Route change, need to avoid Skyline for a few days

Hate getting up when it’s completely-black outside; daylight saving time comes to an end soon, and with it, a bit more sun in the mornings. That’s a good thing. Not-so-good is that test rides at the shop will have to end around 4:30 pretty soon. Hard to believe it wasn’t that long ago we could ride until 9pm!

By the time we got ready to head out, the dark had turned to gray fog, which stayed with us until about a third of the way up Kings. Fog a shade of gray that changes only with altitude, not with the rising sun. Some days we climb more quickly out of the fog than others; today wasn’t particularly fast or slow, with Kevin’s group finishing just a minute ahead of me (27 vs 28 minutes). This time of year, I can live with 28 minutes.

Eric, John, Mark, Todd, George, Kevin (not the pilot) and first-timer Chris on the climb today. With the work being done on Skyline this week (chipsealing pretty much its entire length) we had planned to do one of the dead-end roads, probably Native Sons, and were heading towards it down Tunitas when George got a flat, taking us off schedule and forcing us to turn back at Swett & Star Hill, about 9 miles short of our typical distance. Skyline had simply not been an option though; chip-sealed roads destroy bikes, in a very literal sense (you pick up a piece of gravel that gets stuck to the chain and in the instant that your drivetrain comes to a halt you can tear your rear derailleur right out of the frame, as happened to one of our customers this past Saturday).

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When did 47 miles become so hard?

Los Lobitos Creek, the nasty part seen just to the right of Kevin

It shouldn’t have been that tough a ride; instead of the usual (Pescadero/Tunitas loop) Kevin and I rode straight out to San Gregorio, north to Los Lobitos and then back up Tunitas. Only 47 miles, what’s the big deal? Of course Kevin flew up Old LaHonda, probably 4 minutes ahead of me; pretty used to that by now. Maybe what made the ride so tough was the run to the coast, into a headwind, from LaHonda to San Gregorio, with our pace set high enough to keep three guys we spotted behind from catching us. Amazing what motivation that can give you!

Beautiful day everywhere except the coast itself, which was quite a bit cooler and foggy. As soon as we made the turn inland the fog was gone, maybe just a bit too soon… the part of Los Lobitos shown in the photo, on the opposite side of the valley Kevin’s presently seen riding, is nasty. Steep, barren and just not a whole lot of fun.

Tunitas? Nice thing about doing Tunitas this way is that you don’t have a time to shoot for, since you’re connecting to Tunitas well inland. Still, Tunitas is never easy, and this was no exception. At least not until the upper, flatter section, where we spent a bit of time talking with Robert, an old friend we caught up with.

Statistics? I’d have accurate stats except that my Garmin lost track of the satellites mid-way up Tunitas, so it’s drawn a long, straight line about 10 miles long, and skipped a bunch of elevation. Rare for it to mess up like that. But my trusty Trek Node 2 told me it was 47 miles and 15mph average speed (ok, 14.9 actually).

TdF 2013 Trip Planning

The 2013 TdF route poses some interesting challenges for someone who would like to see the final mountain stages and finish. Not that we know of anyone who’s made a habit over the years of doing exactly that! First step is to visualize things, which I’ve done here, using information from the official LeTour.fr website.

SUNDAY, JULY 14TH – STAGE 15 242km Givors / Mont Ventoux

TUESDAY, JULY 16TH – STAGE 16 168km  Vaison-la-Romaine / Gap
WEDNESDAY, JULY 17TH – STAGE 17 32km  Embrun / Chorges

THURSDAY, JULY 18TH – STAGE 18 168km Gap / Alpe-d’Huez

FRIDAY, JULY 19TH – STAGE 19 204km Bourg-d’Oisans / Le Grand-Bornand

SATURDAY, JULY 20TH – STAGE 20 125km Annecy / Annecy – Semnoz

SUNDAY, JULY 21ST – STAGE 21 118km Versailles / Paris Champs-Élysées

The Rules for Road Cyclists

Road Rules for Cyclists- http://www.velominati.com/the-rules/

Some pretty funny stuff in there. A lot of it is actually serious stuff to pay attention to, some of is silly, and just a couple things I’d disagree with. I’d tone down the language slightly if I were writing it, so if you’ve got a G-rated household, you should probably avoid it (I’d rate it PG-13).

It wasn’t supposed to rain

There was no rain in the weather forecast when I went to bed last night. None. Zero. Zip. Nada. So what do I wake up to? Rain. OK, heavy drizzle, but certainly nothing that’s going to dry up in the next 35 minutes and let me ride my “nice” bike. Plus the “leisurely” 35 minutes I allow between the alarm going off and getting out the door suddenly becomes not-so-leisurely as you have to get all your wet-weather gear on. Motivation for doing things more-quickly seems dulled by the realization you’re going to have a tougher time out there because you’re riding a bike with slower tires, fenders, and an accumulation of crud from the past few rain rides.

