We ride in the rain so you don’t have to

Not quite sure how it works, but the general idea is that there will be, no matter what, a certain number of us who are going to be out there riding on days no sane person would want to, and because we’re out there, you don’t have to be. You can stay inside where it’s nice & warm and think about what sort of crazy person rides a bicycle in the elements, and you even get to feel superior about it. That’s ok. Those of us in the “no matter what” crowd understand that we’re not normal.

Truthfully it wasn’t that bad this morning. Drizzling at the start, but mostly just very wet roads and a bit of that riding-in-the-clouds thing going on. Marcus, Kevin (the pilot), other Kevin, Eric… I think that’s it. As was the case Tuesday I was feeling better than my son on Kings, who was blaming it on being uncomfortable on his bike because he was on his rain bike rather than his newer Trek Madone, and it’s not set up quite the same. In fact, he rode that bike exactly the way it is now for quite some time, and was fine when he didn’t know any better. But when we got the new bike I set it up the way it should be, which meant less aggressively… mostly a higher handlebar position… which he now understands is what he should have, regardless of the fact that it doesn’t look like how racers set up their bikes.

Now remember that part about feeling better than my son on Kings? By the time we got to west-side Old LaHonda the tables had turned, and it was me having trouble keeping on his wheel. Hate it when that happens. In general, it’s the older guys who get stronger later in the ride, while the younger folk, if they don’t feel great early in the ride, never recover (mentally) from that.

Fortunately, the long-range forecast says that was the last of the rain. Unfortunately, I won’t have as much time to ride, because we’ll be open this Sunday (when we’d normally put in a 60-100 mile ride), and the following Sunday is Christmas, and I doubt we’ll get out then. But that still leaves several Tuesday & Thursday-morning rides before the big event, the annual New Year’s Day ride up Mount Hamilton.

The all-purpose (challenging) winter ride


One ride that has it all-

  • Steep climbs!
  • Fast descents!
  • City limit sprints!
  • Great views!
  • Awesome food!
  • Friendly people along the way!
  • And today, great weather!

Well OK, it didn’t have tailwinds all the way, and in fact I recall headwinds but no tailwinds at all. Not that I’d admit to them if they were there. But if you want a near-perfect 100k ride out of Woodside that’s challenging & fun and even allows for a shortcut if you get in over your head, this is it. But please note the word “challenging” in the description, because this ride has its share of climbing.

Steep climbs? Parts of Old LaHonda & Haskins (from the west side) qualify, but more assuredly West Alpine. Fast descent? Haskins & 84. City limit sprints? This has the classics- San Gregorio, Pescadero & Loma Mar. Great views? They’re endless on this ride. The views of the Pacific from west-side Old LaHonda & Stage Road, the valley leading into San Gregorio, the creek along Pescadero Road, and the sweeping vistas on West Alpine and Skyline. Food? Pescadero’s famous bakeries. Ollalieberry scone & turnover for me today, from a place that loves cyclists (unlike the San Gregorio General Store, where we’re tolerated but not too welcome). Friendly people? Lots of cyclists out on the roads today, including one guy who flagged us down on Skyline… flat tire, no tube, no pump, and said we were the first cyclists in an hour and a half to come through (this was at the vista point just north of Page Mill).

And, as is so often the case this time of year, nicer weather on the coast side than near the bay.

It’s certainly not as difficult as the Santa Cruz loops we’ve been doing so many of lately, but rather a ride that might be described as challenging but fun. Today, perhaps a bit more challenging than it should have been, as I’m getting over a nasty cold and got to watch Kevin ditch me on Old LaHonda. But later I got him on Haskins, and West Alpine saw us evenly matched.

We want YOU! Join the (free) Strava Chain Reaction Team!


If you’ve got a Garmin bike computer, or a GPS-enabled phone (many Androids and iPhone 3GS, 4 & 4S models), you can easily keep track of your rides on-line, for free! And who knows when we might offer special discounts and events just for members of our Chain Reaction Team Strava. We just started, and we’re needing some help because I was gone for 10 days this month (and my son got lazy while I was gone and didn’t log any rides either).

