Dover Wednesday Evening TT, or "You Want The Race of Truth? You Can't Handle The Race of Truth!"

The first wednesday of every one of the moderately tolerable months is the Dover Wednesday Evening Bicycle Time Trial. I've been doing this thing for a few years now, it's a sort of fitness check for me and a great mid-week workout. I prefer this course to the uber-popular Charlie Baker Concord TT. Think Nascar Vs. Formula One only with Charlie Baker you just have to turn right not left. Screaming through the rollers on Farm Rd. at 40mph is always a blast. It's free and the guys that put it on keep accurate results dating back to 1996, complete with temperature, wind activity, and your average speed, that's a pretty good deal.

I posted my second best time, hopefully as the season progresses I'll be able to knock myself off the podium a couple times. I don't do Aero-anything, it's not about setting the absolute best time, it's about learning to ride the bike I ride the most faster and getting faster on the mountain bike. I encourage anyone to come check this thing out , it's all about the fun and the suffering.

Lord I'm Blistered Oh, Yeah

First race of the season yesterday. Root 66 tried to trip me up by having an XC event on saturday, they never have the XC event on saturday! It's the middle of what we call "Super Sale" at the shop and I was pretty sure my request for Super Sale Saturday off with four days notice would be seen as an attempt at comedy. It wasn't, I got it off, so thanks to my Sponsor/Employer (IBC) for that. This is why I work at a bike shop and it's why I work at the shop I do.

The forecast was for 48° and rain, I packed for a miserable race and post race hypothermia.
We (Greg, Colin,Linnea, and myself) got to Middlebury, CT to find blue skies, 75°, and this weird yellow thing above us which burned our skin and made water come out of our pores. I'll have to look into what that thing is, I think it has something to do with science. The funny thing was we were all whining about how warm and nice it was. Folks had packed knickers, heavy gloves, undershirts, wool socks and hats, and embrocation, but not water bottles and sunscreen. It's like Jay-Z said, quoting Little Orphan Annie "It's a hard knock life for us". That song was almost as good as the one where Tupac sampled Bruce Hornsby...that guy is one big, dead, genius.

Didn't preride, just hit the road and spun a bit, got down to the start line with time to spare for a change. Lined up next to John Foley and Andrew Freye, chatted for a minute, and we were off. I don't know what I was thinking , maybe it was the gears, but I got up on second wheel going into the hole shot, following John into the woods. I decided my best bet was to just keep it in the big ring. I'm smart. I didn't start suffering a maximum until we hit the first substantial climb. I went deeply anaerobic, I haven't been training that hard yet and going anearobic and then staying there for as long as I did the first lap was not brilliant on my part. I think John and I lead for a few minutes, then guys started blowing by like I was riding a bicycle Rickshaw with two fat, red-faced German Tourists in it.


Damage control. So I stopped trying to spin up the climbs like all these crazy geared guys do and put the chain on the big ring and rode like a Skip Brown, or a weaker shadow of a Skip Brown, but I was in the big ring, mashing away and I seemed to be recovering and moving a little faster. At one point I passed by a cheering Kerry Combs and shouted "Gears suck!", and I meant it, I wasn't really into the whole gear thing. can't wait to get my new Fisher Rig SS. It's basically the same bike as the Paragon, which was what I was riding but without all the klanky, squeaky, jamming, clicking, annoying bits.

Long story shorter than usual...I finished, caught Foley, didn't catch anyone else, felt not too crappy in the end, got 6th out of 10 finishers. Definitely have some work to do if I'm going to try to hang with the big boys all season, but I think I'll be alright.
New IBC kids Colin (4th Expert 19-29), Linnea (1st Expert 12-34), and George (16th Sport 30-39), all did great, and it was cool having an IBC MTB posse out there. Watch out now!
Gotta go, the live updates from Paris Roubaix are much more interesting than anything I'm writing here.

Oh, the title of the post...Johnny Cash, refers to my hands. You can do all sorts of stuff to prepare yourself for mountain biking but you can't fake gripping the bars. My un-calloused hands are meat right now. Like I said, I've got work to do.

I'm Pretty!

Woo Hoo!

