Holy Water

As cyclists, water is our life line.  In the middle of a Florida July it means the difference between enjoying the ride and just barely making it home.  This is the story of two such rides, the names have been changed to protect the weak.

Ride #1- Santos Saturday

The Santos MTB trail system near Ocala Fl. was our destination when we left the HG parking lot at 6 am.  In my mind a 6 hour round trip to ride different trails, and trails that I enjoy, is a small price to pay.  We were already sweating after loading Fred's (not his real name) bike in my truck.

We parked at the Land Bridge Trail Head, unloaded, and headed west on single track.  Fred started out behind me as he had never ridden the trail and I had a couple of trips under my belt.  I kept the pace easy, knowing we had planned to ride for 4 hours.  This arrangement lasted until Fred slipped around me when I missed a turn, I noticed the pace picked up slightly.

We got to the Ern and Burn section after about an hour.  This little piece of work has lime rock hills with short but punchy climbs.  It's tight and with no air moving around me I could feel the heat building.  I backed off hoping Fred would notice.  He just kept it pinned.  "Ok" I said to myself "It's going to be a long day if we keep this up."

Now please don't think that I was worried about my ability to finish the ride, and I wasn't mad a him for going a little faster.   I just knew Fred had had trouble measuring out his efforts in the past and didn't want him to not enjoy the rest of the ride. That's just the kind of person I am, always thinking of others.

The Santos trails are custom made for MTB and are so much fun to ride.  Plus, even though I-10 cuts right through it, it still seems like you're in the middle of a forest.  My kind of place.

Land Bridge Trail over I-10

We made it back to the truck just as our water ran out.  We had almost 3 hours in by that time but hadn't touched the trail system to the east.  I at least wanted to do Spider Kingdom before we headed home but Fred was having trouble getting up the energy to get back on the bike.  I downed a cold Coke and a bag of peanuts, and after laying around on a picnic table in the shade, I was ready to roll again.  Fred said he thought he could do a little more, so we rode east and managed to put in almost another hour.  By that time it was well into the upper 90's and afternoon thunderheads were building so we called it a ride and headed home.

When we stopped at a store to gas up Fred came back out carrying a grocery bag full of food and drinks.  He consumed two bags of chips and what must have been 4 bottles of Poweraide ("It was on sale, 2 for 1.") before we passed Live Oak.  As we unloaded I asked if he wanted to ride Sunday, he just gave me a funny look and said to let him know what I was doing.  I didn't call because he looked like he'd had enough for the weekend.  Besides, he doesn't do clay.

Ride #2- Sunday Clay

I really felt bad about dodging church, but it was going to get soooo hot in the afternoon I decided to ride in the morning.  Sam (not his real name), Silk, and The Kid were the only brave souls to show up for our little clay adventure.  We were doing the Flag Loop, Silk was going to go hard, the rest of us were not.

Dirty Proctor (a road) had just been graded, plus it was dry, so all the rocks were on top.  It made for a rough start.  Silk hit the gas and that was the last we saw of him.  The three of us kept the pace steady until we turned onto No Hope Church road where The Kid and I played king of the mountain (he always won) until I couldn't breath.  Sam got a horse fly in his helmet so he didn't play.

Did I mention it was hot?  But I still love riding those clay roads.

With water running low we stopped at a little white church nestled into the pines on one of the big plantations.  There didn't appear to be any services that day so we went around back to the well. That was the best water I have ever tasted.  And it was cold!  So cold that when Sam stuck his head under the hose he started shaking.  I could have sat down in the grass and let that water run all over me.  I settled for just sticking my head under the flow.  After that we refilled our bottles and resumed our journey.  Refreshed by holy water, can I get an AMEN!

On the last few hills I noticed Sam falling behind, which was unlike him.  He had stopped sweating and had this odd look on his face (odder than normal).  We split up on the pavement and he headed home.  Turns out he made it back, but it wasn't pretty.  Something about laying on the kitchen floor while his girlfriend brought him cold towels.

The Kid and I rolled into the HG parking lot with our bikes covered in orange dust and sweat.  The lot had been empty when we left that morning but was full of shoppers by the time we got back.  I always enjoy changing out of my kit with an audience.  We got smoothies and I drank mine so fast I had brain freeze.

