Dave’s Good Stuff

After a long weekend involving lots and lots of fun with the rest of my team in Omaha, NE, and some far less fun work unclogging and replacing the downstairs toilet, I’m back and ready to really kick it up a notch this week.

Over on my commute routes page, I’ve laid out the route I intend to take every day this week. ~35 miles home every day, today through Thursday, and nearly the same loop again on Friday. In the mornings I’m going to buck up and take my 15 mile route into work, going well out of my way out to Lackman before doubling back and heading back into Overland Park.

It is going to be an exhausting week, but it’s designed to break me down. Next week I’ll be in full recovery mode with little to no exercise while my body repairs itself for the Triple Bypass, by which time I’ll be the stronger for the effort I pour out this week.

I’ll probably be posting some pretty boring stuff this week. Dry accounts of how I’m feeling, how the rides went and the like. I want to be able to look back and see exactly where I was and how I felt about it.

I don’t expect much in the way of commuter or lawn mower racing posts this week, but you can always hope. ;)

It’s been well documented that whenever two or more commuters meet on the road, it is necessary that they race. It’s unspoken, and rarely even acknowledged, but accepted without question.

I hear that runners have the same rules.

This morning was supposed to be a relaxing ride in. It was supposed to see me arrive at work relatively low on the sweat meter. In case you’re not paying attention, it didn’t end up that way.

Russ and I hit the intersection of 91st and Lamar at the same time. I was heading east and turning right, while he was heading west and turning left. He hails from Brookside, and I from Shawnee. Honestly, this morning I was that guy that doesn’t stop to chat. I was that guy who just rides on with only a nod, anti-social and distant even though you’re going the same direction. I was feeling solitary and withdrawn due to some general life stresses that have been getting the best of me. I turned right and rode on, pulling a pretty good pace down the hill from 91st to 95th. He apparently kept up pretty well, because the light at 95th stopped us both. We introduced ourselves and struck up a conversation (I wasn’t feeling *that* rude). He works for the advertising company that serves my company. Go figure! Small world, isn’t it?

And that’s when the race began. What started as an easy 17-18mph downhill turned into a 23-26mph minor hammerfest. He was pushing as hard as I was, judging by his breathing. He stayed a bit ahead the whole time. I was still resisting the urge to hammer it fully, but I kept up with him all the same. Interestingly enough, when we got to the incline between Indian Creek Dr and the 435 overpass, I dropped him. My climbing has improved quite a bit over the last few months, which I hope will help ease my passage over the passes in Colorado.

He went his way east towards work at the roundabout, and we bid our farewells. It’s possible we’ll see each other again, but it’s hard to beat the sort of timing we had this morning.

This morning, our hero finds himself racing against manicured lawns everywhere. Turning east on 91st, he notices what appears to be a street cleaner in the distance. He up shifts and increases his tempo just a bit to try and catch up. Unfortunately, stop signs and passing traffic keep him at a distance. He makes quick work of the 69 Highway overpass, and enters the rolling hills of Elmhurst. More stop signs and traffic continue to keep him at bay, but he finally catches his quarry at 91st and Grant. Unfortunately, there are still two cars between himself and what turned out to be an industrial size riding lawnmower.

One car, impatient with the slow and steady pace of the mower, guns it and passes, leaving just one car in between our hero and certain victory! The last obstacle guns her engine as well, but seeing oncoming traffic, stays put, forcing our spry pedalist to do the same. At about that time, a car comes up from behind and tries to squeeze him to the curb, but he puts a hand out and holds firm. The driver backs off, perhaps knowing what is at stake.

At the stoplight at Antioch, the mower turns right, and the driver ahead turns left. A few cars come through going south on Antioch. Delay is unavoidable. The cars clear, and a quick start puts the velomeistro back in play. That leaves nothing and no one between him and the grass eater. Victory is in sight! Ahead, the mower turns to a side street that immediately becomes a short but steep hill. Pulling almost 20mph, our hero closes in. Finally, at the crest of the hill, he shoots around the tenacious Toro with a wave, and is rewarded with one of the longest descents of the ride.