But the icing on the cake? The rain bike (my Trek 5900) has a flat tire. Discovered at 7:28am. Need to be out the door by 7:32am to get to the start in time. Still got a few other things to do… this isn’t going to work out. So I grab the Bike Friday Pocket Rocket instead and head out the garage, with Kevin, at 7:38 I think. This was one of those “We’re not going to make it, are we?” moments. On our “nice” bikes it’s an 8 to 9 minute ride to the start. On dry roads. Figure 11 minutes on rain bikes in the muck. 10 if you push it. The ride leaves promptly at 7:45am. We arrive promptly… at 7:48. Nobody’s there (they shouldn’t be, they know the rules!) but was anybody there? We look for tire tracks, but it’s inconclusive. On Albion I’m pretty sure I see recent tracks though. No way to catch whomever might be ahead of us, so instead we ride up through the midpoint and backward on the route, from Sky Londa to Kings, hoping to catch them in the other direction. It worked; we came across John and Eric descending towards Sky Londa, just slightly behind schedule.

Because my Bike Friday doesn’t have fenders I rode in the back; in general, riding when it’s wet, without fenders, isn’t allowed on this ride. It’s just not nice to have water spraying up at everyone else, but of course I’m a professional rider on a closed course. Not! I’ll look into some fenders for my Bike Friday; hadn’t give it any thought up to now, but it’s actually a very capable rain bike. The small tires didn’t have an issue on the tar stripes, and the brakes worked better than expected.

In the end the ride was only 29 miles total, not 30.4, but that’s a lot better than not riding at all. And it gave us a chance to figure out what needs to be done to reintroduce ourselves to real winter riding, when it’s a lot colder than 44 degrees. Need to remember things like wearing a hat under the helmet (allows you to keep the rain out of your eyes by simply tilting your head down a bit) and which gloves work best when soaked (none of them).

44 degrees but still a great day to ride

The iPhone’s panorama function almost does justice to West-side Old LaHonda. Too bad you can’t take such pictures while riding. Maybe Todd could, doing a trackstand.


Did everybody get scared off by the rain? Just me, Kevin and Mark today. No rain, just damp pavement and gradually-clearing skies… nice enough to bring our regular bikes, although we did check the rain bikes last night to make sure they were good to go. Kevin and Mark rode on up ahead, doing a relatively-easy ride at 26-something for the climb. Me? About 2 minutes back, out of sight before even halfway up the hill.

Long-range weather forecast says no rain on my ride days, with Sunday showing a very-pleasant 73 degrees… and rain curiously scheduled for consecutive Wednesdays. I can deal with that. Bring it on, but only on Wednesdays. Once it becomes a sure thing I’ll even alter staffing at the shops for presumed fewer customers on wet Wednesdays. I like it. Leave the weekends nice & dry, and have that one not-nice day to make you appreciate the great days. Works for me!

Windy solo ride to Candlestick

Thought it would be fun to ride to Candlestick and take photos of the ‘cross races, and definitely wasn’t planning a solo ride, but Kevin had other ideas, after bumping his head yesterday and complaining that it hurt to put on a helmet. So, I’m off alone, into some pretty nasty winds today, taking the “high” road up (Canada, Skyline, Sawyer Camp Trail) and returning via the bike paths along the bay.

The “high” road is definitely preferable if you would rather not lose your way a few times!

In the end, about 65 miles and 2000ft of climbing (virtually flat as far as my rides go!).

Nice day for a bike ride!

Assembly-line flat fixing? Kinda looks that way!

Most people flying back late at night, getting home past midnight, wouldn’t think about getting up early the next morning (actually the same morning!) for a bike ride, but I’m not most people, and there’s really nothing quite as rejuvenating as a bike ride. Especially with temps warm enough you don’t have to worry about leg warmers or base layers, something that may change next week when they’ve put rain into the forecast. Rain? What’s that?

Kevin, Kevin, Eric, John, new guy named Mike and Zack today; not quite the group of 11 on Tuesday, when I was off pretending I could make a difference for bike dealers at meetings in Austin, but maybe this was quality vs Tuesday being quantity? Since it was Thursday we rode up through the park, but started a bit late when Kevin (the pilot) promptly got a flat tire. No records, but anytime I can get to the top through the park, in something under 29 minutes, I’m good.

My Lance Journey

It was interesting being at ground zero; Austin Texas, home to Lance Armstrong and his shop, Mellow Johnny’s. I was there the day it all came crashing down.