If you haven’t joined Strava, try it out. Like I said, it’s free (you can pay $59/year for advanced stuff if you want, but the free version does pretty amazing stuff), and you can sign up here. Once you’re a member, follow this link and join our team! No obligation, nothing to buy. :-)      –Mike–

Someone asked “How do you motivate yourself to get out and ride during the winter months?”

Motivation? Don’t look for motivation. Just do it! If you’ve decided to be a rain-or-shine kind of cyclist, then you find yourself actually looking forward to “epic” winter rides. Make sure you’ve got a separate rain/utility bike, with wider tires (it’s not about speed, it’s about not slipping on paint stripes or getting flats) and possibly a bit more relaxed riding position (because if you’re heavily bundled up you might not feel comfortable in your normal riding position).

It’s quite the challenge for my group, because our Tuesday/Thursday-morning training ride includes 3300ft of climbing and, of course, 3300ft of descending. What you learn is that it’s very important to keep up a consistent pace because if you relax the cold and wet will get to you very quickly. Dress in a way that you’ll remain warm even if soaking, because there’s no truly waterproof cycling stuff out there. The high-tech stuff (including GoreTex) won’t keep up with a cyclist at high output… you end up as soaked on the inside as things are on the outside.

You could, of course, just set up a trainer in front of a TV and watch your favorite races, but there’s a small number of us who would rather ride through a hurricane than sit on a trainer. Mental defect of some sort. Or just a refusal to believe that anything can stop you and your bicycle. Do keep in mind that I’m in Northern California so the worst winter will throw at me are a few 40 degree days with driving rain, or upper-20s but dry, or once in a while, snow at the higher parts of our ride. We also rarely see ice, because it’s typically dry when it’s that cold. –Mike–

A ride we’re glad we did, scratched off the list, but no need to do again soon (Mt Hamilton loop)

I’m 55 years old, been riding seriously since I was, what, 11? And in all that time I’ve never ridden the Mount Hamilton loop. Between 97 & 105 miles depending upon route options, and heads from Livermore (or elsewhere; obviously you can start wherever you wish), over Calaveras and down towards the bay, then up Mount Hamilton, down the other side & finally north on Mines Road. to Livermore.

I’ve ridden up Mount Hamilton many, many times, and sometimes down the back side to the bridge over the creek and then head back up. And I’ve ridden Calaveras and every other piece of this ride at one time or another. I’ve even ridden over Mount Hamilton and on to Livermore, in the Mount Hamilton Road Race, but that was many, many, many years ago. Long enough that I retained dim memories of the backside not being much fun.

Today, Kevin and I decided to test those memories. Besides, as I’ve written before, Kevin likes to try new rides, something that becomes increasingly difficult over time. His first choice was to head to the Sierras and do Sonora Pass, but it’s been busy enough at the shop on Saturdays that I really haven’t felt like a long drive in the dark after work.

We started the ride in Livermore instead of someplace a bit closer because I was concerned about having to continue riding much further after Mines Road. I remembered the main reason I didn’t enjoy the backside- that long run down the valley towards Livermore, punctuated here & there by annoying “junk” climbs (not long enough to really get a rhythm yet incredibly efficient at sapping your strength and making you feel like you’ve spent too much time out in the sun) but, worst of all, steady headwinds that make you fight your way downhill.

The first 25 miles or so went by easily enough, but it did feel a bit weird hitting the base of Mount Hamilton nicely warmed up rather than at the very start of a ride. We stopped at the top for the mandatory coke (remember, crisp $1 bills only, anything soggy from a back pocket won’t work) before heading down the back side.

If you haven’t been down the back (east) side of Mount Hamilton, it’s just like the front (west) side, only a lot steeper. So very bumpy, gravel here & there, and not really a very fun descent. But the climb back up is both challenging and fun, making the descent worthwhile to try someday. But we weren’t coming back up; our car was in Livermore and Mines Road was standing in our way.