The driver of the dusted mulcher never saw what hit him.

Happy with his hard won victory, he relaxes a bit and enjoys the rest of the ride, secure that there is no mower on the streets that can best him and his Torelli.

In a stunning upset last night, Deep Pockets, formerly in 6th place out of 10, defeats the 1st place team 8-Ball Junk-eez 3 and a half rounds to 1 and a half rounds. When asked how she felt about the outcome, one team member replied simply “Hell YEAH!!!” It is uncertain how last nights stellar showing on the part of Deep Pockets will change the overall rankings, but one thing can be certain: they are out of their slump.

Defeating the first place team did a lot to bolster the flagging confidence of the team members. Over the course of the last three weeks, they went from splitting the rounds even, to suffering two 1 round nights in a row. Out of 12 rounds, they won 4.5. While last nights performance may not have improved their percentages enough to put them in one of the top three spots, winning the majority of the rounds against the first place team made the team members feel like they were already there.

Of the four team members, two monopolized the 8-ball, each sinking it three times out of four for 37 points each. While the other two team members weren’t able to pot the 8, they were able to maximize their losses with 5’s, 6’s and 7’s. Only once did our team suffer a significant defeat, when, having been unable to pot a ball, an opponent ran out to the 8 for the win, resulting in a zero to 10 score. That game resulted in a tie for the round, but it wasn’t enough to deter the tenacious Deep Pocket players, who were able to hold on to the point lead through the next round to the end of the night.

Looking forward, we’ll have to wait to see how the rest of the teams managed before we can know how last nights performance affected the overall standings. One thing is for certain, however, Deep Pockets will enter next weeks match with heads held high with renewed confidence.

I woke up a little late this morning. I drove in yesterday to drop the car off and bring clothes in for the week, and since driving in affords me a little more sleep, I gave it to myself. Unfortunately, I forgot to reclaim it this morning, and so I slept late.

Not that it mattered. I woke up to thunder, lightening and rain. I’m not sure what I would have done had I a car at home, but without one, I started preparing the all-weather Kona for the ride in. It was pretty easy. I have mounts for the headlight and taillight on both bikes, so moving them over is literally two snaps. I have to move the frame/battery bag over, but that’s easy enough with four Velcro straps the only thing standing in the way. The panniers are already packed with the flat kit, and since my clothes were already at work, I didn’t have to worry about that. The rain cost me all of about 4 minutes. In reality, it cost me nothing, b/c (Recumbum may appreciate this) I waited until the lightening and thunder passed before heading out.

The ride in was, as always, uneventful. There was a yellow mustang driven by a rather attractive blonde that hung back and let me keep up with her until about halfway up the bridge taking Quivira over I35. It was fun watching the Hondas and SUVs tear away while this ripped and toned Mustang hung back to see what I could do. I’m sure she was just admiring my Edge 705 and Cat-eye Triple Shot… I can only imagine how well I would have done on my Torelli. I may have been able to keep up for another 20 or 30 entire feet!

The most harrowing event this morning was the pinched nerve that flared up violently in my upper back while I was still at home swapping out lights. I’ve had pinched nerves before, but never so acute and so sudden. Fortunately, while the ache is still there, and I don’t have full range of motion yet w/o pain, it seems a relatively minor episode compared to some I’ve experienced. My Father dealt with this, and his father before him. I hope my sons and/or daughters don’t. It’s no fun.

Maybe I excited the nerves moving the weight bench from a friends house to mine. I’m committed to selling the Weider Max (pics here), due to a preference for actual weights vs. tension bars. Last night I picked up a weight bench with weights a friend of mine wanted to get rid of. It’s been waiting for me for months now, but until the garage sale, we had no room. It’s not as big, has actual honest-to-goodness weights, and it was free. Score.