I've had enough hot weather for now.  I am well aware of how fast time goes by at this age and I know I'll be wearing arm warmers before I know it.  Still, I'm ready to say uncle on this heat.  At least until next weekend.

Hanging Around

Nothing to do but frown, rainy days and Mondays always get me down.

Yea, sorry about that, it's just what came out.  The rain has been a pain but it always is this time of year in Fla.

Last Weekend 

Last Saturday Irish, Dr. S Works, and a couple whom I can't think up fake names for, rode road bikes from the Oak Valley Publix.  We skirted rain most of the route but had to ride through puddles to get back in.  Even though it was roads I ride on quite a bit I enjoyed the company.  My prep the night before was Chinese and wine, making the ride harder on me than it should have been.  Road riding is such a different animal fitness wise, I know I've said that before.  I still have some work to do.  Sigh.

With rain in the forecast for Sunday we decided to take MTBs and hit Munson.  It was flooding in Beautiful Downtown Havana when The Kid and I rolled out.  We met Ape Bike, Mrs. Ape Bike, and Dr. S Works at the trail head.  Silk for some reason known only to him was riding his CX bike from his house and meeting us there.

It was still raining when we unloaded, with a huge blob on the radar headed our way.  But miracle of miracles we never got a drop.  What I was sure was going to be a rain ride turned out to be dry as a bone.  It had been a while since I'd done a group MTB ride and it felt good.

This Week

Wrecking Ball and Little Wrecking Ball both play in rock bands.  Both are amazing musicians.  Both were playing in a bar in Tallahassee on the same night.  The  Lovely Wife had wanted to go to see the Rolling Stones, I told her this would have to do.  

The music was great, the environment, well, not so much.  Too much of my fellow man (and woman) pressed together in a basement, most drinking, almost all smoking.  I made it through all of LWB's set and 3 songs into WB's when I had to pull the ripcord.  I guess I'm just too old for that stuff anymore.

Holiday

The Lovely Wife gets the photo credit for this

I was surprised that there wasn't a special ride planned for the 4th of July.  Lucky for me Silk and the Kid wanted to do a CX ride around Tallahassee.  We hit roads through campus that I'd never been on.  Then onto the bike path down to Munson (yea again). After a lap of Munson we rolled up the east side and back to HG.

Today

The sweat falls off the front of my helmet, running down my nose and eventually flying off into the wind.  It's early on another muggy Sunday morning and I'm alone on Shady Rest Road.  I'm trying to get my 1.5 hours in before the rain starts at noon.  I can see the clouds building up in the west, piling up like soft serve ice cream cones. 


The zone 2 ride feels easy for some reason, maybe because we didn't go very hard yesterday.  I can even look around at the scenery instead of just staring at my Garmin or my front wheel.  As I descend into a hardwood bottom it gets at least 20 degrees cooler, feeling like a giant door has been left open into an unseen refrigerator.  I actually get goose bumps, but it doesn't last for long.  I pass calves grazing along the side of Lanier Road, they spook and run as I go by.

I consider trying to hit the Strava section but loose interest about half way through, my mind getting caught in a song that I can't get out of. It's the one at the beginning of this blog. It takes me back to 1974 and walking home from high school.  Then my mind jumps to a dirt road behind the lake house my family used to own.  I get lost in the memories.  

I make the right onto highway 12 and head for home, managing to beat the storm which rolls in at 12 just like clockwork.  I get cleaned up and plop down on the couch to watch The Tour.  

Funny but it seems that it's the only thing to do.  

I have no idea why the font changed half way through.  Remember, nobody reads blogs anymore.:)

It Was A Hot Afternoon, At The End Of June

And the sun was a demon.  Clouds were afraid, 110 in the shade, and the pavement was steaming. You win a special prize if you can ID the song that line came out of.  If you do I can bet you're over 50.

A stop for holy water along No Hope Rd.