Lance in 2002 TdF

I wasn’t in Austin for anything having to do with Lance; the National Bicycle Dealer Association had scheduled their forward-thinking “retreat” for Austin about 9 months ago, a time when, I’ll have to think back about this, probably not long after the initial Federal investigation into Lance had been killed, and many were thinking the background noise, even while gradually growing louder, was never going to reach the level where it was clear to one & all that Lance Armstrong had doped during his Tour de France years.

The end game: It was a piece in Cyclingnews on Tuesday, Oct 17, 2012, the day before the end, that I finally knew it was a matter of days, if not hours. I was reading a news story about the notorious Italian Doctor Michele Ferrari, who had once famously equated the doping agent EPO with orange juice in terms of safety and, by implication, routine administration, that triggered that feeling. In that article, Ferrari had presented an almost-plausible story explaining the large payments Lance had continued to make to him, long after Lance denied any association with him, and I believe after the Italian cycling federation equated any contact with him as immediate grounds for suspension. He told us those were “delayed” payments from “consulting” work he’d done for Lance earlier. The large number of Lance’s fellow team mates who had come forward to testify against him? That was “visual testimony” not to be trusted. After all, Lance had passed over 500 doping tests, failing none.

The moment of clarity. Reading that, yes, there was a ring of truth to what he claimed. It could happen. Just as Lance and others had said previously. A bunch of malcontents who had been maneuvered into a corner by prosecutors using tactics more distasteful than we’d subject an Al Qaeda suspect to, giving up Lance, whether true or not, in order to receive short suspensions that would allow them to get back to their own lives again. Screw over Lance because Lance was a nasty, vindictive guy who only cared about winning. Sure, maybe. That was my moment of clarity, a clarity caused when the abundance of truth finally approached the same critical mass as the abundance of lies and there wasn’t room in the world for both.

Let’s go back just a bit, to those “short” suspensions. Anyone reading the text of what Levi Leipheimer had to sign, the details in that text, will recognize that it’s not a 6-months & out scenario. Levi, in addition to losing all placings and records he earned over a 6 year period, would also, to be made whole again in the eyes of those in charge of cycling, have to pay back all his winnings during that same time period. An amount that could be substantial and well beyond his ability to pay. I don’t think Levi would agree to his own death sentence in cycling just to get back at Lance.

George Hincapie and Freddie Rodriguez in Avignon, 2000 TdF

George Hincapie just another doper, not the hoped-for irrefutable witness. As things became increasingly muddy, many of us said George Hincapie was the only universally-believable witness. Rumors had come out that George had spoken with the various investigators, but George remained silent. We depended on George because he seemed like the one person who would tell the truth, or go to his grave saying nothing, but we did not expect him to lie. And if George, very good friend of Lance, threw Lance under the bus, that was it, game over. Only we never had the extreme clarity of that hoped-for scenario, because George got lumped in with the rest of the “conspirators” (against Lance) and people who should have known better, who did know better, thought George, too, had been manipulated.

But I never saw anything directed at George from Lance or his lawyers. I think it’s possible that was a line that even they would not cross. Still, it was strange to see, in the end, that George was a non-issue. I really thought he would end up being the key player and not just one of the 11 or 13 or however large the group of cyclists, past & present, who had testified against Lance.

When did I believe Lance was lying? I’m not naive, and, knowing full well that most of the peloton was doped during Lance’s TdF reign, seriously questioned whether it was possible to win, clean, against those taking performance enhancing drugs, in a game where the outcome was often decided by mere seconds out of hours on the bike. But his denials while racing were credible, and his detractors, frankly, did a very poor job of trying to make their cases. They let their convictions get ahead of their facts, likely impatient with the complete lack of physical evidence.

That continued throughout, increasing even in later years as the era of Floyd Landis intensified the scrutiny, especially after his wild stories about doping within Lance’s team, some of which were true, but so many that weren’t that it was easy to discredit him (Floyd) as a serial liar. Which he remains, to this day (and yes, I do have an axe to grind with Floyd because I was taken in by him early on, even contributing to the now-infamous Floyd Fairness Fund, obviously a nefarious plot to discover the gullible and most-stupid in our society). I’ve previously documented three times I was at team encampments, twice during the Tour de France, once in Santa Barbara, at which I was able to get up close & personal with the team’s bikes and verify that Floyd was riding the exact same equipment as everyone else, not 3rd-rate hand-me-downs as he alleged in a Sports Illustrated interview.

The never-ending web of lies led me astray. It was a world I wasn’t used to, and the inconsistency of the lies vs the firm consistency of Lance’s claims that he did not dope, daring anyone with greater intelligence than a gnat to explain how he could have (doped) and yet passed all those drug tests… it was a world that I did not have what I needed to say, beyond a reasonable doubt, that Lance was innocent or guilty. I suspected guilt, but the lies and mis-steps of his accusers, and the cheerleading nature of those both for & against, created a need for me to step outside, to dispassionately observe the proceeding and take more interest in the process itself than anything else. Could I ever be convinced? I hoped so. I was really hoping someone would find a smoking gun, maybe a syringe with traces of EPO and Lance’s DNA, or a cell phone photo of doping products in a ‘fridge. There had to be something! How could there not be, with so many people involved? A question that remains unanswered.