Ok… back to the auditors…

I don’t think I’m a fan of making extra trips to work in order to carry clothes back and forth, thus enabling me to ride an otherwise non-commute-ready bike.

This week I’m going to try driving in on Monday, and driving home on Thursday. Why Thursday, I hear you asking… because on Friday, we’ll be in Omaha with the rest of my team for a team building pool party. It promises to be more than plenty fun!

Until then, however, we have auditors in all week, so I’m letting you know now, before you get terribly worried, that I may not be posting much this week. It’ll be a busy and stressful one, and I’ll be engaging in stress-reducing activities in my free time that likely won’t involve a lot of keyboard pecking.

This weekend marks the second weekend in a row we’ve held a garage sale. I’m going to count it as a nearly complete success. Most of the large items we wanted to peddle away have been, and those that remain will very likely go on Craig’s List or eBay without too much trouble. It’s been a lot of work, but we’ve got hard cash in hand now and open garage space.

Everybody wins!

Friday night I participated in my first June Moon ride. It was fantastic. I met Noah (who has some great, as always, pics from the ride up on his site) and Chris at their apartment complex, from where we made our way down to the Wendy’s parking lot at K10 and Woodland.

There were 9 of us all told. I felt more than a little like a noob, there amongst the likes of CommuterDude, Noah and BadgerLand, all of whom have been commuting for far longer than I. But cyclists are, by and large, a very friendly bunch, and we all got on great. We hung out there for a while, showing off our bikes and drooling over other bikes. There were all manner of rides, from beater mountains, to beater roadies, to fully decked out commuters (yum!) and racing bikes. We took off at 21:00 sharp for parts unknown (at least to me). My trusty 705 recorded the ride, and you can see the results on motionbased.com.

It’s been a long time since I’ve ridden in the dark, and though my light hadn’t been charged in a few days, there was plenty of light from the rest of the (extremely) bright headlights the rest of the troop were sporting. The air was calm, the stars were out, and all in all, those 50 miles were some of the most a fantastic, relaxing, invigorating and encouraging I’ve ridden in a long time.

We had a close call near Cedar Niles and 87th, as a family of skunks scurried off the road into the underbrush as the peleton passed. There was some residual aroma, but it was their natural state… no one was sprayed, thank the Gods. At this point, the light was really failing, and the collective brightness of our lights was readily apparent. I can only imagine how we must have looked to motorists, nevermind anyone who happened to be on their porch as we passed. What a sight we must have been! From there it was full speed ahead as we descended down what, in the dark, felt like a never ending hill. It was fantastic, made all the more exciting by the fact that, at those speeds, our lights were barely enough to illuminate stopping distance.

In spite of our daring-do, we arrived without incident in De Soto, and took a brief break while we refueled. Noah continued to snap pictures, one of which was of a bug splat on C’Dude’s glasses… Frankly, I’m not surprised he got hit. The bugs were out in force. I probably swallowed half a dozen or so. Who needs gel pack when you have flying insects?

On the way back, it was more climbing than descending, which is where the encouraging part of the ride factors in. I got to talking with Badger about him riding the Triple Bypass in ‘05. He had a few tips for me, which I took to heart. Given my performance on the relatively trivial hills on this ride, he was part of the group that voted in favor of my being ready in a few weeks. Whether they’re right or not, it’s bolstering to hear someone who’s ridden it think so, anyway.

Right around where we saw the skunks on the way out, we finally caught full sight of the barely waning gibbous, thereby making the ride a complete success. At that point, we lost Badger, and I picked up my pace a little bit. 35 miles into the ride, and my legs were feeling fantastic. At Woodland and Prairie Star Parkway, Al and I kept going straight to hit the Wendy’s parking lot from the backside, while the rest of the group took a right to hit it head on. Ours was a full sprint from Prairie Star all the way to Wendy’s, and it felt great!