My normal riding crew has evaporated like sweat on a hot road.  Up until late Friday it looked like I was going to be riding alone Saturday.  I just happened to catch Silk on a slow day and he acquiesced to let me accompany him on a 55 mile clay ride.  We left HG at 9, threading our way through the maze that is Killearn.  The clay roads were in perfect shape, the horse flies didn't seem particularly hungry, and even though it was hot, it wasn't brutal.  Silk's casual pace is just to the level I can talk on the flats but have to breathe on the climbs.  Perfect workout.

I made him stop at Bradley's Country Store on the way back and sit on the porch while I downed the best Mountain Dew I've ever had.

Silk looks kinda old in that rockin chair doesn't he?

The last few paved miles back were in full sun.  I poured water over my helmet and it hit my back hot.

Fathers Day

The Kid had decided that he wanted to do the clay route I had done on Saturday today.  Fortunately Dr. S Works wanted to ride MTB so we met at the BMX track at Tom Brown at 9 am.  The day was full summer in Fla.  Hazy and muggy.  Still the trail was in pretty good shape considering the recent rain.  The Kid had ridden there Saturday (do you see a pattern here?) and had had to hold onto a small tree on the Alford loop to keep from getting blown off the path.  He came home with red welts on this legs from the hail.  With his navigating skills I was surprised he didn't have to call for EVAC on the clay ride Sunday but he managed to find his way back.

Being the nice riding companion I am I wore Dr. S Works down then attacked on the last climb heading back to the truck.  I heard him utter "I don't care" as I went around.  He had been complaining of being dehydrated from yard work the day before.  He should have known better.

Anyhoo, I grilled hot dogs for dinner that night.  The Lovely wife made baked beans.  We don't eat hot dogs very often but man they were good!

The weekends go by too fast.

Just remember, nobody reads blogs anymore. :)

Riding and Hoping (Hoping I Could Keep on Riding)

I'll admit I did commit to some kind of a vague ride plan before the Ride For Hope 100 mile road bike ride.  I might have said we would try and stay with the lead group as far as the first climb (Fire Tower) and then sit up.  I might even have promised to wait if someone in our group got dropped.  It's all so fuzzy now.

The Week Before: AKA, "The Plan"

Fighting Irish (Irish from now on) had formulated the original plan since he had done a 100 mile road bike ride before and this was to be my maiden voyage.  Dr. S Works had signed on ("for as long as I can ride"), Wrecking Ball had originally been in but quickly backed out.  The Kid was always in, just not sure if he wanted to ride with old guys all day (especially his dad).  He has found some roadie fitness lately, and that, along with riding some of the group rides around town, had him thinking it might no be so cool being my domestic for the day.

I had looked over the route map and had an idea of where were going.  The course was going to be marked with yellow arrows that had 100 spray painted next to them.  There were going to be hundreds of riders out there.  Irish had assured me we could hang with the lead group at least until Firetower.  I had two bottles plus drink mix and food.  There were plenty of sag stops and I was assured we would stop at at least enough of them to keep our hydration needs met.  It all sounded pretty simple.  At least that was "the plan".

4:30 On A Saturday Morning

"Son, are you up?"  

"No, I was waiting for you to get me up."

"Didn't you set your alarm?"

"Yea, but I turned it off."

"We have got to roll by 5:45 to make the 6:30 start."

"Ok."

We're get in the truck and rolling by 5:20.

"Dad did you bring me a recovery drink?"

"No, you were supposed to pack your own stuff."

"But you had to get yours, why didn't you just grab me one?"

"Sigh, you can have mine."

"Thanks."

6:15 am

We arrived at the start and managed to find Irish and Dr. S Works.  The Kid pees twice before we roll to the line (this will be important later).

We roll out with the lead group albeit in the back portion.  The pace was good, the group felt safe, The Kid was in front of me, Irish was up ahead, and Dr. S Works was along side.  All seemed to be going as planned (if we had "a plan"). 

Ladies In Hoop Skirts, Dancing

"I've got to pee BAD." says The Kid at about 20 miles out.  

Mind you we were still cruising in the draft of the lead group at this time, having not yet reached Firetower Hill.  Let me take a minute to explain.  If you haven't ridden road bikes, drafting the rider in front of you takes at least 35% less effort than being by yourself.  You will do almost anything to stay in "the draft".