The small rises between the bottom on the east side and San Antonio Junction weren’t as bad as I had remembered, but still, by the time we got to the Junction, it felt like we had already put in a tough 100 miles, not 65, and we had another 30 to go. But fueled up with a cookie and coke from the Junction bar, we felt ready to go!

Or not. That last 30 miles was one of the toughest of my life, battling the two remaining (and significant) climbs along with the headwind. Kevin was pretty much cooked by the time we finished the final climb, so it was my job for about 22 miles to just go to the front and fight the wind all the way back to the car. Ouch. The first dozen miles were the worst, because they paint mile markers in huge numbers on the road, and between 22 and 10, it felt pretty discouraging. Somehow I kept it up though, towing Kevin back to the car, both of us more exhausted than anytime in recent memory.

My recommendation? Do this loop if you want a challenge, but if you’re looking for “fun” look someplace else. Or find out what time of year you have tailwinds heading towards Livermore rather than headwinds.

It’s what I do & who I am

The Tuesday/Thursday-morning ride on the lower section of west-side Old LaHonda

How do we define ourselves? Is it the things we’ve accumulated over the years? Our education? How much we weigh, whether our hair has turned gray (if it’s there at all), having to wear reading glasses… ok, this is heading more towards defining our age. I think that’s a guy thing, or at least guys spend a lot of time talking about getting older. If women do spend time talking about this stuff, it’s not around guys. Getting back to the subject…

I ride bikes. That, aside from family stuff, is really what defines me. Sure, my brother and I own a pair of bike shops, and I’ve had to become much more savvy as a business person over the years to keep things afloat in a world that has increasingly less room for error. But if I were suddenly transported into another culture, an alien planet, or maybe Arkansas, it would ultimately be my cycling that defined me.

Today’s definition included the usual Tuesday ride up Kings, stopping for a few minutes halfway up while Kevin (my son, not the pilot) had a seizure (which happens more often than not lately), followed by an enjoyable dash across Skyline, descent on 84 towards the coast for a few miles, then the always-pretty ride up west-side Old LaHonda before diving back down into Woodside.

I wasn’t feeling great for the first part of the ride; something about 53 degrees showing on the bike computer that explained why my lungs were working worse than usual, but finished fairly strong, including the final sprint at Albion, contested primarily by Kevin (my son, not the pilot) who surprised me by flying past early. Thankfully too early, because I was able to come up to his rear wheel for a moment or two, giving me just enough draft to slingshot past at the line. It was close. Too close. But a win is a win. I’m not dead yet.

I am a cyclist. It’s what I do & who I am.  –Mike–

 

Skyline between Page Mill & Hwy 9- why so much tougher heading south?

One of these days my son is going to finally realize that his perpetual challenge, expecting me to constantly come up with a ride he hasn’t done before, isn’t such a great idea. You see, there are traditional rides often repeated, for good reason. They’re fun, they’re challenging in a rewarding way, and they’re easily described to others because they’re well-known. For example, if you tell someone you did the Pescadero/Tunitas loop, everyone knows that’s shorthand for Old LaHonda, La Honda, over Haskins Grade to Pescadero, Stage Road to Tunitas and back over the hill and down Kings back into Woodside. A great ride.

But we couldn’t do anything categorized as “the usual.” I have to come up with new twists constantly, at least until I run out of odd permutations. Today was no exception.

The Yellow Jackets weren't giving Kevin much chance to eat his pastry in Pescadero

It started out like a pretty normal ride, heading from Woodside up over Old LaHonda, out to San Gregorio and then Stage Road to Pescadero. Then up over the “harder” side of Haskins Grade, and up the always-challenging West Alpine. OK, so far, tough, but nothing out of the ordinary. On Skyline, you’re expected to head North. Why? Because for some reason heading south on Skyline, especially between Page Mill/West Alpine and Highway 9, is infinitely-tougher than doing the same stretch in the opposite direction. Why? The Highway 9 end is only a few hundred feet higher, and heading north, you fly through those 6 or 7 miles. But it’s a whole different story heading south.