Got out on the trails yesterday, finally. Took the demo Paragon out, it's not my bike, but it'll do. A few factors came together to make it one special ride. First off it was nicest day we've had yet this year, by far. Secondly the bike was rocking, the new geometry is a huge improvement over last year's Fishers (and I liked last year's Fishers...what's better than pizza? More pizza!).
Thirdly and lastly, I found new (to me) trails which are sweet, real nice singletrack which begin just five minutes from my house. It used to take me a whole seven minutes to get to the trailhead, now I have two more minutes of dirt time. Finding these trails was like that dream
(I think everyone has this dream, this one and the one about missing the last step and getting that "I'm falling through space feeling") where you notice a door in your house you never knew was there and it opens into a huge room or another world or something entirely crazy. I couldn't believe I'd never realized these trails were there. Now if I could just bottle that amazing feeling of discovery, that giddiness...I could become a millionaire and go ride my bike full time.



The bike feels like a whip, you forget you're on a 29er. The front end snaps up over logs, it handles tight, twisty, turny stuff way better then it's ancestors. As is the bike weighs 26 Lbs, but with a couple upgrades it could be a sick race machine. It don't look too bad neither.

The detractors of the 29 thing talk about slow acceleration due to the increased rotational weight of the larger wheel. That argument only holds water if you're going slow. Throw the chain onto the big ring, get on top of that gear and nothing is going to slow you down enough to make you take notice of the weight of larger wheel. Rail into a corner at speed, let it all hang out and you'll realize the benefits of the larger contact patch damn quick. Woo-Hoo!

You ready for this? I'm going to be racing this bike (starting tomorrow) at the next couple Root 66 races. A geared bicycle, what? Not quite sure how I'm going to deal with it. Suppose I'll just have to go out there and have some fun and see what happens, oh darn.

Oooh, SuperflyYou're gonna make your fortune by and by But if you lose, don't ask no questions why The only game you know is "Do or Die"Ah-ha-ha

Totally breaking character here with the multiple posts per day but I had to share this:

http://twentynineinches.com/2008/04/02/superfly-single-speed/

My world has just been turned on it's head. Ever since we got a Fisher Superfly in at the shop I've been doing this dance around it, trying to figure out how I could possibly justify owning it. I would think "yes, I can use a Singleator, run it as a single speed" or "maybe I'll just race gears this year". Neither of those are serious options, using a tensioner is kind of anathema to me and I think switching back to gears at this point would just make me slow again. I had to thank Glenn Cook for buying the only Superfly we had in stock in my size, he removed a great deal of temptation by doing so. In turn I thank Fisher for only producing three of these SS Superflies

and removing this option from my grasp as well. For this season I will happily ride my Rig,

but next year...next year. Is a year up yet? How about now?

The Devil Makes work For Idle Legs

Hi two people reading this blog today. I'm not feeling well, I'm not riding my bike, so I'm thinking about riding my bike, and geeking out about riding my bike. I got on the Google Map Pedometer and mapped my hill route to work.

Hill Route:
http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=1767684

It could easily be made into a loop without much customization. It looks a wee bit confusing with all the back tracking business, I'll try to clarify for you...two people.

- So you start out at my house (not literally for the one of you two who may be slightly on the Autistic spectrum)
- Then you head out west on Boston Ave
- Left on 60/High St.
- Go straight through the first rotary
- Right at second rotary up Mystic
- Right at light onto 3/Mystic
- Veer left onto Hutchinson (Climb #1 about 5min.)
- Left at top down Forest
- Veer Right down Park Ave Extension
- Cross Mass Ave go up Park Ave. (Climb #2 About 3min.)
- Cross Rt. 2, immediate left after overpass down the "Access Road"
at the bottom I hop on the sidewalk on the left side to avoid having to deal with traffic and double back up the access road on the other side of Rt. 2 (Climb #3 about 5-6 Min back to top of water tower)
- Head back over Rt.2, this time heading down to the funky little rotary,
- second right out of rotary onto Prospect,
- then veer right onto Clifton
- Right onto 60 at light at bottom
- Right at light onto Concord (Climb #4 about 4 min.)
- Continue up Concord (Climb #5 1 min. power climb in here)
- Left on Spring/Smith St.
- Right on Trapelo (Climb #6 wee little power climb, maybe 45sec)
- Pass Cambridge Reservoir (Climb #7 2 min. grinder)
- Left on Winter, good spot for recovery here
- Follow Winter back to Reservoir, head down One way street the wrong way,
stay right on shoulder at first then switch to left side so traffic can see you...
not super sketchy really, this is a very quiet road.
- Go right into first office park, all the way to top and back down (Climb #8 about 2 min.)
- Right on Winter, Pass second office park driveway
- Right up third Office Park Driveway, stay right at stop sign, go to top and back down
(Climb #9 About 2min.)
(Here you can also just take a right on Second Ave. and go up Bear Hill Rd.)
- Right on Winter, cross 95 onto Totten Pond
- Right into Prospect Hill Park, up access road (Climb #10 this is the big boy 5-7 min. with 17% grades thrown in)

you can either go to the top or continue on over to the neighborhood on the other side.
If you're not commuting to IBC Newton I would just turn around and maybe hit the Bentley College Hill on the way home and call it a day.

