Sudden Impact

Today I rode home from work on the first hot day of the year. It's been a very mild spring with lots of rain, so the sudden jump to 94 degrees was shocking.



I rode pretty well for the first 25 miles, but the heat got to me in the last 12. Every hill became more and more difficult. The sweat was pouring off me as my body tried to adapt to the heat.

I rolled up the driveway very tired and glad it was over. The forecast is for lower temperatures later in the week, and I am fine with that.

Later.

Faster

Yesterday I rode home from work again, but this week was a bit different. Last week I finished and told myself, You're old, fat, slow, and nobody likes you.

Last night I rolled up the driveway and had a Stuart moment:

"I'm thin enough, I'm fast enough, and doggone it people like me."

I finished in 3:04, shaving a full 24 minutes off my time from the previous week. I am in no way under the misconception that my fitness has increased that much in one week. As I have mentioned numerous times before, sometimes you just have good legs.

Here are a few pictures:

Next week, weather permitting, my time will likely be closer to 3.5 hours and I can go back to hating myself again.

Later.

First Commute

Yesterday I rode home for the first time this year. It's always one of the harder rides of the year as I make the transition from "winter riding" to spring. I am always a year older, a pound heavier and a little slower than the year before.

I rode at a very moderate pace because I was apprehensive about the distance. Most of my rides lately have been 60 to 90 minutes in duration, and the ride home from work usually takes around 3.5 hours.

There was an overall theme to the ride and it was this: abundance. There was a maddening quantity of insects on the bike trail . . .

a great deal of water flow in the river . . .

more greenery than I have seen in many years . . .

and more debris in the lake than I have ever seen.

The trails were in pretty good shape considering all the rain.

The 37 miles and 2500 feet of climbing took me just shy of 3.5 hours. It was definitely a tough introduction to spring, but the next one should be a little easier.

Later.

Commute

I rode to work yesterday for the first time in two years. I learned some things. First, 38 miles on a mountain bike is a long way. Second, four in the morning is way too early to get up. Lastly, the effects of aging increase at a cruel rate. It just didn't seem that hard a couple years ago.

I rolled down the driveway at about 4:15, lights blazing. I am running 750 lumens on my helmet and 700 on the bars, which is plenty as long as you keep it under 60 miles per hour or so.

I hit the first stretch of dirt in about 30 minutes, dodging the bunnies and hares frantically zig-zagging away from the light-emitting monster crunching though the night. I am not exaggerating when I say I saw at least 50 of them. They were everywhere. It was like a video game.

On the next trail section I got into a groove and only made one small mistake. I was going fast, making great time and having fun.

I hit the Brown's Ravine trail at about the hour mark and it was still dark in the woods. When I emerged only a few miles later the sky was just starting to brighten:

Most of the rest was on the bike trail, and I was OK until about mile 30. At that point I wanted off the bike, and my speed slowed a bit.

I rolled into work with a time of 2:45, about 15 minutes slower than I used to do it. Getting old.

Later.

How the Mighty Have Fallen

Following May, when I rode lots of miles, was the month of June. I did not ride lots of miles in June.

Following June was July. I did not ride lots of miles in July.

In August things were going pretty much the same until I looked in the mirror the other day and my body looked like this:

The scale didn't report much of a difference from a few months ago when I was quite fit, but the distribution of the weight had certainly changed—less up top, less in the legs, more in the middle. Time to get back to work.

Yesterday I rode to work for the first time since May. I parked in Folsom and rode in, which is a 44 mile round trip. I rode hard in the morning, even taking the cross bike in the dirt a few times, and arrived at work feeling OK. After work my legs didn't feel great out of the parking lot, but they loosened up after a while.

Along the way a guy on a road bike passed me. I didn't react to him at all as he slowly pulled away. About a mile later was one of my favorite stretches of trail, along the west shore of Lake Natoma. There is a dirt path to the right of the bike trail, and I really enjoy blasting down it on the cross bike. So I did.

I hit the trail hard and was quickly up to 25 miles per hour. I held it there and powered along, lost in my own little world, pretending I was crushing the pavé in the Paris-Roubaix. When I went past the guy on the road bike, I very politely said, "On your right," just to alert him of my presence.

For whatever reason he didn't seem to like this, glaring at me as I blew by. When I finished the dirt section and popped back onto the bike trail, he was right on my wheel. Game on.