Along the way we came across Katherine, out for a 91(.1?) mile ride to commemorate 9/11

West Alpine's "Bridge of Death"

Once at Saratoga Gap (Skyline & 9) we descended to Redwood Gulch and then plummeted (seriously; Redwood Gulch is incredibly-steep) to Stevens Creek. From there it was a long & largely-flat run back north on Foothill, then back into Woodside via Sand Hill.

Kevin got his best time yet on Old LaHonda (21:45) and rode strongly again on the West Alpine climb (famous for its

It's tough to beat an ice-cold Mtn Dew on a tough ride!

“Bridge of Death” shown in the photo, marking the start of the climb), at 44:36. But once on Skyline, heading south, it was another story. Consider Kevin one more person done in by that should-be-easy but merciless piece of road. He was incredibly happy to pull into the fire station where the machine was happy to take his dollar bill in exchange for a Mtn Dew.

The long haul back on the valley floor wasn’t much fun for him which, again, was something I figured would be the case. One of these days he’ll figure it out. The regular loops, the usual rides… there’s good reason for them being “regular” and “usual.”

Marcus- nice guy or cruel sadist?

I had expectations of a kinder, gentler ride this morning. Why not? It was Thursday (and Thursday rides are supposed to be easier-paced than Tuesdays), Kevin (my son, not the pilot) was home with a cold, and at the start of the ride, it’s just me, Eric, Karl & Mike, picking up Marcus along the way and Millo further up the hill. The dynamics of the group are such that Marcus and either Karl or Mike might key off each other and bolt up the hill, so I did have some understandable fear & trepidation.

Since it’s a Thursday we did the through-the-park option, delayed slightly by the bottom gate being closed, requiring a dismount & squeeze (not for everyone though; don’t remember, might have been Marcus that deftly squeezed through the narrow spot to the right of the gate without getting off his bike). It was a moderate pace to the upper park entrance, just a few seconds over 10 minutes (by contrast, it takes 7:45-9:00 minutes the “normal” way). We quickly regrouped and were off again, this time with me sitting on Marcus’s wheel. Why? Good question. Partly defensive; if I’m on his wheel, someone faster isn’t, so there’s less incentive for him to really push the pace. Nevertheless we gradually pulled away, with me wondering how long I could hang with him before blowing up.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, Marcus rides very smoothly, and if he’s not trying to ditch you, and notices you’re falling off a bit, he doesn’t just sit up and wait, but instead slows down just a bit, allowing you to claw your way back up to him at your own speed. You could say he’s allowing you to perfect your Levi skills (Levi Leipheimer is known for getting dropped during hard accelerations on steep grades, but instead of becoming discouraged or working too hard and blowing up, he grinds away at a sustainable pace and catches up to those who dropped him. This works because the hard accelerations that allowed the other guys to drop him also put them into their reserves so deeply that they have to slow down and recover).

In the end my time was 28:16, which if I extrapolate for the normal route up the hill, would have been a darned good time. Could not have happened without Marcus (and the new, lighter me probably helps a bit too). –Mike–

A good long climb and you’ll feel better

The lower parts of Highway 9 are not entirely without charm

It sounded a bit odd as I said it, and yet it made complete sense. Kevin and I were at mile 65 or so of our 114-mile round trip to Santa Cruz, on the least-fun part through the San Lorenzo Valley, battling lots of traffic, a not-very-wide road and little junk climbs that just wear you down. Basically, a ride without rhythm. Once you get a few miles past Boulder Creek you finally get to the good stuff, the long climb up Highway 9, first to Waterman Gap and then on to Skyline. About 10 miles of relatively-serious climbing and dramatically less traffic than the valley floor.