While I was at it I mapped this gem.
(Almost) Non-Total-Shite Commute:
http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=1767706
It's a relatively not-crappy way to get from Somerville to Newton.
The only slightly tricky part is finding the dead end neighborhood to cut through off of 20,
it's probably easier to figure out in reverse. Oh, and that left off 60/Pleasant in Belmont...that's onto a footbridge over the train tracks, totally avoids the gnarliness of Belmont center.

Hope you find that helpful...two people.

-t

Doper

"Coming down with a stomach virus" isn't just a euphemism for being doped to gills and needing an out before testing...sometimes. I'm pretty sure that The WADA wasn't testing down at The EFTA King of Burlingame Time Trial in Rhode Island yesterday but I decided to play it safe anyway. The kid at the register down at the Starbucks near my work has decided that I don't get charged for extra shots in my coffee, then the guy manning (guying?) the Espresso machine invariably offers an additional shot "on the house". Because of this I am nearly positive that my caffeine levels are way off the charts, I would definitely fail doping controls. That's why I feigned a tummy ache saturday night to get out of racing sunday. It had nothing to do with riding myself into the ground last week, commuting in the rain, and not sleeping, amazing that a virus could infiltrate the veritable fortress of my body, amazing.
Hopbrook is next sunday, going to try to pull myself together for that. In the meantime read this report by new IBC Expert Mt. Biker Colin Reuter on this past weekend's race, sounds like he had a good ride.

Ready to Get Crazy? Let's Have Some Fun Today

- Bob Ross

Met up with a bunch of the IBC Master's team sunday for a little beatdown out toward Wachusett. Richard Barnwell knows some great roads with nasty little climbs which are at the moment covered in sand, ice, and snow. Haven't been doing much high cadence, small gear climbing so I was hurting pretty good. It was a beautiful day, so beautiful that when I got home and found that I had been relieved of my afternoon obligations that I got back on the bike and hit it for a couple more hours. I spent the last forty minutes bonked out, draped over my bars like a jellyfish on a pier, churning into a cold headwind, dreaming of the leftover Chinese food in the fridge. That was some mighty good Moo-Shi.


Wedneday was the IF Elite ride out of IBC. So far it's been a civil, friendly ride with the exception of Sam Silver and Adam Branfman's sprints. Those kids are in a different league. Someday my claim to fame will be (maybe it already is) that I beat Adam Branfman in a sprint. Sure it was a slightly uphill sprint...and it was in our 39 X 23's (Jon Bruno's idea, brutal task master) but I won. All I won was the privilege of being the first guy to spin 210 RPM's to the top where I gasped "That was frickin' horrible!".

We'll be doing that ride every wednesday night out of IBC Newton at 6PM, so come on by if you're looking to ride with some of the fastest most experienced road racers around...and me.

Let's Move to The Country

Above: Remnants of a weird-ass lost civilization.

Got out for an actual non-commute related road ride this past sunday on an actual non-single speed type bike...my new De Rosa "UD". Geared road, I say Road bikes are faster than non-geared road bikes. No one can argue that. They also don't beat down your "Bonchial Region" like riding a Zebra across the Serengeti bareback. Which a fixed gear ridden on New England roads does. It's a 900 gram frame but it's built up with borrowed parts and things I found lying around my basement. I used a washing machine belt instead of a chain, it's awesome. It weighs about 18Lbs. Oh, but that vintage medley of Ultegra 9 speed and Shimano 600 is so sweet. I'm a "9 Speeder".

Above: The UD in Dover Center.
A guy drove by in a BMW SUV and yelled "Hey Faggot, get some Record Ten Speed on that thing!".

Above: So much beauty in rust.

