Oh, my legs thanked me today.
No chasing li'l Luc.
No pacelines or city limit sprints.
No epic HC cols.
Just a friendly, easy spin that finishes on the patio of Uptown Espresso.
Okay, Dirk forgot how to do the coffee ride for just a stretch on Price Canyon, but for the most part, it was exactly what it should be, slow, slow, slow.
Kinda makes me wonder why I don't ride that pace everyday?
Oh yeah, I'm sick in the head, and I'm obsessed about keeping the same pant size I've had for 20 years. Plus, it's just plain fun to go fast.
More climbing this weekend. 5100' dirt col. And beer. Copious amounts of beer out in the middle of nowhere while celebrating my friend getting oh so close to a half a century old. Leave the racing to the fools, for this weekend.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Fig Newton
Another day on the pro schedule. And I do mean the pro schedule. only about 30 minutes behind schedule. Reminds me of going for rides with Hubes. And I know that Lucas is feeling pro, cuz he lays on the product and goes lidless. I guess he is just getting ready for his Euro adventure next month.
Anyway, Ken and Lucas are feeling nostolgic, and decide to do a loop on the TOC time trial course, starting from Los Olivos. Certainly a twisty number riding into Solvang. Bit bumpy too. Those boys must have had fun on the speed machines.
Heading back up. Lucas gets in interval mode. Today, I'm a wheel sucker. No shame. My ego is in check, and I'm okay with it. So, Ken and I ride his little tail back up to Los Olivos.
Li'l Luc says he needs yet another effort before we head up. Sick in the head. We roll to Happy Canyon, and he gets all happy as Ken and I sit back and enjoy the ride, as much one can trying draft off a little climber. Again, reminds me of riding with Corndog. Lucas puts in a 5 mile interval just to warm up for the climb.
Alright, time to climb. As it turns out, we all did our own thing. Ken, well he is a sprinter, he knows his way to the top. Lucas is into some crazy climbing interval thang. Four minutes on cranking out a thick gear, then about 3 off. Me, I just want to hump it, so I go my own little way. My legs handled the whole thing fairly well considering the last two days of riding. Still, I needed the new and improved gearing. It's hard to tell if I was going up more efficiently then days gone by with stiffer gears, or if I simply needed the lower gears cuz I'm old. Old or not, I love this climb. Says something about my mental state, but it really is epic. You climb for miles and miles, come around a corner and see miles more. Most poeple would feel defeated. Me, I'm in awe. Climb on. But after about an hour, the fun is over. Oh well, all good things must come to and end. But, this time I did take pics.
So, I make it to the top, and wait for the interval fool and sprinter. The weather is great, and it is amazingly clear. Good stuff. Now it is time to go down. No off road excursions today. And, the descent really activates Lucas' product.
After passing by Mikey's Neverland no more ranch, I decide that we need to finish this ride off in style. Punch it while I got it. Plus, we passed by a market grilling meat as we left Los Olivos, and one thing I picked up while living in Texas is an appreciation for grilled meat, and my mind is focused on getting some of it in my belly. Five miles later, we are back in Los Olivos (A.K.A Honey let's get out of L.A. for the day). Ken and I can't be stopped from getting out of our chamios, but not Lucas. The boy is obsessed. One more time around the TOC TT course for him. Fool.
Well, Ken and I enjoy sum grub, and even a little ice cream, sitting outside soaking up some Calirific weather. Why did I ever leave this state? Who cares, I'm back. Unforntunately, my daze of back to back epic rides in the middle of the week are coming to an end, and I'll be back in the class room trying to get kids excited about regression coefficients, organizational theory, democratic theory, and a host of other things that only academics find interesting. But at least I'll have a tan, and some good memories of suffering with Kenny and Lucas.
Tomorrow, though, coffee ride. Ah, nice and easy. My legs will thank me.
Anyway, Ken and Lucas are feeling nostolgic, and decide to do a loop on the TOC time trial course, starting from Los Olivos. Certainly a twisty number riding into Solvang. Bit bumpy too. Those boys must have had fun on the speed machines.
Heading back up. Lucas gets in interval mode. Today, I'm a wheel sucker. No shame. My ego is in check, and I'm okay with it. So, Ken and I ride his little tail back up to Los Olivos.
