Monthly Archives: September 2010

Focus on the top of the hill or the end of the ride

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I’m still not riding with my son (Kevin), as he gets some strange pains figured out (initially thought to be another kidney stone, but now possibly chronic appendicitis). Kevin’s going to have some catching up to do (literally!) when he’s finally back on his bike again.

Some aren't shy for the camera! This is at the top of Old LaHonda.

Riding in the mountains with just one arm available? Proof it can be done!

Today it was up Old LaHonda, down the other side to San Gregorio, then north on Stage to Pescadero, over Haskins, up West Alpine and then a return on Skyline & down 84 back into Woodside. 66 miles, 6800ft of climbing. No speed run today; I took some time to talk with people along the way, including a woman who I came across walking her bike up the last part of Old LaHonda (she’d been off the bike for six years raising kids), a guy who, as you can see in the photo, wasn’t camera shy at the top of Old LaHonda, and on my return, at Old LaHonda yet again, I came across a couple that were sorta kinda lost but not really. More interesting was that the guy had one arm in a sling and had his bike set up suitably to accomodate that.

Regarding the woman who hadn’t been riding in six years (she’s in the photo with the guy waving, in the yellow shirt to his left), I took a quick look at her bike and she could have it a whole lot easier. The bike was maybe 20 years old with a standard double crank and not a very large rear cogset, so she must have been struggling with some pretty high gears. She’s nuts to just brush that off as not being that big a deal… she’s got way higher gears than I would ever want to climb with, and I’m known to climb in pretty big gears, standing most of the way. Hope she still has some knees left!

Yes, it was a bit drizzly, but never cold. There’s something strange about being in a fog at 68 degrees. Still had a bit of a headwind going out to the coast, but not too bad. The gravel on Stage Road is less of an issue now, and I heard from some cyclists that Kings Mtn is now usable again (so we don’t have to work on an alternative route on Tuesday).

Sal on his single-speed fixed-gear bike, on a very hilly ride

The run from Pescadero over Haskins is always tough, one of those stretches that I can’t quantify why that should be the case. On paper, it doesn’t look that bad, but your legs feel it. But about the time I was feeling sorry for myself I come across Sal, our super-duper customer/domestique (did you know there was such a thing?) who runs our secret soda stop for the Sequoia Century. Sal was out there on his fixed gear bike, yes, riding over Haskins and Stage on a single speed! So much for me thinking I had it tough.

But it was climbing up West Alpine that I had an interesting revelation. As it would get steeper and I started thinking about easing up a bit, I realized that, in my mind, I was planning to throttle back about five pedal strokes ahead. Almost as if I were looking for an excuse to take it easier. Don’t do that!!! I decided that it was wrong to anticipate those next few pedal strokes; only bad things could come of that. So instead I just kept plugging away, and it worked. Focus on getting to the end, not the middle. Where you are is only relevant if you think about it too much. Where you want to be is what’s important.

Jailed on the Tourmalet

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Two months later and I’m finally going through the photos I took from the 2010 Tour de France. This was the scene with 9k to go on the Tourmalet, the last climb in the ‘Tour, Andy Schleck’s last chance to try and beat Alberto Contador. A big day! And an epic day for us as well, having gone to bed the night before with a raging thunderstorm rattling the windows, and having ridden that morning 25 miles in weather that varied from drizzle to downpour.

Normally, if you plan your ride so you’ll get to your spot three hours before the race comes through, you’re fine. This day wasn’t normal. At two different towns along the way, we were told bikes couldn’t get through. Stay here or go back. And this was with at least four hours to go! Thankfully, I had my Garmin Edge 705 with the Euro mapping chip, so I was able to find my way around the outskirts of each town and back onto the main road, ahead of the Gendarmes that were blocking the way. At one point we had a huge number of other cyclists following us; I felt like the pied piper.

