Dave's Good Stuff

Perhaps a bit late in the year to start, but whatever. I rode a pretty decent route today around Shawnee, taking advantage of the rolling hills of Renner, and the brutal hills of Johnson Drive. It wasn’t easy going, and I’m still suffering some a distinct lack of strength, but I’ll get it back. The excess weight will fall away, and the muscles will rebuild. I’ll retool this ride to include the hills of Prairie Star Parkway, Woodland, 91st off Woodland, and 87th back towards Renner to maximize the hill workouts. That’ll be a butt kicker, if it do ya, but it’ll be fantastic!

The only problem is on those Johnson Drive hills, my Garmin keeps auto-pausing because I keep falling below the speed threshold. I’m going to have to drop it down below 3mph! LOL

I’m not going to break down every day like I did last year. Suffice to say the photos are available online here…

Enjoy!

I went to bed a few nights ago, as is my habit so that I might wake up the next morning, having slept the night before. This night, last night, was different…

You might recall that all of last year, or most of it, I rode my bike whenever possible to and from work, and many other miles besides. Logistically, this hasn’t worked out since about mid October. Furthermore, I’ve avoided pretty much any riding outdoors on account of the cold. I proved I could do it last year, and I realized I didn’t enjoy doing it (having forgotten that I already realized it back in my college years when I didn’t own a car). So this year, I’ve spent nearly all of my riding on the rollers. While they do make for a fantastic work out (once you start pedaling, you don’t stop until you’re done – there is no coasting downhill, there are no stops at intersections… it’s all on or all off), they’re also fairly boring when compared to the glorious outdoors.

So, my bikes have been been rather neglected, rejected, and ignored. They made this known to me on this night. I don’t know if it was a dream or not. I don’t typically remember dreams with this (or any) level of clarity. This felt real.

I awoke from a deep sleep, and was immediately startled into complete wakefulness by the horrific sight of two angry bikes, leaning threateningly over my bed. Their frames contorted in barely contained outrage, their cables seething with frustration, their chains grinding with resentment, and their brake levers pulsing with indignation, they lorded over me like cobras. My heart racing, I tried to scramble to the opposite side of the bed, but was caught in the sheets unable to move. Their cables, once smooth and lubricated nicely within supple housings, flayed about like the many heads of a hydra, and with evil and deadly purpose wrapped themselves around me, cutting into my flesh, and pulling me towards them. I was helpless against their will.

“WE HAVE WATCHED AS YOU CLIMB INTO THAT MONSTROSITY IN THE GARAGE, IGNORING US, WE WHO HAVE BROUGHT YOU TO NEW HEIGHTS OF GLORY AND FITNESS! WE SAY UNTO YOU NO MORE!!! WE WILL NOT REST UNTIL YOU HONOR US WITH THE MILES WE DESERVE!!!”

With a final tightening of the cables around my arms and legs, they let me go, and walked… yay walked out of the room. All was silent.

I lay there, bathed in the cold sweat of terror for what seemed like hours, but was likely only a few minutes. You know how time stretches in the quiet of night. Anyway, I eventually fell back asleep (or dreamed I was falling back asleep – whatever), and awoke to the normal alarm. The sheets were rather ruffled about, and the area rug near my bed in complete disarray. The bikes, however, were as I’d left them the night before, or should I say, weeks ago…

Let it not be said that I heed not the warnings presented to me so clear! Saturday morning I took the Dew Drop out for nearly 30 miles over some of the better hills northwest Johnson County has to offer. The Drop was happy. I was happy. I expect to sleep well and undisturbed tonight.

… was nice and toasty warm on this, my first ride of 2009.

Starting out at around 50°F, and closing out at around 40°F, I was wearing long leggings, a wicking base layer and a windbreaker up top, my Salsa N’Agua gloves, and plastic baggies between my wool socks and shoes. As I said, everything was nice and toasty except my toes. I think it was a combination between poorly set cleats and the cold, but my toes were all numb from the cleat down by the time I hit mile 20.

I took the Kona out. It’s very nearly as heavy as my old Fire Mountain, though the 700c wheels and 37mm tires are better suited for roads than the 26″/2.5″ set up was on the old one. Hence, my low average speed (13.8mph) combined with the relatively high top speed (38.1mph).

I can tell it’s been a while since I’ve really ridden. My HR was generally high the whole time, topping out at 202bpm, and the hills were especially taxing. Still, though I could feel it fading towards the end, my recovery was still pretty strong after completing a climb.