That's when I looked up and saw the ladies, dancing and twirling, spinning hula hoops, and ringing cow bells.  There must have been 15 of them.  I wasn't sure this was a sag stop.

"I don't know if that's a sag, it could be some kind of church group." I said.

"I don't care" said The Kid, "I've GOT to go NOW!" so he peels off.  I do not.  See, him having to stop for a pee wasn't in "the plan".  It was to be the last time I would see him until the finish.

The Ride

Dr. S Works was the next to go, I don't know exactly where we dropped him.  Then we hit Firetower Hill.  Irish was still in front of me and we managed to hang on up the hill, then after, in fact we stayed with the lead group until after the town of Monticello Fl.  Finally getting dropped (along with quite a few others) just before the second sag.

The rest of the ride is kind of a blur.  We formed a small group, sharing pulls at the front and keeping a good steady pace.  I popped at about 90 miles, running out of water at 92 miles, I struggled to get to the finish.  The group didn't stop at the last two sags ( see, I told you you'd do anything to stay in the draft).  I finished the 102 miles feeling like I was going to puke. Irish even sprinted the last couple of miles.  I kinda hated him for that.

Roadie fitness is a whole different animal and I'm impressed with the abilities of those who did that ride and could smile afterwards. 

Back At The Truck

I'd been back about 45 minutes when The Kid rolls in.  The exchange went something like this:

Him; "Just start the truck."

Me: "Are you ok?"

Him, with a large dose of sarcasm: "Yea, I just rode 109 miles by myself in 95 degree heat."

He gets loaded up and we're in the truck headed out the gate.

Him: "Didn't we have a plan?"  "Weren't you supposed to sit up after Firetower?"

Me, trying not to laugh: "I don't remember that, I do remember you were supposed to pull me all day."

About this time I couldn't keep the grin off my face.  He started to grin also.

"How did you get 109 miles?" I asked.

"I don't know" he said.  " When I found the port a potty there was someone in it, so I just went behind it.  When I got back on the road I could still see the cop car in the back of the group so I pinned it, but I never saw another person till I ran up on Dr. S Works about 10 miles from the finish.  He told me he had 93 miles in so far and had burned 6000 calories." (he really only rode 75 miles, I don't know if he was screwing with The Kid or just blown up).  "He pulled me for 8 miles, it felt so good to be out of the wind.  I kept thinking on the way in, dad better not drink that recovery drink."

I hadn't, and we started laughing.  Turns out he made two wrong turns, riding roads that were not even used during the event, so no wonder he never saw anybody else.  Of course he didn't take his phone since he was sooooo sure he wasn't going to get dropped.  As I tell him all the time "If you're gonna be dumb you better be tough."

My First Hunny

Was it fun?  In a perverse sort of way it was.  I assume I just got overheated and dehydrated at the end.  I could have used one more sag stop but didn't want to lose the group.  It took 20 minutes and a Mountain Dew before I felt human again.  I'm just dumb enough to one of these again.

Uncomfortable Change

My local gym in Beautiful Downtown Havana suddenly closed last Sunday.  I'd been a loyal customer for 11 years and was comfortable there.  I had my time and my little old man routines.  I had been there longer than anybody else and kinda had my turf staked out.  I enjoyed riding my bike to get there on Monday and Wednesday afternoon, plus the easy roll home was relaxing.  But stuff happens ya know?

So now I'm at the YMCA across from the Winn Dixie on north Monroe.  And I'm suddenly the newb.

The patrons do things differently here.  They don't remove their weights from the machines or barbells.  But they do wipe everything off after they're done.  There seems to be a bit more posing and flexing from the body builder crowd, and, except for me, it's not a particularly pretty bunch.

Anyhoo, it's something older dudes need to do, so I guess I'm here until something else opens up. Maybe I'll take a Yoga class.

Roadie

That's me in the background.  I have to photo bomb.