Right after that is a small hill. Even though I was hurting a bit from the effort, I left it in the big ring and hammered up the hill, gapping my new friend. I sat up to take a drink after the hill leveled out, and he attacked me.

I put my water bottle back and chased him down, but it hurt. When the first long climb up to Beal's Point came I was still trying to recover, and he dropped me. I never made it back.

It's been a long time since someone so convincingly and easily crushed me like that. I was bummed.

This morning I am sore and tired. I guess I have missed that. I am definitely looking forward to riding again. I want to ride harder and farther and hurt a bit, which is something that has eluded me for much of the summer. All it took was getting my ass handed to me.

Later.

Early Bird

Today I rolled out the door at the ridiculously early time of 4:30 a.m. This was the earliest I had ever started my commute to work.

If you have even been up at 4:30, you may have noticed that big fiery ball is missing from the sky. It's dark. Really dark. This is especially true in my town where the invention of the streetlight has yet to hit the newspapers. I have a good light, though, and the streets are completely empty at that hour, so who needs streetlights.

That's El Dorado Hills down there where they have electricity and lights.

In previous years I always tried to time it so that I hit the dirt portion of the route as the sun was coming up. However, this strategy always made me a little late for work—a practice frowned upon by management everywhere—so today I left earlier.

 

The first stretch of dirt was the two-mile gravel road through Serrano, which wasn't tough to negotiate as long as I avoided the rabbits and hares that scurried everywhere. It started to rain a bit, but not enough to matter.

 

After that I hit the New York Creek singletrack, which is tight, rocky and rough. My speed dipped considerably here because I am not the greatest night rider. This fact became quite apparent during 24-hour races where my teammates were turning night laps only slightly slower than their day laps while mine were significantly slower. Maybe I didn't eat enough carrots as a kid.

 

The next trail was even rougher, with a number of steep, rocky dropoffs made slick from the increasing rain. I rode cautiously through here, and my speed suffered even more.

About halfway through the Brown's Ravine trail the sky began to lighten, which was welcomed relief. My speed picked up immediately.


Shortly after exiting the last of the dirt, I was on the bike trail. There isn't a whole lot of excitement there, but it continues my car-free route for another 18 miles.

I did see this guy strutting his stuff. The colors would have been much more vivid had the sun been up.



It took me 2:45 to ride the 39 miles. Kind of slow. Next time I would like to shave 15 minutes off that time so I hit the showers closer to 7:00.

Later.

First Commute

Yesterday I rode home from work for the first time this year. I usually don't get the opportunity to make the long ride home until daylight savings hits, but yesterday I was able to leave work early. The first one is always tough mentally. Three-plus hours in the cold isn't always fun.

I took some of the dirt trails on the way. It was a lot muddier than I anticipated since it hadn't rained in nine days. Still fun, though, and better than dealing with cars. Anyway, you can see the route here.

I took a couple of lousy cell phone pics. Folsom Lake is really, really low right now.

The trail through Serrano.

I rode fairly well and finished strong up the last few hills. Today I am a little sore and stiff, but I think that's more from Thursday's kettle bell workout than the ride home.

Later.

Slippage

I rode home from work today for the first time since May. It was hard. I guess my fitness has slipped a bit since Bike Month.

Although I was on my 29er, I didn't do much in the way of dirt. I suspected I would be tired by the end even if I stuck to the roads, and I was right.

This ride was more difficult than the climb I did to the top of Mount Rose a couple weeks ago. Even though I had less elevation gain today, the hills around here are steep. You can check out the GPS output here if you want.

I didn't see a lot worthy of pictures. One weird thing was the water level of Lake Natoma. I had never seen it so high. Normally the lake is quite placid, but today you could actually see the current moving downstream. There isn't much of a snow pack left in the Sierras, so I found it odd. Perhaps this is because the salmon run just started in the American River?

Anyway, that's about it. Time for some much deserved ice cream.

Later.

Roll of the Dice

Even though the forecast called for rain well into the late afternoon, I decided to take my Salsa Fargo to work and ride home yesterday. When it came time to leave work, the rain had ceased in Sacramento. Texts from home reported rain up in the hills, though, some 39 miles away by bike.

