnet in the disc brakes; it just must have had too much dirt in between the housing and the pad), so he just stuck it back in. So after all the little mechanical mishaps, I figured that the clicking sound riddle was solved—end of story.

But it was not the end of the story. Not more than 2 miles into the Reach the Beach ride, the sound came back. Fortunately, unlike the Discovery Walk, this was a heavily supported ride with bike techs at every stop, so I had an REI tech check the funny noise. Just my luck, as he popped my bike up on the bike stand and explored all gears, Little Joe went mute—no sound at all. He looked it all over, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, so he did one last check: he measured the chain. Low and behold, the sound was simply a loose chain. He warned that loose chains must be replaced as soon as possible. He offered to replace the chain for free, but I still would have to pay for the chain, but alas, I had no loose change on me for the ride, so I had to wait.

It took me two weeks before I finally got around to getting a chain, but it only took me about 20 minutes to swap out chains. It’s a good thing our friendly neighborhood REI tech guy caught the problem. Had I not swapped chains in time, I would have to replace not only my chain but my freewheel and one or more chainrings. Of course, the real hero of the story was Little Joe’s persistent noise; had Little Joe said nothing, I would have probably waited another year, and then it would have probably cost me $100 dollars, instead of the $22 dollars for the chain.

And the moral of the story is: listen to your bike.

Ever since Discovery dropped their cycling team last year, I’ve been forlorn wondering what will become of Hincapie, what will become of American cycling. It turns out that things are looking up, and Team Columbia is the team to watch out for this year.

I’ve been reading snippets of cycling news and was aware that there was a new team, titled Team Columbia, but for some strange reason, I kept thinking it was the country Columbia. It never dawned on me that it was a team sponsored by Columbia Sportswear, a local company. Well, not only has Columbia stepped up and sponsored a team, but they’ve revamped the stellar Team High Road, with George Hincapie as captain, and the amazing talents of Kim Kirchen, and Mark Cavendish to name a few.

As their previous team name (Team High Road) implies, they are making a public anti-doping statement:

Through this stringent program, each member of the team gives a minimum of 26 random blood and urine tests per year. The volume of test results enables ACE to build extremely detailed longitudinal profiles of each rider so that they can detect small changes in body chemistry that might be caused by doping.

I hate to say this, but only time will tell if they can truly keep to the “high road.” I sure hope they do. I definitely know that they will be the team to watch out for in this year’s Tour de France.

Bicycling magazine has a 4-week crash course regimen for preparing for a century, called “3 Workouts to Save Your Butt“, and after having ridden today’s 18-miler, I can tell that the training finally seems to be paying off.

The regimen includes 4 rides per week, with 3 of the rides being 1-hour rides, and 1 long ride per week. The long ride (weekend rides) is more to get in saddle time and preparing the body for the beating it will take, and the 3 1-hour rides are mostly standard rides. Mostly…

You see, the bread and butter of the training ride is the weekly, “911″ interval ride. That involves a 10-minute warm-up, 15-minute quad-pounding, 80% maximum heart-rate, lung-bursting power ride, 10-minute recovery, 15-minute muscle-searing, 80% maximum heart-rate, “what-was-I-thinking” ride, followed by a 10-minute cool down.

I never knew how long 15-minutes could be until I tried sustaining my heart rate at 80% of maximum. I also never knew how short 10 minutes could be until I sandwiched 10 minutes between the abuse of those 15-minute stretches.

The article said it would make a difference, but I wasn’t sure until today. I had already been doing the regimen for two weeks now, and I’m beginning week three. Today’s ride was the non-kill-yourself one-hour ride, and I wasn’t sure what kind of shape I was in until after I did a hill (I took 170th from Farmington up to Bany and then rode up Bany to the “something Granada something” park) and then took off down Farmington. My legs just felt great, and I kept extending the length of my ride, until I found myself heading on Rood Bridge Road towards the park.

About three or four times on the last stretch of about 6 miles, whenever I was tempted to let off on the speed, I decided not to let up, but work it more. I used every excuse to push it instead of let up. I purposely took the route on a section that would have some uphill just so I could work my legs some more, and when I finished I felt great!

I just can’t wait to get on the next ride…uh, wait…I mean the ride after the next (my next ride is the 911 ride).

Celebrity Look-Alike Tribute

I would like to add a little “shout out” to today’s celebrity look-alike. It goes to the woman in the car waiting to turn left at Farmington near 189th. She looked just like Janice from “The Muppet Show,” who, incidentally — or possibly purposely — looks a lot like Carly Simon 20 years ago, who also incidentally, looks like Mick Jagger 30 years ago.

Way to go, Janice!

I thought I would share my thoughts after Reach the Beach, but then I had a question: Why post in prose, when you can post in haiku?

The finish line at Pacific City.

My Plea

Beach I do beseech
to your grains I may reach while
you restrain the winds

---

      

Post Mortem

Achilles’ tendons
mighty bands of tensioned steel
relax a little

Back to Bald Peak today, since I now have my bike computer up and running (see previous post for that drama). Okay, so it wasn’t completely up and running, but you will have to check out that post to understand why.

I felt much stronger heading up the hill…I guess that is what a little regular training will do! (Mental note: “Training makes the hills easier…”) Anyway, since I felt stronger I decided to continue on up to the Bald Peak State Park, getting a few more miles of hills in. The weather was just perfect, at least for a hard workout: cool and cloudy, yet no precipitation. There were some runners out, which it was nice to see. Oregon really starts to wake up once spring approaches.