The highlight of the trip was the gorgeous sunset I saw as I was heading west on 83rd. One thing that Kansas has to offer is it’s sunsets. I *wish* I’d brought my camera. It would have been the perfect time to break it out while on a ride.

Oh well… next time.

So, by way of clearing my head and getting some miles, I took off last night on a quickie 33 miler over some of the best hills that Johnson County has to offer. At least, insofar as I know. If you know of others that aren’t on this route, please… do let me know.

Due to some aforementioned chaos, I wanted to get out and clear my head some. Unfortunately, before I could clear my head, I first had to fix (yet another damn) flat. They’ve been plaguing me lately. It seems every time I want to get out and ride these days, it’s either one tire or another, on one bike or another. It’s tiresome. Last night, it was last-straw sort of frustrating. I found the hole, didn’t find anything in the tire, replaced the tube and admittedly amidst a small amount of cursing, finally got out the door.

It didn’t take long for my mind to turn away from flats to the issues at hand, and turn it did. Over the course of the 33 miles, I did exactly what I set out to do…

1) Get miles in. Not many, but every little bit counts.
2) Confront my current personal demons. Again, not many, but they’re mean and they have spiky forearms and big horns.
3) Deal with those demons and claw my way out of the dark place I’d found myself in.

All three goals accomplished, insofar as one can over the course of a couple hours, I rolled slowly into the driveway, tired from pushing the hills and in a much better place.

The rest of the evening was relaxed. I had dinner, watched Heroes, and played with my online spreadsheets a while before heading to bed. For some reason, I went downstairs again and looked at the tires to make sure they were still pressurized. Nope. The previous flat had returned.

You have got to be kidding me. Again?! Another?!

That was it. I was done with it. I wasn’t going to stop until I find the culprit.

Filled up the sink with water. Aired up the tire and spun it in the sink until I saw air bubbles. I found the hole, stripped out the tube, and *very* closely examined the tire this time for little poking things. I was in a rush before and didn’t notice, but sure enough, there it was… a *tiny* little metal fragment buried in the tire. The pressure of the tube was enough to cause a puncture, but otherwise, it was all-but-invisible.

I got that little demon out. It took a while and I had to dig deep to get it, but I got it out.

Matthew had scheduled a paintball session for Friday afternoon, but my brother and I were really too concerned with making sure we were prepared for the Big Ride, and requested that it be rescheduled for Sunday (we were banking on not being too tired). He was agreeable, and so my brother and I drove down to Bergen Park (again) and met up with the rest of the “Warm Up” ride participants. While we were waiting, we noticed (how could we not) a silver Porsche Carrera drive up with a bike rack on top carrying a nice Scott. We couldn’t help but make a little fun of it. I mean, seriously… a Carrera, with a bike rack? C’mon. Turns out that it’s the Team Evergreen Club President!

I want to be a bike club president if it allows me to afford a Porsche!

He gives a bit of a speech to us, talking about the origins of the ride, and how it’s turned into one of, if not The premiere single day event in the country. He wishes us all the best of luck, and we all click in and set out….

…on a hard ride with some seriously confidence busting hills.

Triple Bypass “Warm Up” ride

It turned out to be a much more difficult ride than either of us imagined, or hoped it would be. We made it, but we were a lot more tired than we should have been after 16.5 miles. The altitude wasn’t affecting either of us as much as we expected it to, but the ride leaders set a mean pace. Naturally, we had to keep up. Dropping simply wasn’t an option.

That night, the GF made another dinner. This time she made home made Scallop and Shrimp Alfredo with Angel Hair pasta. It was an another amazing dinner. That GF of mine can cook, and loves to do so. Everyone who’s had anything she’s made loves that she loves to, as well.

Taking a lesson from our bike commuting experiences, we packed all our gear after dinner, knowing that in the morning we’d be too tired to be sure we’d gotten everything. Then, a couple of glasses of wine settled our nerves and we went down for an early bed time around 9:30pm.

Neither of us slept that well. We were anxious and nervous and excited all at the same time. We’d been preparing for over 8 months in our own separate ways, and as difficult as it was to believe, it was almost time…

After the success of the previous day’s ride, my brother and I wanted to ratchet it up a notch on Thursday. Not a huge notch, mind you, we were still cognizant of working ourselves too hard too early. We didn’t want to come down with altitude sickness, or stress our bodies too much before the Big Ride on Saturday. But we were also very pumped up. That meant more climbing and at a higher altitude.