Angry gusts blew hard from the south-east, hitting me with nasty crosswinds for the first half of my ride. The empty bike trail made me wonder if everyone else knew something I didn't. Periods of warm sun interrupted by dark, cold clouds made it difficult to stay comfortable. I finally opted for a jacket; I prefer heat over cold any day.

While riding over the levee the wind seemed to strengthen, bullying me from my right, and I rode at an exaggerated angle to the ground as I leaned into the heavy air.

Once I entered the singletrack, the forest protected me from the wind. The rain left the trails in perfect condition—damp but not muddy.

Leaving Brown's Ravine, my route turned south-east. The real climbing began just as I turned into the wind. Almost every tough climb seemed to conspire with the wind all the way home, doubling the difficulty while halving my speed.

Rain cells blew across the sky, low and mean. At the summits it seemed like I could reach up and touch the clouds.

After 3.5 hours in the saddle, I rolled down the driveway a little after 7 p.m. A lengthy bike commute makes for a long day, but a good one.

Later.

Three Seconds

I rode the 39 miles to work yesterday and followed it up with 60 on the bike trail today. I now have 494 miles for the month, just six miles miles short of my goal with eight days to go. I like my chances.

The only thing worth noting about yesterday's commute to work was my choice of cameras. You may remember some months back when I purchased a Contour Roam video camera and promised to make movies. Well, I quickly learned some things. Making videos takes time, patience and a fast Internet connection. I have none of those things.

The Contour Roam was also the wrong choice. I wish I had gone with the GoPro instead. I think the Contour mounting method is flawed and leads to an unstable camera that (for me) produces nothing but blurry, shaky, headache-inducing video. I have tried three different mounts so far, and none have worked for me. I may try the helmet mount, or I may just cut my losses and sell it.

Anyway, yesterday I tried using the still picture setting for the first time, choosing to take a picture every three seconds. I thought it might be cool to take pictures during the entire ride hands-free and be able to choose the best ones later. Unfortunately, all 3000 of them sucked.

Here are a few that sucked the least.

We had a little fog on the hill, making for a dark and creepy start to the ride.

Riding through the big city.

Blue morning.

Heading up the only tough climb of the mostly downhill ride.

Serrano

Wild Oaks Park

Brown's Ravine

Dyke 8

Near the dam.

Lake Natoma

More trail near Lake Natoma.

Obviously retired. Lucky bastard.

Lets just pretend there are pictures depicting the 10 miles of flat, boring bike trail here . . .

The Temple of Doom.

Bike Lockers

So there you go. A 39-mile commute to work in pictures.

Later.

Double Back

Everything that was good about riding to work Thursday couldn't have been more different yesterday while riding home. It was hot and windy, with allergens filling the air. My eyes and nose watered. I felt fatigued. My legs weren't exactly sore or tired; I just had no energy. I called down to the engine room and asked for more power, but Scotty was in the bar again.

There were stretches on the bike trail where the wind was hitting me head-on. At times it slowed me quite a bit, and along Lake Natoma I crawled along at a whopping nine miles per hour. I figured I might as well take a picture. It's not like riding with one hand was going to slow me down any more.

I had nothing in the tank on the first few climbs, but when I made it to Dyke 8 where the dirt starts, I felt energized a bit. Singletrack is fun even when you are dying. The scenery helps too.

I took the same basic route home until I left Brown's Ravine. At that point I decided I didn't want to do all the climbing on the "fun" route and took Green Valley Road the rest of the way. It lopped off a few miles and hundreds of feet of climbing. It was such a relief to get home.

I took today off. Tomorrow I will get back out there and log more May miles.

Later.

Bike to Work

Today I rode all the way to work for the first time ever. After all, it was Bike to Work Day.

I have made the return trip home via bike on many, many occasions, which is a simple process. Jen and I drive to work in the truck together with the bike. After work I change my clothes, throw my crap in the truck and ride home. Easy.

On a few occasions, I have parked in Folsom to ride in. It was a pain. Bringing work clothes, another set of riding clothes, a towel, soap, shampoo, deodorant and taking a shower at work was a hassle, not to mention it's a lot of stuff to carry. Then to ride back to Folsom after work, load up the truck and sit in rush hour traffic on Highway 50 seemed dumb.

Still, I wanted to participate, but the round trip of 80 miles was daunting. During my ride after work yesterday the wheels started spinning. I could ride from home on Thursday, leave the bike overnight, and ride home Friday. Brilliant!

