It's Dark!

I took last week off and cycled somewhere every day except for Thanksgiving and the Friday after. Some days I just went for a ride by myself. While these were enjoyable and I felt like I was getting away with something since I was riding while everybody else was working, it's really more fun to ride with someone else.

Take for example last Tuesday's night ride with the crew. We met at a parking lot behind some office complex which would make a good set for a sci fi movie. There was a good crowd going and I assumed we were just going to ride out to Tom Brown and take a couple of laps in the dark, which had me a little nervous anyway since I had never ridden there with lights. We rolled out on Fern and I immediately took a wrong turn and ended up in the back yard of some type of construction company. I bushwhacked back toward the railroad tracks, found the trail, and caught the group at the road crossing. On a whim I had mounted a little red light that I had won at San Felasco to my seat post that afternoon and as we turned onto the busy road I was glad I had it flashing at all the cars piling up behind me. I avoid riding on the road if I can and I have never ridden on the road at night and certainly not in Tallahassee and definitely not in rush hour traffic!

We weaved through neighborhoods, back yards, driveways, and gravel roads. BW was in front of me as we rolled down hill into a cul de sac. I watched as he hopped the curve then disappeared. I found him at the bottom of a concrete ditch which I had no idea was there. If he hadn't been where I could see him I'd have gone into it head first. Well maybe that's a little dramatic since I don't ride where I can't see and was slowing down but still it could have been ugly. He wasn't hurt but I would have screamed like a girl if I'd have ridden off in it.

Through woods, over trash piles, a wrong turn, barking dogs in back yards as we rode behind houses, I had no idea where we were until we came out at the Alford Greenway parking lot. I was thinking "I'm 54 years old, riding through these streets like I'm a kid late for dinner, what the heck was I thinking, where are we going?" But you know what? It was FUN! I did feel like a kid. I remember riding my Sting Ray bicycle home from Paul Huffstetler's house after dark through my old neighborhood in Jacksonville, trying to get home before my Mom got mad at me for being late. How cool is that?

The single track through the Greenway and TB wasn't as hard in the dark as I'd feared and we finished up at the sci fi parking lot after 1.5 hours of riding. It seemed like we had been riding for hours. As I listened to them talk about the ride I realized they had been riding this area for more than 15 years so to them it was just another night ride. But to me it was quite an adventure.

Conquistador

I recently read that the main reason people don't race bicycles is that it's hard. Duh. But when you think about that it makes a little bit of sense. If you don't enjoy the suffering or get that feeling of accomplishment from doing something difficult you probably won't be back after the first race.

This past weekend at the FSC race at San Felasco the woods were perfect, the temperature was perfect, in fact everything was perfect. I had just picked up a leftover 2010 Epic for Rupe the Friday before and he was ready to roll when we got there Saturday morning. We pulled into the big hay field in the back under blue skies, unloaded, and set out for our first sight in lap. Other riders told me the layout was completely different from last year and that Gone Riding had used the new Conquistador section as part of this year's loop. We had ridden this trail this past summer and I knew it contained some pretty big climbs for Florida. Even with that in mind I was so excited to be riding I hammered up the first two. About half way up the third one I started feeling a little queasy and I noticed I was breathing really hard. I told myself "hey old man this is practice" so we backed it down some and I was glad we did because we climbed that same hill another 3 times. After we took a second and even slower lap we were tired but still looking forward to the race the next day. In fact I was feeling pretty froggy since I knew New Steve wasn't coming and neither was Flyin Frank and with virtually nothing really technical on the course I thought, dare I say it, I had a chance to stand on the top step.

Race day we lined up for the 11:30 start time under the same perfect conditions as the day before. I noticed a couple of new faces in the old slow class but most of the pre race chatter was about surviving the hills. Yea I was feeling downright confident, so confident I grabbed the lead heading up the two track only to lose it on the power line before we hit the single track. No problem I thought, I'll just hang here in 5th and wear them out when we hit the hills. Just then 4th cross rutted and stopped right between two trees completely blocking my path but not the next three riders who just went around both of us. Now all that confidence was quickly replaced by complete panic. I said something rude to the offending rider and set out after the quickly disappearing conga line.

I learned one thing, passing riders on an uphill is hard. Some just let me by others I had to coax out of the way. The sick feeling from yesterday was coming back, I started to get a stitch in my side, and I knew I couldn't keep that pace up for long. I was on 3rd place's wheel coming out of the woods and let her (yea her) break the head wind across the field and through the scoring chicane. This lady is very popular, people were cheering her, telling her "he's right behind you", and I thought I heard some boos when I passed her. I was even afraid to take a drink until I put a little distance on her and by the time I did my throat was so dry I almost couldn't swallow. I kept watching her and figured if I could maintain that distance until we hit the hills again I at least had a spot on the box. That's when I saw 2nd place not that far ahead. I slowly caught up to him and when he slipped on some rocks at the base of the hill I thought YES and went around.