The Gendarme from Hell

But then we came across the Gendarme from Hell. We’re riding along, then see some spectator waving at us and yelling something in Italian that we couldn’t understand, so we get off the bikes, thinking it’s the regular ritual, ride your bike when you’re out of sight, then walk each time you see a Gendarme. No, the guy waving at us was trying to tell us to go back before it was too late! The idiot Gendarme wouldn’t let people get past, nor would he let people go back down the hill. Once you were in his territory, if you were on a bike, you were in jail.

The second photo shows the dead-end side road the Gendarme forced us to leave our bikes on. We weren’t allowed to be anywhere near them, because he feared (correctly) that we’d get on them and fly up the hill as soon as he turned away. So instead of getting close to the finish, or at least up past the corner, where things open up to a dramatic view, we were stuck in this no-man’s-land. Even after the race went past we weren’t allowed down the hill for another half hour, and with

The "Bicycle Jail" on the Tourmalet

hundreds of cyclists backed up behind this guy, I’d just about had enough and decided to get something going, something to rattle this guy. He doesn’t understand English, he doesn’t want to explain in French, so what do do? Grrrrr. No, I mean Grrrrr. That’s what I did. I growled. And got other people to growl as well. One big mob of cyclists, many growling, had to be unsettling to the guy. But nowhere near as unsettling as the afternoon had been for us, his prisoners.

Chris suggested Bear Gulch but didn’t show?

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Steep with a view to die for

With Kings Mtn a mess of gravel, tar & oil, we took Chris’s suggestion (from a comment he made here two days ago) to do Bear Gulch, one of Skyline’s notorious dead-end roads. But at 7:45am, where was Chris? Kevin, Marcus, Eric, Syl, Mike & Jan were there, but no Chris.

The new route took us out to the base of Kings but instead of heading up the hill, we made the left turn at Tripp and did something few ever do- we climbed 84. Yes, we rode up the east side of 84 (from Woodside) and it really wasn’t that bad. Not too many cars, and we got strung out single-file pretty darned quickly anyway. For about a mile I had hope of hanging on, but I finally lost the wheel in front of me and arrived maybe a minute after the fast guys. The grade is so shallow on 84 that it’s pretty fast and almost fun. I can only imagine how fast the Tour of California guys rode up it.

But from Sky Londa the fun came to an abrupt halt. I don’t know of anyone, anywhere, who will say they enjoy the ride north on Skyline from Sky Londa. It’s just one of those obnoxious grades that you can’t sink your teeth into, or develop a rhythm. It just has to be endured, and endure we did, up to the intersection with Bear Gulch.

Left to right, Marcus, me, Jan, Kevin, Syl & Eric at the gate on Bear Gulch

Bear Gulch. One of Skyline’s three notorious dead-end roads, all flowing down the west side and ending at gates that prevent you from enjoying an alternative route to the coast (thank you, Neil Young). The first couple miles of Bear Gulch are similar to a one-lane version of the top of Tunitas, with Kevin riding off the front a bit, acting as our early-warning system for oncoming traffic (of which there is a surprising amount on this little road). You just tune your ears for the sound of crunching carbon when he’s out of sight around the corner. Soon the forrest ends and you get a beautiful sweeping vista of the coast mountains and ocean, which you could actually enjoy if you didn’t have to ride your brakes so hard on the nearly-20% grade!

Climbing back up Bear Gulch

A mile or so of that and boom, you almost literally run into the gate at the end. After taking the obligatory pictures (one of the very few you’ll ever see with myself in the photo) it was time to turn around and discover, as expected, that a 20% grade is even worse going up than down.  From the top we simply rode back the same way we came, finishing the ride about 8 minutes later than normal, about half a mile shorter than normal, and 200ft more climbing than normal. We’re making an assumption here that “normal” is what we’ve done, without fail, every Tuesday & Thursday morning for the last 20+ years, knowing full well that many, perhaps most, wouldn’t think a “normal” person would do that. Chris, you missed a good ride!

“Spinal Tap” or “Almost Famous”?