To ride from home I would have to leave very early to make it to work at a reasonable time, and that of course would require a light. The upside was I could send a bag with all my stuff to work with Jen and ride unencumbered by clothes, supplies, etc. After skipping the event for many years I decided to go for it.

I prepared a duffel bag last night with everything I needed and threw it in the car. I charged up my light battery, attached the headlamp to my helmet, put flashers on my bike, stuffed anything else I needed in my backpack and laid out my clothes.

Morning arrived and I didn’t quite make my 5 a.m. departure time. Being a new experience, I forgot a few things and was scrambling around to find them, but I still managed to roll out at 5:20. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I walked out, and I looked like The Underminer:

Dear Pixar, please make this movie.

It was still dark enough that I required the light for the first 20 minutes. On the second descent, a narrow one lane road, I nearly hit a deer. The damn thing just stood there in the road like, well, a deer in the headlights.

One thing you notice immediately when using a headlamp is all the junk floating in the air in front of your eyes. There's a lot of stuff suspended in the air you breathe. So much so that I have to wonder, as a cyclist, what has accumulated in my lungs after all these years. I can picture my body on the autopsy table (you know, when I'm 105 or so) and after making the Y-cut, the doctor starts pulling various stuff out. It's like the scene in Jaws—a pile of dirt, rocks, nails, bugs, birds, old tires, a license plate or two . . .

Shortly after the deer encounter I almost crashed going around a gate. The residents like to pile rocks in the gully to the side—the place everyone rides or walks to get around the gate—hoping this will dissuade people from using their private road. This behavior has always confounded me. I don’t think a few rocks are going to stop a murderous nutjob carrying a chainsaw. But I do think it has probably put a few innocent kids on the pavement. Anyway, I hit one of those rocks and my front tire came out from under me. I recovered and kept it upright, but it was a close call. I continued down the descent, my eyes watering from the wind. I couldn’t find my glasses with clear lenses, so for one of the few times ever I was riding without eye protection.

After dropping down into Cameron Park, I had one major road to cross, and then it was quiet roads for a while. The morning was cool and overcast. I rode at a comfortable tempo, my headlamp cutting a path through the darkness. In the quiet my mind wandered, and I thought about the 24-hour races, some of the few times I have used lights. Good times with good friends.

After riding residential streets for a while, I did the climb up Oak Hollow, then dropped down into El Dorado Hills. From there the bike trail along Bass Lake Road took me into Serrano. After riding a stretch of road, the next 30 minutes were all on dirt—the Serrano Trail, Powerline, New York Creek, Wild Oaks and Brown’s Ravine. Mountain biking on fun trails, almost all of which were downhill, was an awesome way to start the work day.

After popping out at Dyke 8 I had a short jaunt on East Natoma to the bike trail.

The bike trail was 18 miles of uneventful monotony, but that’s fine. It beats dealing with cars any day. At the end I just had about 1.5 miles of Folsom Boulevard to contend with, and I was at work. I scored a “May is Bike Month” T-shirt, some yogurt, a protein bar, an orange and a bottle of water.

I stopped by the car to grab my duffel bag and headed in for my shower. In the end, it wasn’t much of a hassle at all, and I had a great time. I actually want to start earlier next time to get more time in the dark.

After years of riding uphill towards home, it was nice to see this elevation profile!

Later.

Scenic Route Home

Yesterday I rode home from work for the first time in months.  I decided to break out the mountain bike and utilize as much dirt as I could.  I wanted to be away from the cars, for one thing, and being on the trails is definitely more pleasant from an aesthetic standpoint.

After hitting a few short trails along the way, the first long one is the trail running on the south-east side of Lake Natoma.  It isn't very technically demanding, but it's over five miles long, and the views are nice:

Crossing the American River:

Folsom Dam:

Riding along the dyke; it was nice to see Folsom Lake so high:

It was hot outside, so the occasional shade was great—something you don't get on the road:

Some big fish, probably carp, in an inlet:


New York Creek trail. More shade!

Powerline Trail:


Looking back down on Powerline after a steep climb:


Serrano trail:



Looking down on Folsom Lake:




I rolled into the driveway with a mileage total just short of 40 miles. My burning legs let me know it was a good ride. I think I'll do it again next Friday.

Later.