I figured no way he could get clipped back in and get on my wheel but he did. As we heaved and panted up the hill he told me"first place is long gone". Turns out it was one of the new faces I had noticed at the start but I didn't care because I just knew I had this guy beat, he even slipped on a root and spun around, but was still able to stay on my wheel.

I did all the self talk I could to get my body to go faster. I knew that Monday I would tell myself that all I had to do was just dig deeper. But on that last hill, on Sunday afternoon, I just couldn't keep him behind me, and he went on to get second less than 45 seconds ahead of me.

Team Stormin Norman did pretty well for the day. Rupe got a third in his class and I was happier for him than I was for my results. We had some good race stories to share on the ride home and that's really what it's all about anyway isn't it?

"It's a beautiful day" U2

Frost Already?

It's sure been great weather this past couple of weeks, even had frost one morning which is unusual before Thanksgiving. With it being so pretty I figured it was time to take the Fam for a bike ride. We loaded up Sunday morning and headed for Forest Meadows. It had been awhile since Bunky had been on a bike so I planned an easy route and promised not to run off and leave her like Rupe and I normally do on these rides. She wanted to try the new Silk trail toward the end of the ride and she really enjoyed it. We ended up riding for about 2 hours at a very sedate pace but all of us enjoyed the day.

Earlier in the week we attended the premiere of Race Across the Sky and that had Rupe all fired up to do some long distance events. He said "I'm going to ride that race someday, maybe when I'm 30". I did the math in my head and figured I wasn't going to be doing it with him. But I did enjoy seeing his enthusiasm for something like that. We have the Tour of San Felasco coming up this January so he'll get to see how a longer distance feels. I remember when I worked out west as a young man I puked all over my boots every day I spent much time working over 10,000 feet so I know how the altitude effects me. I can't imagine what it's like to race a bicycle at that altitude.

This weekend is the FSC round at San Felasco and we're both looking forward to racing. Although I did enjoy the Spaghetti as much if not more than these cross country races.

I took the dog for an off road run the other evening. We did about 3 miles on our hunting lease which has quite a bit of elevation change for Florida. The dog had a fantastic time, if only I could just enjoy my runs like that dog does.

"Come hear uncle john's band by the river side" Gratefull Dead

A Rude Awakening

I like to read stories about long distance cycling. Trans Rockies, TNGA, the Leadville 100, all spark my imagination. I sometimes wonder if I could do something even close to that kind of mileage. Well at about mile 55 of the Dirty Spaghetti this past Saturday I got my answer.

It was a perfect day with temps in the 50's when we rolled out of the parking lot. Of course we didn't go to the check in like we were supposed to, or the mass start, so we got out ahead of most of the off road crowd. In fact I was the only one who put on their assigned number in my little group of outlaws. The graded roads had just had the ditches pulled so they were a little soft and still damp from the previous week's rain but other than that conditions were perfect. We played a new (to me) game of yellow sign tagging and basically just rolled at a pleasant pace.

The lunch stop in Boston came up just in time and we were almost the first ones there. It was a bigger pack leaving lunch as we had gotten in with a faster group that was riding the 85 mile option so I got to experience getting my elbows rubbed and my front tire almost taken out as they passed me. Since we were early for the 60 mile group we missed the sag stop after lunch. I hadn't refilled my water at lunch so at mile 50 my camel back went dry. It was about then that the stronger, faster, younger, and more experienced riders started to pull away from me. I told my legs to pedal but they wouldn't listen. I watched three of them disappear over the hills. I dropped down to the middle ring and sat up to enjoy the scenery for the last 10 miles.

So I got my answer. I finished the 62 mile option but I don't think I could have gone much further. Part of the 85 mile group came in just after I did, 20 more miles and in almost the same time. Oh well; the sky was blue the sun was warm, the beer was sweet, the spaghetti was excellent, and we all ate it on the porch like so many dogs after a long hunt. My knees were sore and my sit bones tender but other than that no lasting damage. I know I won't take that honkin back pack again.

I now have even more respect for those long distance riders. I can't imagine doing something like that for a couple of days in a row while sleeping on the ground, and climbing mountains. Once again I have been humbled.

"You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need" The Rolling Stones