More bike awe was had, and farewells were said, and Noah, Chris and myself made our way home. Parting ways near Monrovia, I saw a fox in the road on Neiman between 75th and 79th. He was probably dining on some fresh road kill before I startled him away from his meal…

“A cyclist!” he thought. “Well, what next? I have heard of strange doings in this land, but I have seldom heard of a cyclist riding about after midnight! There’s something mighty queer behind this.” He was right, but he never found out any more about it.

Just a few more minutes and I rounded out an even 50 miles as I rounded the corner before easing into my driveway. It was after 12:30 and I was fulfilled, but ready for bed.

I’m more determined than ever, now, to acquire for myself a commuter bike that I can trick out with fenders and bags and lights and all that jazz, and yet still maintain that nice roady feel.

See the posts by CommuterDude and Noah for other takes on the ride…

Tonight I join the ranks of the June Full Moon Madness riders. We’re meeting up at Wendy’s on K10 at 21:00, where we’ll start our meandering out to DeSoto and back. All in all, from my house, it’ll total a bit over 51 miles, and should go until sometime around 12:30 or 01:00 Saturday morning. Starting at 8:00 to meet Noah on the way, that will make for many glorious relaxed after-dark hours in the saddle.

It’s official. I’ve taken pictures, and have offered the Giant up for sale. I’m not asking much, probably way too little in fact, but in resisting the urge to be a pack rat, and in the spirit of recent events, it’s time to clean house, even of those things near and dear to us. Not to sound like a sentimental dolt about a bicycle, but I’m going to wax sentimental and doltish about a bicycle for a bit, so bear with me.

In this case, it’s the first bike I ever bought on my own with my own money. Ok, it was Mom and Dad’s money, but I was away at college out from under their immediate supervision. I made what I consider, in hindsight, a mature and responsible decision to purchase a bicycle for transportation and exercise, even opting for a lower end model, rather than the far flashier, but more expensive and alluring models. I could have bought posters, or booze, or food, or any number of other aesthetic, transient and ultimately useless things that college students away for the first time typically collect (note, I don’t include role-playing supplies, music, or computer games :). Instead, I chose a mode of transportation that was far cheaper, more efficient and more than adequate for my needs. I went practical. I thought ahead. I’m proud of myself.

That decision led to many years of service from a faithful and reliable friend. In the eyes of any one else, it’s just another bike. A Cro-moly frame populated with low end Shimano parts. Every spot of chipped paint and roughed up brake covers is a memory…

• This chip is from moving from my first apartment to my first rented house.
• That tear in the brake cover is from the spill I took turning around on a hill to talk to a friend. I ripped something in my shoulder, and to this day I can’t play racquetball because of it.
• Shiny and new beneath me the day I rode it out of Rick’s Bike Shop. All sleek lines and bright red.
• Spills in the rain trying to corner too fast.
• Following cars into parking lots to get their license plate and call it in after they nearly right-hooked me.
• Riding 20 miles out to Clinton Lake and back, thinking that was a fantastically long haul.
• Platform pedals with toe clips, and never once thinking about a helmet.
• Watching fully geared up cyclists running hill reps up to Clinton Lake dam and back over and over again, happy in my tennis shoes and jean shorts.
• Arriving to work in the freezing cold, my long hair frozen in icy ringlets and my bike stuck outside u-locked to the bike rack.
• Arriving home after work, my hands so cold the coldest tap water felt hot.
• Making it up the 14th St. hill onto campus for the first time, my lungs burning and my heart pounding, both from the effort and an overwhelming sense of first-accomplishment pride.
• Thinking I was surely going to die when, after two years of being stuck in a corner, she took me out on a quick two mile errand to get my car in the 90°F heat.
• Getting her out again after years, and loving that she still just worked.

To you, those are pictures of a red bike. To me, they’re an old friend that I’m finding increasingly difficult to let go.