Knuckleheads

Just received the email below from Mark Dionne, one of the organizers of the great Wednesday night Dover Time Trial series . This is a road that I frequent as do many of my teammates. Motorists harassing and threatening recreational cyclists without provocation is unacceptable.
Yes I have regular incidents involving crackhead drivers, but I am out commuting through congested areas at rush hour every day, one might say I'm asking for it. People out spinning around Dover are not asking for it, they should be able to have a peaceful, incident free ride. It will be a fine day when the law recognizes any threatening behavior by a driver as assault with a deadly weapon on par with brandishing a gun. I'd use a baseball bat analogy but a bat comes up far short of a two ton hunk of steel traveling at forty miles per hour when it comes to lethality.

This also relates to Andy's recent post about a misguided (cough-Understatement-cough!) motorist.

Without further digression, here's Mark's email:

Last June I had an incident with a problem driver on Pine Street in Dover, which is on the Saturday Fitness loop. At the time, I reported it to the Dover Police and told a few people. I just learned of an almost identical incident that happened yesterday with the same car, and I think it's worth warning people about this guy.

Here's my incident:

I was traveling down Pine Street in Dover, heading toward Centre Street on my bicycle. I was going down the hill in the vicinity of Forest St., about 1/4 mile from Centre St. Since I was going down a hill, I was traveling about 25 MPH.

A late model red Jeep (Mass plate "T----P") suddenly pulled in front of me from a driveway on the left, forcing me to brake hard to avoid hitting the vehicle. I hollered out "Hey" loudly to warn the driver, a middle aged man. I saw the driver look in the rear-view mirror, and then he hit his brakes hard, apparently to cause me to collide with the back of his Jeep. I avoided a collision by steering to the left of the Jeep.

From beside the Jeep, I said to the driver "Are you trying to kill me?". The driver responded, "Yes, I'm tired of you homos. You'd better keep off this street." The driver then proceeded very slowly, as if to provoke me to pass him, but I felt threatened by his behavior and I stayed away from him. As far as I know, I never saw this person before that day. I have seen the Jeep in the same driveway many times since then. There is no number on the mailbox.

Yesterday this same person tried to hit a rider with his car in the same vicinity, and the rider is reporting him to the Registry. I am also contacting the Registry. Has anyone else encountered this guy?

Dig Like A Naked Mole Rat

Above photos:
Sunset on Quinobeguin Road - I Hate March, luckily I got to drive on this day - Dork - Hemlock Gorge.

Weird thoughts go through my brain when I'm riding sometimes. Been working on seated climbing. Most Bicycling Magazine get fit quick articles will tell you to to "pedal from the hips".
In my vernacular this has become "You can do it put your back in to it - I can do it put your ass into it", these are Ice Cube Lyrics, I find them immensely helpful. "Pedal from the hips" does not accurately describe how to engage the muscle group you are trying to engage on a low cadence climbing effort. You want to pedal from the "gluteus Maximus", i.e. your "ass". Ice Cube is a genius.


Above Photos:
Bear Hill Road Waltham

Another thing I say to myself when I'm climbing or really anytime I'm trying to maximize my pedal stroke efficiency is "Dig like a Naked Mole Rat".

Naked Mole Rats wallow on the floors of their communal bathrooms as a way of imbuing themselves with a scent unique to their colony, but that's not important right now. What is important is that Naked Mole Rats can also burrow through concrete...bad ass. I'm just trying to burrow my way up the water tower hill next to Rt. 2 in Arlington. Sure, you can "throw your knee over the bar", "scrape mud (or poo) off your shoe"...whatever works for you. I like visualizing my feet clawing into the dirt/asphalt, scooping down with force and fluidly coming up and around (sometimes I think about a swimmers stroke here as well) to do it again. I also think about "keeping it all positive" as in all positive engagement throughout the pedal stroke.


Above Photos:
Late sunday afternoon, coming back through Concord

While I'm sharing all these incredibly useful and sane bits of information I might as well share my new diet. Not so much diet as feeding schedule. It developed from doing them there 100 milers. I realized that I ate more during a work day than I did during an eight or nine hour bike race, that's just silly. I hate silliness.


So now I eat in small increments throughout the day, having a snack every couple hours, with the largest single meal being a PB & J, sometimes eaten in sections. I commute by bike both ways to work and have a slightly physically demanding job and this "program" has made me more productive and energetic in general. I do drink way more coffee than I would during a 100 miler but as David Letterman once said "if it weren't for the coffee, I'd have no identifiable personality whatsoever".