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Two great movies that came to mind when the keyboardist for Brad Paisley (whose name I’ll leave out because I didn’t tell him I’d be plastering it on the ‘net) came in to look at a Madone this afternoon. Interesting to think about the parallels between a rock band traveling around the west coast on a big bus and a bike racing team! And yes, I did ask him about Spinal Tap and Almost Famous. Back in the day, sounds like those movies might have been a bit closer to the mark than they are now, with the stars of rock & country getting older, raising families, becoming almost passable as normal people. LB, if you’re reading this, that’s meant as a compliment :-)

This guy’s got the right idea. He has a special section he’s created on the bus, with a wood box his bike goes into so that nothing gets piled on top of it. It’s got to be pretty cool traveling around and seeing the different places you go to by bike. I can’t see spending months on the road myself, but if I had to, bringing my bike with me would be how I’d remain sane. Then again, maybe I’m missing an opportunity here. Maybe you could have a big bus mobile bike shop that travels the country, announcing its presence ahead of time on the ‘net?

Reaching the end of the world

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The End of the World

It had to happen sometime. 30 years of the Tuesday/Thursday-morning ride, stopped by nothing, not rain, not snow, not even small landslides… we always got through. But not today. We, that would be a total of just four of us this morning (myself, Eric, George & Chris) knew it was coming, but we rode up Kings anyway. About half a mile or so, until reaching the end of the world. Well, OK, the end of solid pavement actually; you can see in the photo where the centerline abruptly ends, and for all intents and purposes, that’s where the road ended for us. The idea of 3+ miles or riding in gravel just didn’t appeal to us. Well, most of us anyway; Chris just kept on riding. We assume he made it, but as far as we were concerned, this was like a twilight zone episode where the world ended just up around the bend.

So the remaining three of us retraced our route back down, with George heading off to do intervals (ouch) while Eric and I headed off to Old LaHonda, down the other side (into the fog & cold; as you can see on my bike computers, it was 46 degrees over there!) to 84, then reverse course back up west-side Old LaHonda and down 84 into Woodside. I wasn’t very good company for Eric, who usually gets to ride with people who can actually carry on a conversation while climbing.

Why three computers? I’m into that whole digital-cockpit thing. Two are direct-wired to my brain, and one of them control my secret hidden motor (that one doesn’t seem to work). More seriously, the Garmin 705 in the middle does everything I need, but I sell a lot of the other two units (a Trek Alpine DW on the left, and a Bontrager Node 1 on the right) and it helps me to keep familiar with them so I can explain better how they work to customers.

Shadows and Fog on west-side Old LaHonda

It was quite pretty heading down west-side Old LaHonda into the fog though, as you can see in the photo. In the end it was about two miles shorter than normal; I’ll have to figure out a way to kick in a bit more miles & climbing for Thursday’s ride. Maybe we’ll head up & over Old LaHonda, back up to Skyline, and then do one of the dead-end roads we haven’t done for a while.

Starbucks knows what they’re doing

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Take Comfort in Rituals

We could learn a lot from Starbucks. They’re right up front about what they are, what they’ve established and the relationship they intend to continue with you. Ritual. So much part of your daily routine that you don’t feel guilty about spending $5 for a sugared-up cup of coffee & milk, because it’s not that you’re spending money there, it’s become what you do.

The word ritual carries interesting connotations… something you do without thinking. Something that maybe, sometime in the past, you made a commitment to, and now you’re doing your best to follow through. Something that you need to do before you can go on to the next thing. Something you can’t escape.

So instead of a trip to Starbucks being something you do once in a while, you’re reminded it’s something you do ritualistically, like combing your hair a certain way or saying grace before a meal or inflating your tires to exactly 120 psi before each ride. And on their door, they remind you, every time you pass by, that rituals are a good thing, and thatis Starbucks is a part of your daily life.

Brilliant people running that company.