This time, Matthew took us down to Bergen Park again to pick up my bike, and a few other odds and ends, and drove us all the way up to Echo Lake at the foot of Mt. Evans Road. Matthew drove back down to Bergen Park to wait for us. What a star!

Echo Lake to 12,000ft and back to Bergen Park

The climb up Mt. Evans Road is, all and all, a little steeper than up to Juniper Pass from Bergen Park. Combine the additional grade with the additional altitude, and we were working harder. But the extra effort was well worth it. It’s absolutely gorgeous up there. Made all the more compelling by having gotten there under our own power. All the pictures we took simply don’t do it justice… if you’ve not seen it, you owe it to yourself to head up thataway sometime.

At 12,200ft or so, we had to turn around in spite of a strong desire to continue on. Hunger pangs started to hit, and that’s a sure sign that it’s time to reduce effort and refuel. So turn around we did, and enjoyed yet another fast downhill run back to Echo Lake where we grabbed a light lunch and proceeded to climb back up to Juniper Pass before throwing it in neutral and letting gravity have her way with us back to Bergen Park. We didn’t sprint downhill like we did the day before, but it was still a blast!

While heading back, we stopped to check out one of the “scenic overviews.” While there, we met a local couple who were all to happy to help out a couple of flatlanders with a picture. Our camera batteries were dead, so she took this one and e’mailed it to us later.

Also on the way down… we saw a short (what appeared to be) Mexican man walking two wolves up towards the pass. I’m not sure if they were pure bred or mixed, but they were huge, they were gangly, they were grey, and they were gorgeous. If the camera batteries weren’t already dead, I would have stopped to take photos.

That night, the GF cooked up a fantastic meal of prime rib, roasted fennel, and crab cakes. Mmmmm…. is there anything crab cakes can’t do? It was so good, our hosts thanked *us* for the dinner, never mind that they were putting us up for the entire week free-of-charge.

After dinner, my brother found an organized warm up ride for the Triple Bypass being put on by Team Evergreen. It appeared pretty low key, and more of a tour of the Bergen Park area than anything, so we committed ourselves.

I’m used to waking up early in order to ride into work with time to cool off. My normal 05:00 CST wake-up time nearly came through for me, and I woke at 06:30 MST, and was unable to go back to sleep. So I got up and joined our host who was already up with coffee ready. It wasn’t long before my brother was up, and we started planning the week’s training. He was very concerned with not overdoing it, and fortifying ourselves with proper nutrition. I’ve been winging this whole thing from the start, so I continued that trend and just went with the flow. He been counting protein grams, and making sure to get the ride types of food at the right time during his preparation. I’ve been eating frozen pizzas and whatever else the GF puts in front of me. Granted, I’ve been eating *better*, but I’ve not been strict by even the least strict sense of the word “strict.” For the most part, I’ve been training like I ride… by the seat of the pants.

Elk Meadow to 10,000ft and back to Bergen Park

So, we eat what he recommends, and hang out for a few hours catching up, chatting with our hosts, and generally enjoying the start of our vacation. At around 11 or so, we packed up the truck with our cycling gear (including our bikes), and son #2 drove us down to Bergen Park, where we hit a local bike shop and had a quick bite to eat before hitting the road. While at the bike shop, I had them true my wheels and check the rear derailleur as it felt a little off. As it turns out, the derailleur drop out is bent a little. I opt to ride it as is, and take them up on the offer to fix it overnight. Wheels trued up, Son #2, who I will refer to as “Matthew” (b/c that’s is name) dropped my brother and I off on Highway 103 just west of Bergen, and we set out. Our plan was to ride for about 30 minutes, and then do 15 second sprints followed by 15 second recovery or another 15 minutes before turning around. Things didn’t really work out that way. 30 minutes came, and we just felt like continuing the slow climb up, which, as it turns out, wasn’t nearly as hard as we thought it would be. We set a nice slow pace of around 7mph, and just rode… and rode… and rode. Bergen is at about 7,700ft, and we probably started at around 7,900ft. After an hour, we were just a couple hundred feet shy of 10,000, and decided it would be criminal to not hit that mark. 10,000ft arrived, none the worse for wear, and we turned around to reap our reward.