Once at the top, I didn’t really take a break since I was eager to experience the downhill. Halfway down, two cars passed me. Soon after, however, I noticed that they were slowing down. SHOOT! there was a stop sign at the base of one of the hills! I came within 15 feet of slammed into the rear car! (Mental note: “Remember where the stop signs are.”) On I went, approaching the famous Laurel Rd. Without pedaling, just keeping a tight tuck, I was already up to 45 MPH* by the time I reached the Bald Peak Rd intersection. A little bit farther, and I started to pedal, and pedal hard. I was up to 58 MPH* and still had the steepest section ahead. But again, there was a car in front of me, only going about 52 MPH…didn’t want to play tag with him, not again.

Coming back around to the lower part of Bald Peak Rd, I saw about 50 cyclists go by…it was the Portland Velo riding group (side note: I love the “And The Point Of The Helmet Is…?!?” photos on their website). They were on their way up Bald Peak Rd. I decided to join them, even though it would take me back UP the hill I just did.

I must say that going back up that hill the second time is much harder than the first…hmmm, go figure. We all came back down Laurel Hill, though I waited for a good break in the people going so I wouldn’t have to slow down for anyone. I still ended up passing a guy at 52 MPH*, which surprised him. At the bottom he caught up and asked how fast we were going…must have been his first time.

Yes, Samwise, it was a good day to ride.

*The 45 MPH and 58 MPH were faster than I was really going, since I was still calibrating my bike computer. The 52 MPH should be right on, though. So I still haven’t broken my old speed record…yet.

Okay, I was inspired by Samwise to get on my bike. He is up galavanting around in the San Juan’s with his bride, while the rest of us are stuck with the same old scenery. But I digress.

Yesterday I was wanting to enjoy the unexpected blue sky and warm air. My toe is still hurting from being jammed right before the Shamrock run two weeks ago, so running was out. I was hesitant to get on my bike, because somewhere in the back of my mind I was feeling like there was some repair that I had neglected and had since forgotten about. But it has to be fixed sometime, might as well be now.

First I noticed that my bike computer’s battery was dead. I was actually going to use that as an excuse, since I couldn’t know how fast or far I had gone (two of the most important things for me on a solo ride). But then I thought that was a lame excuse. I checked the tires which still had good air in them despite my not riding my bike in many, MANY months. So it wasn’t a flat that was causing me to fret. Hmmmm…well, if something else needs work, I will find out soon enough (don’t worry, I checked the brakes right after checking the tires).

[Note: these are just my thoughts chronologically...I am not foreshadowing an eminent disaster.]

I headed out west on Farmington, since it is a great way to get some scenery. I wasn’t sure how far or what route to take, was looking more to see how I felt on the bike before making such life altering decisions. I felt good so I heading in the direction of Bald Hill.

I love this hill, as you can tell from previous posts (5/22/06 and 6/23/06). Everything to the east of it is flat, so getting there is a piece of cake. The climb is only 1.25 miles to Laurel Rd, which was my destination. I didn’t feel too exhausted climbing the hill, partially because I knew it was a short hill so mentally I wasn’t overwhelmed.

Coming down Laurel was a rush, though I have no idea how close to my record of 56 MPH I was. I want to break that this season, but first have to get that bike computer battery… Anyway, the rest of the ride was nice. It was a beautiful day for a ride.

[Update: 3/31/07 On my ride today, I realized that the repair I needed to make was that my handlebar's tilt needs to be adjusted, and my derailers tuned up.]

Okay, my wonderful bride caught my error from the post: Today is a Good Day to Ride. As it turns out, I’m really too heavily influenced by Star Trek. My waterbottle doesn’t really read “Today is a Good Day to Ride,” it states, “Never a Bad Day to Ride.”

Both sayings are true, but only the “never a bad day” comes from the REI waterbottle. “Today is a Good Day to Ride” is a famous Klingon phrase (or a spin-off of it): Today is a Good Day to Die! I guess I can claim the Today is a Good Day to Ride as my own; at least I don’t think I saw it anywhere else.

So, in conclusion, today is a good day to ride.

K’plagh!

My REI waterbottle has a daily reminder, “Today is a good day to ride.” Some may think otherwise, but I say, even in rainy Portland, “today is always a good day to ride.”

Why just two weeks ago, my bride and I dropped our kids off at the GPs (Grandparents) and went out for a 1-hour spin. The weather was sunny and cool. There wasn’t any need for rain pants–just a pair of long lycra pants and a long-sleeve jersey was all we needed.

Then, last weekend, Mrs. Samwise and I took the kids to Rood Bridge Park to ride. It kept raining on and off, but it kept the park virtually empty. I pulled the Lumbering Rhino out from retirement, and hooked up the kid carrier, so I could haul our two littlest ones around the park for awhile. They are not quite the smallest sprockets on the freewheel anymore, and I had quite a time going up some of the hills, but it made up for the slower pace. It’s only about a 1 – 1.5 mile loop around the park, but it’s got many hills, ponds, and streams to look at, so you can loop around a few times.

I almost forgot the little waterbottle reminder this past week when I got sick. I was feeling well enough to work on Wednesday, but I chose to drive. Then, on Thursday, I couldn’t find my shoe covers after looking for 2 minutes, so I used that as an excuse (even after I filled the waterbottle that proclaimed it was okay — nay — good to ride). With a guilty conscience and a heavy heart, I drove away from home, leaving Little Joe behind. Finally, I did it, I found everything I would need the night before and rode my bike to work.

What a feeling. It put me in such a great frame of mind. The best news was that the riding wasn’t over for the day. I would be able to ride a second time on my way home. Do you know what my reward is? A three-day weekend filled with…yeah you guessed it…more riding. Yee-ha!