  Continue reading

Subject: RE: Article on bicycle seats from NY Times

The easy thing would be to ignore the various fear-mongering publicity-hounding press-release-and-book-writing crowd that wants to create waves by claiming that riding a bike is bad for guys. But of course, I can’t. This is a subject that gets me pretty annoyed, because is almost-always mistakes the bicycle seat as the problem (which in some cases it might be) and ignores the issue of proper fit to the bicycle, of which the saddle is, in fact, a subset… but more the location of the saddle, as well as handlebars and pedals. So below is my response when a very good customer sent me a link to the latest such story. –Mike–

> Hey, was curious if you’ve seen this, and what you think:
> http://www.nytimes.com/2011/06/28/science/28tier.html?_r=3&pag
ewanted=all
>

—–Original Message—–
From: Mike Jacoubowsky [mailto:MikeJ@ChainReaction.com]
Sent: Friday, August 26, 2011 10:32 PM
Subject: RE: Article on bicycle seats from NY Times

Before getting into this, the full text of the study may be found here-
https://www.moonsaddle.com/Articles.asp?ID=136

“When I tried a no-nose model for my 16-mile daily commute, it was so much more comfortable that I promptly threw away the old saddle. But over the years I’ve had zero success persuading any other cyclists to switch, even when I quote the painfully succinct warning from Steven Schrader, the reproductive physiologist at Niosh who did the experiment with police officers.”

I have serious doubts that many, if any of the people with “problems” in the article had been properly fit to a bike or, worse, wonder how many were riding super-soft saddles that pass the “thumb test” but create serious problems because they are so soft that your weight pushes down on the front and back, causing the center of the saddle to push up, exactly where you don’t want it to. That’s the reason that softer isn’t usually better; you require a certain amount of support to keep the saddle from contacting areas that shouldn’t be stressed.

If someone wants to prove that bike saddles of a particular type are better than others, they should first make sure that the “inferior” saddles are properly set up and the rider properly fit to their bike, and perhaps do a before & after test of that, before trumpeting the marketing claims of someone wanting to sell a new type of saddle that, on the face of it, looks like maybe it would address the problem (and has a marketing campaign based upon fear).

The author says himself “Even if you didn’t feel any symptoms, even if you didn’t believe the researchers’ warnings, even if you thought it was perfectly healthy to feel numb during a ride – why not switch just for comfort’s sake? Why go on crushing your crotch?” The “comfort” reference is key here. Why isn’t someone comfortable, while someone else is? It’s a lot more than just saddle design. And it’s going to be different for different people.

And mountain bikes are, by far, going to be the worst offenders for landing sensitive parts of the anatomy where they shouldn’t land, or pressured where they shouldn’t be pressured, because of the more-upright riding position (putting nearly all the weight on the rider’s tail end rather than distributing some of the weight forward). And yes, the issues are going to be worse for people who are out of shape and jumping curbs and plowing through potholes in urban environments. Not that I’d put any officers I’ve seen in that category.

“Before the study, nearly three-quarters of the officers complained of numbness while riding. After six months, fewer than one-fifth complained.”
Let’s see here. 75% complained of numbness while riding. 75%???!!! And they kept riding? I would be interested in knowing what percentage of them filed for disability of some sort. Not that I’m cynical or anything. And for the truly-cynical, we are talking guys here, and given the opportunity, is a guy going to want to brag that his sex life has improved or that it’s in the toilet?

So no, I don’t have an opinion at all. :-)

This is not to say that there aren’t people who would benefit from different saddle designs than the norm. But let’s see some studies that are more-intelligently done, and include the following-

#1: Study people with issues and improvement, or lack thereof, that occurs from nothing more than attention paid to their fit on the bike
#2: Take those who still had issues after being fit and see what happens with the miracle saddle change. Does that subset benefit as much as group 1?

There are definitely people with real issues that need to be addressed, but the lack of adequate controls for these studies is alarming and causes one to wonder if the tests were designed to support a belief rather than to test it. –Mike–