I can tell you with no qualms whatsoever that flying down a mountain at 35-45mph, taking the corners and curves tight on a bike built for racing is one of the singular joys in life. I won’t say it’s better than sex, but I will say it comes damn near. I really put my Torelli through the paces, learning it’s limits in ways Kansas is simply not equipped to offer. We were laughing the whole time, pushing ourselves more than we intended, but we couldn’t help it! The spirit grabbed hold and would not let go. And then came The Curve. I’d replaced my brakes pads a few weeks back with brake pads I thought would be better. Let’s just say I’m glad they proved inadequate on an inside curve where I would have gone into the cliff face, rather than off the side of the cliff. I didn’t actually hit the cliff face, but I did leave the road surface and was headed that way. Lesson learned, we continued our downhill run, perhaps a little more cautious, but having a blast all the same.

Aside from leaving the pavement once, I was incredibly pleased with how the Torelli performed. It was absolutely perfect, cornering on rails, and dipping lower than I ever thought it would, only to bounce back up for the straightaways like it was coming up off a trampoline. What a fantastic bike to have for those 45mph runs. The triple crank also came in damn handy. I don’t think I would have been able to make it without it. I probably could have used another cog on the low end, but I made do just fine.

Arriving back in Bergen Park, I drop the bike off at the shop to have them bend the drop out back into place, and we head back to the cabin, feeling very good about being able to finish the Triple Bypass. We made the climb up to 10,000ft quite easily, and had the time of our lives on the way down.

A few hours later the bike shop calls me back and tells me that not only is the drop out bent (easily fixed), but the rear derailleur is bent as well and one of the chain tensioner cogs is loose (fixable only with a replacement part). It still works, though, so I decide I’m not in the mood to spend $300, and tell them to adjust it as best they can, and I’ll replace it later. That disappointing call out of the way, my brother and I and Matthew (who you’ve already met) and Andrew (son #1) get back to playing Halo 2.

We’re nowhere near as good at Halo as we are at riding.

I’m sorry Kansas. I didn’t mean to make you cry. You’re beautiful in your own right… and no matter what anyone says, bigger is not always better in the hills department. Be happy with what you have, and others will be happy with you too.

We got to the ride start after stopping off at a coffee shop for some coffee and swag and hung out in the parking lot waiting for the rest of the pack to show up. One guy drove up in a silver Carerra with a bike rack on top. What a sight that was. He got out, an old wizened fellow with silver hair, stocky of build and yet with the definition of one used to long ride in a bike saddle. I have to admit, we did make a little fun of the fact that he drove a Porche to a bike ride, and with a bike rack, no less. As it turns out, however, he’s the Team Evergreen club president. Who’d've thunk it?

At 12:55 they called everyone together. There were about 30 of us, and they gave the typical “thank you for showing up, ride safe and obey the law” speech. The club president mentioned the growth of the Triple Bypass over the years, saying that it far outstripped what the original organizers had in mind, and that it was one of, if not the premier one day ride in the nation.

All I know is that it’ll be a defining challenge for myself and my brother.

After the short speech, we were on our way. All in all, it was, in a word, tough. It was a lot more effort than either myself or my brother anticipated, and we’re hoping it didn’t set us back too much the day before the Big Ride tomorrow. I think he’s more worried than I am. I’m used to riding day after day after day. Him? Not so much.

Not only was today more physically taxing, it was more mentally taxing. I think the reason, at least in part, is that we didn’t know when the climbs would end. They were steeper, and we didn’t know how long they’d go. Tomorrow, though we’ll be climbing hard for miles upon miles, we know going into it that we’ll be climbing for miles upon miles. We can steel ourselves before the first pedal stroke, thus saving us any mental anguish that comes from asking the question “When will it end?!” We didn’t have that today. Additionally, we rode considerably harder and faster today just to stay with the pack. Wise? Maybe not. But it’s what cyclists do.

We spoke with a couple of the other guys that are riding tomorrow, and they mirrored our sentiment that the climbs today were more difficult than, at least, the climb up to Juniper, the first peak we’ll arrive at tomorrow.

All the same, it was another gorgeous ride in Colorado.

Just a quick post to let you know how things are going.

Had some problems with the bike, and had to drop some cash to get it up to par. Problems included a bent rear derailleur drop out, and insufficient braking power. The rear derailleur is bent, but not so bad that it doesn’t work. It just doesn’t work perfectly.

My brother and I got out yesterday and rode about 18 mile from 7,500ft to *just* over 10,000ft. We both felt fantastic.

We got out again today and rode from about 10,000ft to 12,000ft, and then back down to 7,500ft. We still feel fantastic. Up above the timberline, we were loving life.

So far, though we can still feel the effects of altitude are minimal.

In short, thus far, this place rocks! Our hosts are incredible, the riding has been going great, and it is absolutely gorgeous out here. Riding in Kansas when I get back is going to be boring.