It begins with a #525 Michelin map spread across the floor… (the 2011 Tour de France)

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And so begins the preparation for a visit to the 2011 Tour de France. Every year I go, I figure it might be the last for a while, because what compelling reason could there be to go again, what unique set of circumstances would make such an effort worthwhile? And every year since 2000, except one, I have found the allure of the Tour de France impossible to escape. I had a good shot at breaking the chain three years ago, the year I didn’t go. It wasn’t easy; I was definitely going through withdrawal, and really badly wanted to get back to Europe even afterward, perhaps to see the Vuelta. In the end, I stayed home, watching the ‘Tour every day, and wishing I was there (even though 2008 wasn’t that great a race, with Carlos Sastre winning in unimpressive style).

But yesterday the bug hit. Again. I went to the usual sites, the ones that have figured out the route ahead of the official announcement, and started to piece together an itinerary. It won’t be easy! With the ‘Tour going counter-clockwise in 2011, it will be the days in the Alps that make the difference, so that’s where we’ll be. And the Alps are much more difficult to get around than the Pyrenees, with fewer options for train travel so a rental car becomes a requirement, not an option.

The ‘Tour is going to come up from the south into Gap around the 19th of July, and between then and the 23rd will apparently be hitting the Telegraph, Galibier, Alpe d’Huez, Glandon, a final individual time trial up the beyond-category Chamrousse and possibly even the Izoard. Amazingly, there’s a lot of new territory for me in that mix; I’ve set to climb the Telegraph, Galibier, Izoard (which I’m really looking forward to) or Chamrousse.

Making things difficult is that there’s no one place you can spend several nights, as was the case two years ago when we planted ourselves in Albertville for 5 days. It’s possible LaGrave could work out for a few days, but if I don’t get my act together quickly, what few rooms exist there will be gone. And since, at this stage, the route isn’t yet certain, there’s a chance that LaGrave might be the wrong place at the wrong time.

And then there’s the issue of leaving the shop, yet again, at close to the busiest time of the year. Of course, it’s a long way off, and we’ve got the opportunity to beef up the staff well before then, plus, while my daughter gripes about me taking off and leaving her and my wife in charge of things, they do a pretty decent job and they’re not above feeling good reminding me that yes, the shop can exist without me for a few days (as long as they’re here to take care of it).

Addendum 11:39pm- have made reservations for 7/19-7/23 at a place near La Grave, in the Alps. This will give us easy access to all of the Alps stages with the exception of the final time trial on Saturday, the 23rd, which will require a two-hour drive. There are very few places with rooms left to rent, in fact, far fewer tonight than when I first looked last night! From here on, a trip to see the TdF in the Alps will probably have to be booked through a tour company (which has already booked a block of rooms on spec).

I can do a 65 mile ride and estimate my return within a couple minutes?

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Some things don’t make sense. I could start with my son’s kidney stone issue, which may not be a kidney stone after all (he was in pretty bad pain this morning so yet another visit to the Doctor, and this guy thought maybe it’s just a severe muscle pull??? A nasty muscle pull whose pain is transient?). Whatever the case, I eventually got out and stuck to the original plan- 65 miles with at least one piece of nastiness, Redwood Gulch.

From Woodside I wound through Portola Valley and the various back roads down to our Los Altos store, where I needed to take care of something on a couple of the computers. After that it was up Stevens Creek to Redwood Gulch. Oh, which reminds me, when I added “Never give up, Never surrender!” to my daughter’s jersey design, it didn’t occur to me that that would encourage people to latch onto my wheel as I rode past. I had two very determined wheel suckers from Woodside to Los Altos (at different times), and in both cases I had passed them at a pretty good speed, but they latched on quickly. Um, OK, I’m used to hauling my son around, so why not. It’s a little bit tiring though, because you have a responsibility to maintain an even speed, and for egotistical reasons, you don’t feel like you can slack off. I didn’t give it much thought until I came across another guy struggling up Redwood Gulch… he sped up quite a bit as I came past, and where it leveled off towards the top he came by and told me he read the “Never give up, never surrender!” on my jersey and felt like he had to kick it into overdrive.