What I am Babbling About...Today

Chocolate milk saved my life. I read a Velonews article a couple years back it wasn't
This Velonews Article but the one I read is mentioned in the linked article. It talks about a study where they basically found that Chocolate milk is as good or better than most recovery drinks on the market. That and as an added bonus you don't gag when you try to drink it.
This is the type of thing you read and then immediately close the subject for debate. I don't care if studies have come out since debunking the whole thing, chocolate milk works for me and that's all I need to know, la, la, la, I'm not listening, the end.
My philosophy is to avoid high-tech sports foods in general until it is absolutely necessary to consume them...that would be raceday. The rest of the time I say stick to peanut butter filled chocolate covered pretzels, Peanut butter and jelly, bananas, cookies, potato chips...anything but some futuristic glop that looks and tastes like something a bird regurgitated in brick form. Now I'm just waiting for the study that proves that pizza, beer, and coffee are essential elements in an athlete's diet. Carmichael advocates the "Caveman Diet". I'm waiting for the "My Dad Diet".

The First Days of Dogtown

So ya, I was just riding through Dogtown up in Gloucester sunday and this rock jumped out in front of me and I was all like "what the F- rock? I am gonna drag you out of the ground and beat you, AAAH!". Oh wait I was mountain biking and nothing that happened spurred anything like commuter rage. It was 100% pure fun with no badness whatsoever...that's mountain biking for ya.

The above photo...Brad going all "Now way Hans Rey". Andy flirting with disaster. Jeff expressing the overwhelming sentiment of the day.

Let them eat rocks/Cold Feet/Air Jeff

Cliche shot/Hike-a-bike/Island Hopping

It was the first MTB ride of the season for me. Borrowed Andy's Igleheart 29 SS.

Can't believe Andy let me borrow his baby, but it was much appreciated, such a nice ride.
This ride made me come to the re-realization that I really like mountain biking. It makes me as happy as a four year old hopped up on pixie sticks and Dr. Pepper doing somersaults in a bouncy castle.

Bouncy Bouncy
Oh such a good time
Bouncy Bouncy
Shoes all in a line
Bouncy Bouncy
Everybody
somersault,
somersault

-The Mighty Boosh "Bouncy Bouncy"
(thanks Todd)

A Cyclingnews article I read recently got me to thinking about training to race single speed mountain bikes exclusively. It had this to say (among other things):

Critics dismiss the application of a fixed-gear trainer to improvement of road bike technique as analogous to practicing on an ostrich as preparation for riding a racehorse. Ideological opponents of the fixie advocate a purist approach. To get good at riding a road bike, ride it.

I don't necessarily agree with the above statement but there may be something to it. Why would I ride a racehorse in preparation for riding an ostrich (or a Magical Unicorn as the case may be)? At one point I asked a highly regarded Cycling coach about "special needs" of single speeders. He told me that he'd put a SSer on basically the same program as any other mountain biker, the only alteration would be to the cadence and force workouts were done at.
Of course I have only had the option of riding my Fixed Gear (not to be confused with sweet fixie) for months now. Maybe I am just trying to kid myself that I am doing the right thing by spinning and grinding my way around the suburbs of Boston day after day. I won't know the answer until I hit the first couple races. The joke will either be on me or the kids sitting indoors, chasing their tails, watching their power meters.
After a month or so of riding the same gear I decided to mix it up, got myself a Surly "Dingle Cog". It's a 17/19t. This way I can do my force and muscular endurance stuff in the 44 X 17t then throw it up on the 19t and either recover on a short ride or go do hills and get a good aerobic workout. Spinning the 44 X 19 at 22 mph (120 RPMs) will make you suck some wind for sure as well.
The Ultrafit article I linked to a while back illustrated the huge discrepancy in power output between geared on non-geared riders at various cadences. So why shouldn't you try to emulate the requirements of riding an SS MTB as much as possible in training? Sure you can try to fake it...do big gear hill climbs on your road bike, then try to force yourself to spin at close to 120 RPM's for long durations, but y'know what? You're not really gonna do it, at least not to the extreme riding a fixed gear will force you to.
In other news, I signed up for this:
http://www.efta.com/content/view/58/49/
Haven't raced my bike that early since I did Sea Otter. Yikes.

The Bit The Bridle and The Thrashing Mane

Been working on my pack riding skills a lot. Yup, everyday I ride to work with a twelve plus pound pack. I figure it's like having a pretty good beer gut going, only with the advantage of being able to drop the extra weight more quickly. It feels like the gravitational pull of the earth just let up slightly when you do. Someone should do a study. Maybe it's like what adventure racers call "Brick Work". The term for what I do wouldn't be nearly so catchy. It would have to be called "Peanut butter and Jelly, Apple, Yogurt, banana, breakfast burritos, pants, shirt, drawers, and other assorted crap...um, work".