But finally, that moment of clarity, as I read Doctor Ferrari’s (presumably final) absurd protestations. Prior to that, didn’t have what I needed if I had to try and convince one of Lance’s cheerleaders, just as I hadn’t previously had what I needed to convince a Lance hater that he was clean. On Tuesday, October 23rd, the tipping point was reached.

Floyd Landis exiting the Champs Elysees. Just like Forest Gump, I was there.

What does that do to my past? Not much. I’d already protected myself years ago, moving to that “safe” place where, as I said, I’d become dispassionate about it emotionally. Perhaps preparing myself for the eventual outcome (although never thinking it would take anything close to this many years to get there; it was going to be much sooner, or never, in my mind). I enjoyed watching the TdF the 6 times I was there during the Lance years, but no more than I have in the 4 or 5 times since. If there was a low point, it was the year Floyd won; that was the ‘Tour they ripped away from me, personally. Going from such an incredible high, having snuck through security at the end of the race and greeting Floyd just as he exited the Champ Elysees, celebrating with new friends I’d made, I left Paris on a very high note, only to come crashing down just a couple of days later when they announced Floyd failed a drug test. True or not didn’t matter; just the accusation was an injury to what I’d experienced. I’m sure it was the immediacy that made the difference; it’s been ages since I last saw Lance win at the TdF, and his humbling experience during his “comeback” made him human in a way that somehow bought credibility for his non-doping claims.

In the end I’m left with great memories of trips to a new world (France), discovering new friends, and grateful that I could be so completely out of my element and not only survive, but thrive. None of that would have happened if not for Lance; I seriously doubt I would have ever visited the Tour de France if not for getting caught up in the “fever” at just the right time. But I’ve also got to be sensitive to a large number of people, many of them customers, some of them very good friends, who feel that Lance has done a terrible injustice to the world, that he’s bullied people into doing things they otherwise wouldn’t have done, that he’s kept some from their dreams, and some would say defrauded the cancer community that reached out to him as much as he to them.

A swirling cesspool of evils and excesses. They’re right; he did all those things, but the very worst thing is that he brought out the very worst in others. Those who supported him, those who railed against him. A swirling cesspool of our evils and excesses that will not stop with his passing, because despite what some may claim, this was never about cleaning up cycling, this was about getting Lance. A task that had to be done, but it was done in a way that will maintain the “Omerta”, the secrets of the 80% or more of the racing peloton that was likely doping but have not been called up, nor given an opportunity for reconciliation.  Without that, this is not behind us. I fear this could be Festina, the massive doping scandal of 1998, all over again. The war to end all wars has laid in place the framework for the next.

The doping problem remains. They haven’t fixed the doping issue, and I doubt they will. The governing bodies need to offer a nearly-unconditional amnesty & reconciliation offer to get everyone to come forward. We cannot expect a pack that’s riddled with riders who have doped in the past, and continue to hide from that past, living a lie, to not find it easy to go back to the old ways. There are too many of them to think we could ever have the resources to go after each and every one and convict them for their crimes. But the evidence shows there’s little chance of an amnesty, especially when you read what they did to Levi. Nobody in his right mind would come forward, voluntarily, after that.

So yes, we’ve dealt with the Lance issue, but we have not dealt with doping in Cycling. Anyone who believes otherwise, anyone who thinks that doping was dependent or even centered upon Lance, is fooling themselves. Lance lost, but clean cycling has not won.

We’ve taken down Lance. The pictures I’ve taken, on the walls of our stores, will likely soon be gone. I’ll probably need to take down the photo I like best, from my first trip to France (a dealer trip organized by Trek), that of George Hincapie and Freddie Rodriguez enjoying a casual pre-race moment on a park bench in Avignon. Because for some of my customers, they’d question why they were up. They’d want to read something more into it than exists, or they simply find it too painful to look at, just as my wife would turn away from any story on animal abuse because it offends her sensibilities so strongly. But my many pages of diary entries from France and the hundreds of photos I took will remain on the website, where Google will help remind the world that I was there and probably wrote some things about Lance that in retrospect will look foolish at best and who-knows-what at worst. Whether “enhanced” by performance enhancing drugs or not, bicycle racing remains an amazingly-engaging spectacle that isn’t entirely diminished by not being “pure.” I agree that it needs to be cleaned up, no question, but while the past may require an asterisk, it doesn’t demand eradication from history.

–Mike–