Self-portrait

As you can see in the post below this one, Mr. Mustard was at his station at the top of Highway 9, so for a dollar I downed a coke before continuing on. I’ve ridden Skyline from Highway 9 to Page Mill dozens of times, and yet it still surprises me how quickly that stretch of road goes by. It doesn’t feel that quick, but a check of the computer confirms it’s just 20 minutes.

Normally, I’d head on Skyline all the way north to Sky Londa and down 84, but that wouldn’t have given me enough miles or climbing, and while it was tempting, I stuck to the plan. Because that’s what I do on a ride. Glad I did too, because if I hadn’t headed down West Alpine to LaHonda, I never would have seen the Bobcat casually walking across the road in front of me. I’ve seen Bobcats just a couple times before when riding, and they’ve always looked like a fast-moving round ball of fur. Not this time. Pretty cool.

As usual, I was thankful for the fact that I started feeling better as the ride went on, and found the final climb back up to Skyline pretty easy. It’s not as much fun riding alone as it is with other people, but it’s a whole lot better than not riding at all! Oh, getting back to the title of this post, when I left the house about 12:30, I said I’d be back around 5:30. I walked in the door at 5:31. Seems like the last umpteen rides I’ve done, with or without my son, I’ve made it back within minutes of when I told my wife I’d be back. 30 or 110 mile ride. Weird.

Cars vs Bikes vs Cops

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Saturday, August 28th, the County Sheriff’s department ticketed approximately 25 cyclists for not properly proceeding through the intersection at Canada & Woodside Roads. It’s difficult to figure out exactly what transpired, but it sounds like a group of about 40 cyclists came to the intersection, the front of the group stopped until it was safe to ride through, and the rest followed. Tickets were issued because it’s illegal for a group of vehicles to do anything other than stop individually before going through a stop sign.

The story was reported in the Country Almanac and created a huge response. You can read the article and responses here. Below is my addtion to the fray.

So on my regular Tuesday/Thursday morning ride, I stopped and spoke with a Sheriff’s Deputy at Sky Londa where they were ticketing people who were traveling north on Skyline and making the right turn onto 84. Our group of cyclists (5) all came to a stop (without putting our feet down) before proceeding through, and while the others continued down the hill, I stayed behind and had a conversation with the officer. He’d heard but not read about the now-infamous incident in Woodside that’s generating all this buzz. I filled him in a bit on it, and asked him a few specific questions.
 
Most interesting was that he couldn’t see any reason, ever, to ticket 2, 3, 4 or 5 cyclists who all rode up to the limit line, stopped (which *he* said didn’t mean putting a foot down) and proceeded through together. He doesn’t even believe there’s a law that would support ticketing in such a situation (but I explained to him that there are interpretations otherwise). Note that this is different from the concept of a “train” of cyclists, where a large group moves through an intersection, figuring that as long as they’re following closely behind someone else, they’re fine.
 
I’m thinking, and the officer seemed to be thinking, that people are making a big deal out of the wrong thing here. There are plenty of examples of really bad behaviour on the road, but was this really one of them? Or was it just a final-straw sort of thing?
I strongly believe that cyclists should behave better out on the roads, but I just as strongly resent the idea that we should “stick to where we live” etc. In the communities many of us live, we have to put up with Ikeas and strip malls and all sorts of evils related to high-density zoning… things that Woodside would never allow, and yet Woodside residents rely on. We are not isolated communities; we are all inter-dependent, whether we want to admit to that or not.

 

Don't assume you're anonymous when you do stupid things driving a car. Cameras are everywhere.

People just don’t understand that we’re all connected, and need to look out for each other. On the return from my ride this morning, heading over the top of Jefferson, a car (seen in the photo) turned onto Jefferson right in front of me. It rolled right through the stop sign (this was at the side street adjacent to the new fire station), at a speed at least as high as what you might see a “bad” cyclist do. I was in plain sight. Did they not see me? Or simply expect that I wouldn’t mind? And yes, I deliberately blurred the license plate in the photo.