In the above photo the faceplate on my stem appears with the logo oriented correctly although the photo is upside down. The only reason I ever flipped my faceplates was to annoy anal retentive roadie types who spend more time looking at their bikes than riding them. I didn't realize it actually served a purpose...when taking upside down photos. Useful...like nipples on men.

I've finally figured out an awesome (relative term) route to work, and sometimes I get to see things like this:

Rode with other folks for the first time in a long time today. IBCer Julie, her boyfriend John, and C Todd. We even picked up a friend along the way, a guy named Jim from Quad Cycles. He was a pleasant guy who insisted on buying me a coffee at True Grinds after the ride. Aces in my book.


After the ride and the post ride coffee M and I hit Soundbites. If I didn't ride bikes I would be a sumo wrestler in no time fat, uh I mean flat.

Week "Off" Wrap up

Went for one last grind before heading off to Vermont for some non-bike related fun (and torture). Struck out for Wayland, MA, where I hit a couple of my favorite roads.
Water Row is one of them, on many days the water creeps up to road level, on this day the ice took on that role. The other is Sherman's Bridge, a real good stretch to get the legs spinning.

The long shadows of winter.

Then it was off to Waitsfield, VT to visit Jeff and Jen Whittingham and the various cute creatures which inhabit their abode. Food was eaten, drinks were imbibed, and I made a rickety return to snowboarding after a 12 year sabbatical. I learned that my bones are no longer made of rubber and I don't bounce when I fall like I once did. But now I have contracted the bug once again and thoughts have wandered off to how I can spend more time sliding sideways on crystallized water next year. Greg "The Leg" has the right idea. He spends as much time skiing in the winter as he does riding in the summer. It shows, the guy rips.


After exhausting the hospitality and sweet hook ups of the Whittinghams we made our way to the Warren General store, the place that was responsible for developing a certain doughy eight year old's predilection for Boursin cheese. Boursin was had, this time around accompanied by smoked salmon and capers. Wow.


The next day it was XC skiing in the North East Kingdom. The icy conditions challenged our rookie skills. No chance you'll see this spastic freak show on two boards at the Weston ski track trying to chase down Colin and Alex any time soon.


The Village Inn up in East Burke is the spot...cheap, comfortable, and unparalleled breakfasts created by George the moose hunting, bacon smoking half of the husband and wife team that run the place. Can't wait to spend a night there during Mt. Bike season. Skipped another day of boarding at Cannon on the way back friday. A storm was coming in and even with the head start we got nailed. After watching countless cars lose it and slide off the road we opted to get off somewhere near Dracut and go overland the last forty miles home. Driving off the road on purpose might have been a preferable option.

Don't worry, I'm back on the bike and I'll have harrowing tales of commuter rage and more photos of weird crap up soon enough.

A Little Rain Never Hurt No One

Tom Waits said that...apparently he never rode a bike in New England in February. Worst case scenario weather, sub-forty degree rain on top of massive snow melt. Rode through Watertown which was aptly named today. The gutters ran deep, hiding my friends the crevasse sized pot holes, who wanted to swallow me whole, bike, pack, and all. Spent all day trying to finagle a ride home, had many generous offers but ultimately opted to dive back in like Jacques Cousteau and pedal back to Somerville.

Drying area. Only warm, dry article of clothing makes a stupid hat. There will be flood.

Magnetic razor holder. Cables. Proxy Pedal.

Huge warehouse rooms full of enormous cable ends and bolts for the bikes of giants.

Junk. Magnet Collection. Junk.

Mondays are Not Really Rest Days

but I don't ride my bike. Watching two kids all day is way harder than anything else I do in my life. You can't drop out, there are no time outs. No matter how tired you might be, you can't show it or they will be on you like a pack of Hyenas. They don't except excuses and they take no prisoners. You have to be on your game at all times or somebody's going to lose an eye, take a header into the wood stove, or eat their brother's face.

Manny Mondays are far from rest days, but they are the best days.

I'm a Street Riding Chihuahua With a Heart Full of Nougat

Procrastinated through much of the 40° rainy morning. Doing the ride the trainer (I haven't been on it in well over a year) or face the day dance. Three cups of coffee and a couple hours later I made my first attempt at a ride. Got less than ten minutes in when the first rain drops began to fall. My Burley has lost it's water-proofness so I turned back to grab real raingear. Then things went all white squall, snow blowing sideways, total craziness. I watched the swirling madness through the red door, contemplating whether I should really do this or bag it and go to brunch and spend the afternoon watching bad TV.