I've been hitting the Joe's road ride in Tallahassee these past couple of Thursday evenings.  Riding through the neighborhoods of Killearn at 6 pm is a little sketchy but over all I've grown to enjoy it.  I seem to have a mental block when it comes to all these roadie tactics so I always find myself in the wrong spot on the sprint.  Ape Bike will say "now why did you do----------?" and I just have to look at him with a vacant stare.  I don't know how something that should be so easy is so hard to figure out. Then again, maybe they're just messing with me.  Always a possibility with this group.

Saturday and Another Road Ride

The Kid wanted to do Saturday Morning Chaires and the rest of the crew was non committal as far as ride plans go, so I cajoled Dr. S Works into doing the Premier road ride from HG with me.  It was billed as a steady pace ride with mostly older riders.  Once again, either Roger was messing with me, or I must have missed something.

The roll out was smooth but as soon as we hit the open road the pace picked up, along with lots of orders being hollered.  We were supposed to go 70 miles but I knew I couldn't keep that kind of pace for long.  Fortunately the train stopped at the first store we came to.  Most of the "older" riders then took a shorter route back, along with Dr. S Works who was feeling sick and had to call for EVAC.  We left the store a much smaller group.

How long to pull?  When does the group go harder?  Who will just sit in?  Do we wait when people get dropped?  How about a double pace line?  Do we even want to do a pace line at all?  I'm so confused.

I hope I didn't insult anybody.  It was a good workout.  I plan to do it again.

Ride For Hope

It's this coming Saturday.  I had tried to get a group together to make the 100 miles pleasant but it's not looking good.  I'll let you know how it goes.

I Just Can't Help Myself

A beautiful spring day outside Ellijay

I just had to start this up again.  The urge to write something down, even if nobody but me reads it, was too strong to ignore.  I found myself composing blog material as things happened and realized I needed this to keep my own stuff straight.

So, anyhoo, I'm baaaack!

One big tree

Road Racing, Bicycle Style

The Kid on the line for the crit in Quincy Fl.

I'm just going to skip all the other cool things I've gotten to do over the past months that we've been apart. Like Mountain Bike Marathon Nationals, Dirty Pecan Clay Ride, and other assorted cycling adventures.

Dr. S Works and I contemplating 60 miles in the woods

The Kid is home from UF for the summer so we've been able to ride together quite a bit, whether he likes it or not.  He did the crit in Quincy Fl. this past weekend while a group of us rode over and watched.

The Kid heading into a Quincy corner

I had decided to try my hand at road racing on Sunday.  That crit business scares me.

Me in the orange helmet. No that's not the front of the pack.

Turns out road racing isn't my strong suit.  All the advice I got was "try to stay with the lead group", and "keep your nose out of the wind".  With about 1k to finish the first of 3 laps I failed at both.

It was kinda hot, oh, and windy also.  Making the next 33 miles somewhat unpleasant.  All by myself, long straight roads, and some fairly good hills.  I was going so slow on the climbs the horse flies could catch me.  Adding insult to whole affair every once in a while a small group would roll by me an holler "get on".  I'd call on the legs to go, but nothing happened.  I imagined they were like Scotty on Star Trek, "I'm givvin ya all they've got captain" (say it with an Irish brogue).  Yes, I had very much blown up.

I have been replaying what I might have done different.  I was in heart rate zone 5.7 when the pack started to drop me.  I don't have much more in me than that, and I certainly can't stay in that neighborhood very long.  Should I have backed off earlier?  Found a secondary group to stay with?  Who knows.  Unlike MTB racing road very much involves other riders to make it fun.  Off road you spend a lot of time by yourself but the ride is still engaging, not just grinding pedal strokes.

On the positive side I finished 18/21 so I wasn't last.  And it was a great workout.  

As I sat under the pop up in the middle of the pasture after the race.   I reflected on how many hot summer days I had swatted gnats and hoped for a breeze to blow after racing something with two wheels.  Enduros, hare scrambles, motocross, and now bicycles.  Big Jim had provided me with an ice cold brew and I got all melancholy remembering.  Hey, that's what old guys do.  I got to race bikes with my son, I didn't crash, and at 59 I'm still trying something new on two wheels. 