Alterations were made to my wardrobe selection and I set out again. This time making it fifteen minutes before realizing my core was not getting warm enough. Returning to the house would mean the end of the ride so I scanned the streets for recycling bins or free newspaper dispensers, looking for something to stuff my jersey with. A real estate guide did the trick.
From there on out the skies cleared, I headed up to Concord, Strawberry Hill loop with the addition of Annursnac Rd., a road I'd never noticed until they recently put in a stop sign. It's a super nice climb and a good addition to the loop.

Bad things come in threes. First an Audi buzzed me. I had just been pondering how mountain bikers react to equestrians in the woods. You stop, you walk your bike, you ask if it's OK to pass, is the horse going to freak? Your goal is to not have the horse throw the rider and break their neck. This is about regard for human life. I have no particular fondness for equestrians, but I respect most human and animal life, I don't want to get the rider or the horse hurt. However drivers have no qualms about coming within inches of a cyclist at 50mph.
A little while later, a guy driving a life size Matchbox truck which just screamed "I have little or no penis" slowed down enough to say, apropos of nothing "Get off the road asshole". I can't actually repeat what my reply was. I have reactionary tourette's syndrome, I go way below the belt right off the bat. It had something to do with stating that he had been determined to be mentally disabled before the age of eighteen, and that his height to weight ratio was out of balance. The third incident involved getting cut off at the intersection of Pleasant St. and Mass Ave. All I could muster by then was "You don't do that!". Pretty weak, I was completely knackered by that point.

The goodness comes in spades though. Taking a left turn, using the car in front of you to block traffic, shadowing it off to the right, then seamlessly falling in behind it's draft as it straightens out and riding behind for a few hundred yards. Hitting 35mph on the downhill into Carlisle with a 66in. gear, the RPMs off the charts. The finest moment of the day came after I got caught in another Noreaster type deal outside of Lexington center, about a half hour from home. Thoughts went to holing up in Pete's coffee and calling in an evac from Miriam. Vision was impaired, my window to the world the few millimeters between my the top of my glasses (which I'd pushed down my nose as they had become useless) and the brim of my cycling cap. Just I was about to throw in the towel The Stooges "Search and Destroy" came on the ipod, I went after the snow covered road like Steve Zissou went after the pirates in The Life Aquatic. My cadence and velocity rising, singing "I'm a street-walking cheetah with a heart full of napalm" through my gritted teeth. Then as I spun softly down the clean, white bike path with it's fresh blanket of snow Shearwater's "The Makeover" came on, keeping it nice and mellow for the spin home.

This ride was fueled by chocolate covered peanut butter filled pretzels.

I'll Alert The Media

That's right, real exciting stuff going on here. How much can I possibly whine about bad roads and worse drivers? Maybe I'll reflect on the goodness and light for a moment. Today's commute wasn't as horrible as yesterday's. The few inches of snow on the ground made things more pretty than dangerous and with glasses and a cycling cap the flakes didn't blind me. The fatigue of all fixed gear all the time has set in. I had installed my new 44t White Industries chainring, I didn't have a 17t cog lying about so I went for an 18t over my existing 16t. Shh don't tell all the rookie messengers that grinding around town well behind your gear provides you with no real benefits, other than the fact that you never get your huge gear up to max speed so it's easier to stop your brakeless wonder. Despite the lower (66in.) gear and the fact that I'd adjusted my rear hub bearings which had been seized up for god knows how long I still felt like I was riding around in wet, stinky clothes with a twelve pound pack...oh wait, that's the reality. My ass was dragging.

I gotta say, that new chainring makes the drivetrain look pretty bad-ass. Doesn't feel too shabby either. Threw a Sram PC-1 [ 1/2 X 1/8 chain] ,on which is not normal for me. I usually run all 3/32 stuff, offroad and on. Big legs don't break chains (not like I'd have that problem) overtightening your wheel in the dropouts and bad chainlines break chains (can't hurt to replace it once in a while either). Haven't broken a 3/32 chain since I switched from Shimano to Sram. Magnus Backstedt doesn't use a moped chain so I don't feel I should have to either.

Found some magic on the way home. Hooked up with the bike path in Waltham. It was covered in a couple inches of fresh snow and there wasn't a soul in sight. I followed it to Watertown Square, the only sound the crunch of my tires, once in a while crossing a patch of pavement where the snow had melted off, the feeling was like throwing a medicine ball up a few times then having someone throw you a basketball which comparatively feels light as a feather.

We had another Wild America moment at the shop. A hawk showed up, not the same hawk, but maybe a mature member of the same species. It's probably a Cooper's hawk but we're not sure.

I think I fell asleep three minutes ago, why are you guys still here?

Down and Out in Belmont and Waltham

The quest continues. I have found even more bombed out roads in Waltham, it is simply just not a place to ride a bike. This is unfortunate because it lies between me and my place of work. If I had an hour and a half in the morning to ride I would bee line it for Weston or Lincoln, or one of the other rich suburbs where three people live. Places with really high property taxes which help maintain beautiful roads.

The deluge this morning made for a heart pounding game of "What's in The Puddle?". A Coelacanth? A chest of Spanish Gold Doubloons? Or a giant pot hole, waiting to take me out and send me careening into traffic? Why is it always the latter? Why? Oh, because Waltham sucks that's why. You know what also sucks? The way this guy in a Volvo was driving as I came down Walnut Street in Newton tonight. I was riding up to a red light, he came up next to me and squeezed me to the curb. When I caught up to him at the next light I tapped on his glass and asked "Hey, I'm just curious...are you an asshole or an idiot?". That's kind of a standard of mine. Of course he started shrieking something through the rain streaked glass and flapping his arms wildly about. I couldn't hear a thing with my headphones on.

Listening to the sounds of "13 and God" while absorbing images like the ones bookending this post make all the stress of my silly commute worthwhile. Like the Icelandic Hidden Person run amok Bjork once said "My headphones - They saved my life".

Super Secret Training

Oh yes, it's so freakin' super secret. It entails riding my fixed gear...a lot.
Riding a fixed gear, is good for anyone, but it's particularly beneficial for someone who forgoes gears entirely. I've been rereading Joe Friel's Mountain Biker's Training Bible and assessing my strengths and weaknesses. I've determined that my strength is my ability to spin like a blender on puree mode. My weakness is strength. It might seem weird but I can't push very big gears compared to my single speed brethren. Not like a Skip Brown, Paul Simoes, or Marko and Jesse Lalonde anyway.
To remedy this deficit I have upped my gearing to 70 inches (42 X 16) on the fixed gear (the same gear which Jesse won Chequamegon on...off-road) . Oh that's a wussy little light gear you say? Not when you ride up stuff like the Arlington water tower hill on the way to work, believe me, that hurts enough for Mr. Chicken Legs here. To get the benny's of the fixed gear you must spin more than you mash, I let the terrain not my gear dictate when to grind. I like to be able to spin out pretty good on flat ground without going anaerobic.

Now the secrets out, so you and your gramma can heckle me when you pass me during Root 66 races this season yelling "where's your sweet fixie now douche bag?".

The real secret is in the recovery food...Peanut Butter and Jelly and Chocolate Covered Peanuts and Marshmallows.

I've been experimenting, trying to find the worst possible commuting route to work. Riding the same route day after day has begun to wear on me, change is needed. If I have to ride my bike down North St. in Somerville, past the Mickey Mouse projects one more time, I swear I'm going to jerk the bars into a damn bridge abutment.
I consulted the good old Rubel map, they claim there are "Green Streets" (preferred cycling routes) through much of Waltham. This is a lie. I have not found a single road in that town which is anything more than tolerable on a bike.
The other night I had survived the mentally challenging route I had chosen through Waltham, only to flat out just a few miles from home out in Belmont. It happened as I was blindly rattling down a hill on a dark, pot hole riddled street. You know a death blow when you feel one. I pulled off to the side before my rim started banging asphalt.
The bike does roll faster with it's new Conti Duraskin 700 X 25's, but I can say with certainty that I never once flatted while running the Conti Top Tourer 2000 700 X 32's. I rode them 3,000 miles (most of the way) across the country, messengered for two years on them, and commuted I don't know how many 1000's of miles on them, not one flat. Just a few weeks ago I whacked a pot hole so hard in the rain that I put a hop in my rim...the tire did not go flat. That was all on the same pair of tires, not just that particular model, sounds insane, but is' true.
Fascinating stuff, I know. Christ, it's two months till my first race and I'm already talking about commuting tires. Maybe I should drive my computer into a damn bridge abutment.