Hello, Yes, it's Been Awhile

Lets see, since we last spent quality time together much has happened.  I have so much to say, just so very little you really want to hear.

I'll by pass Thanksgiving and Christmas and start with New Years.

I need to by pass those holidays because it reminds me that I let myself off the leash as far as eating goes (and drinking).  You just can't do that once you pass a certain age.  But you can gain 4 pounds.

Anyhoo I enjoyed it I'm ashamed to say. Eating and drinking all you want has a certain freedom to it. Know what I mean?

Then I Moto

So a heavy but happy me went to the Tallahassee Trail Riders Hangover Hare Scramble on January 1, 2015, and got to ride some moto.  The track was on private property and open by invitation only.  If I had a place like that to ride I would have never sold my dirt bikes.  Hamp let me borrow his KTM 350 SX.  I'll admit to being more than a little nervous but once I got moving it all came back.  I was having such a blast they had to flag me off the track.  To be able to lean the bike into a soft berm, crank open the throttle, and feel it surge forward is such a rush.  No big jumps, and I took it easy in the rutted sections, but I felt like I could ride for hours.  Funny how that kind of thing can make you forget everything except what's happening at that exact moment.

Almost 5 Hours

That's how long it took us to finish the San Felasco mountain bike tour.  15 minutes longer than last year, but I have a good excuse.  Let me start by saying that I enjoyed the ride very much this year.  It seemed like we covered more single track (some of it twice).

But alas, when we were within 5 miles of the finish, The Kid, Andy, and I, while moving along at a moderate pace, came to a patch of pine straw on a two track road corner.  Andy went through fine, I had no problem, but The Kid, well, he lost the front end.  This caused him to smash his family jewels into his carbon fiber top tube.  As you can imagine much screaming and rolling around ensued.  It took him quite a while to shake it off (no pun intended) before we could roll in.  And we did so very gingerly.

Everything turned out ok.  I am truly fortunate to get to ride bikes with my college age son.

Gorilla

Let me start by saying I don't like to ride my bike with a lot of people around me.  Especially people I don't know.  So why do I participate in this ride every year?  As Big Worm reminded me when I told him I was going to forgo the mass start at city hall "If you don't roll out with the crowd it's just another group ride".   Yea.

I guess I should give a brief description of what the Gorilla is.  It's a social ride put out on social media that starts at the Tallahassee City Hall and winds it's way through the urban streets and trails.   There is always some confusion as to the direction it goes when it hits the single track, plus there's different groups doing their own thing (me being one of them).  Add in 150 riders of all different skill levels and you can see my point right?

I had made (or thought I had) arrangements to meet the lead group in a parking lot along the route. The Kid and I rolled around in circles for 30 minutes until Big Worm called and said they had already changed the route and to meet him on the trail.  Off we went.

Once on single track we encountered riders going the wrong way (could have been us?), a loooong line of people walking a small climb, and crowds of people jockeying for position.  I'm sorry, I just don't have the patience for some of this foolishness.  As soon as we got to an open section, a group of riders I didn't know would form around me.  Lots of T-shirts and back packs, all cutting in front of me, then stopping.  Did I have a sign on me somewhere that said "I want to race you"?

Wait!  I just had an epiphany!  I was pigeon holing certain riders by what they were wearing.  What if, they were treating me the way they were because I look a little older than they do?  "This old guy can't be very fast, I better get in front of him before we get to _______."  Nah, they were doing it to The Kid too, and he sure doesn't look old.  They wouldn't pass and then ride on, they would pass and then settle in front or beside me.  It was like they didn't know where to go, just that they had to be in front or beside ME!

Whats the bid deal you say?  What's a little bumping and wheel overlap?  Do you know how much fitness you loose if you have to take a week off the bike due to an injury?  Now multiply that for every decade you are over 40.

Nope, the risk is too high.  Too many people who never race their bikes with the idea it's a race.  In the end it all worked out though.  Three of us rode the last 10 miles almost by ourselves.  So yea, it was just like a regular group ride.

Oh, and I think the word you're looking for is curmudgeon.

www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/curmudgeon

Merriam‑Webster

a person (especially an old man) who is easily annoyed or angered and who often complains