Li'l Luc says he needs yet another effort before we head up. Sick in the head. We roll to Happy Canyon, and he gets all happy as Ken and I sit back and enjoy the ride, as much one can trying draft off a little climber. Again, reminds me of riding with Corndog. Lucas puts in a 5 mile interval just to warm up for the climb.
Alright, time to climb. As it turns out, we all did our own thing. Ken, well he is a sprinter, he knows his way to the top. Lucas is into some crazy climbing interval thang. Four minutes on cranking out a thick gear, then about 3 off. Me, I just want to hump it, so I go my own little way. My legs handled the whole thing fairly well considering the last two days of riding. Still, I needed the new and improved gearing. It's hard to tell if I was going up more efficiently then days gone by with stiffer gears, or if I simply needed the lower gears cuz I'm old. Old or not, I love this climb. Says something about my mental state, but it really is epic. You climb for miles and miles, come around a corner and see miles more. Most poeple would feel defeated. Me, I'm in awe. Climb on. But after about an hour, the fun is over. Oh well, all good things must come to and end. But, this time I did take pics.
So, I make it to the top, and wait for the interval fool and sprinter. The weather is great, and it is amazingly clear. Good stuff. Now it is time to go down. No off road excursions today. And, the descent really activates Lucas' product.
After passing by Mikey's Neverland no more ranch, I decide that we need to finish this ride off in style. Punch it while I got it. Plus, we passed by a market grilling meat as we left Los Olivos, and one thing I picked up while living in Texas is an appreciation for grilled meat, and my mind is focused on getting some of it in my belly. Five miles later, we are back in Los Olivos (A.K.A Honey let's get out of L.A. for the day). Ken and I can't be stopped from getting out of our chamios, but not Lucas. The boy is obsessed. One more time around the TOC TT course for him. Fool.
Well, Ken and I enjoy sum grub, and even a little ice cream, sitting outside soaking up some Calirific weather. Why did I ever leave this state? Who cares, I'm back. Unforntunately, my daze of back to back epic rides in the middle of the week are coming to an end, and I'll be back in the class room trying to get kids excited about regression coefficients, organizational theory, democratic theory, and a host of other things that only academics find interesting. But at least I'll have a tan, and some good memories of suffering with Kenny and Lucas.
Tomorrow, though, coffee ride. Ah, nice and easy. My legs will thank me.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
The Genius of South Park
So, the boys of South Park do it again. They take an important policy issue and put it in perspective. This time, racial profiling. Might have to incorporate this into my ctitical issues class, seeing that I do have the kids debating racial profiling. And as Cartman shows, being a bigot pays off while pulling a Jack Bauer. Who knew that it was the Brits all along.
I really, really, really want to put together a class called South Park and Public Policy.
Immigration: Goo Back to the Future
Elderly Driving/Interest Group Influence: Grey Dawn
Racial Profiling/Interorganizational Coordination: Snuke
Hate Crimes: Carman's Silly Hate Crime
Elections: Douche Bag and a Turd Sandwich
Evironmental Policy: Rainforest Schmainforest
Sexual Harassment: Sexual Harassment Panda
Sex Education: Proper Condom Use
Of course I need tenure before I can pull this one off.
Of course, I really should be putting together my syllabus for my public administration course that I've never taught. Maybe I can incorporate something South Park into that.
I really, really, really want to put together a class called South Park and Public Policy.
Immigration: Goo Back to the Future
Elderly Driving/Interest Group Influence: Grey Dawn
Racial Profiling/Interorganizational Coordination: Snuke
Hate Crimes: Carman's Silly Hate Crime
Elections: Douche Bag and a Turd Sandwich
Evironmental Policy: Rainforest Schmainforest
Sexual Harassment: Sexual Harassment Panda
Sex Education: Proper Condom Use
Of course I need tenure before I can pull this one off.
Of course, I really should be putting together my syllabus for my public administration course that I've never taught. Maybe I can incorporate something South Park into that.
Back on Black, or do they make a 10t for the front?
It's been a long, long time, living in the flat lands, then realizing that the gearing of yor ain't no good for my nearly 4 decade old legs, since I've attacked either the Fig or Black Mountain. Okay, the Fig was just a matter of coordination, but I have avoided the big Black a few times since I've been back. "No, no, no, ain't gonna go with the 39/23," I'd whine. But I'm on break, and I dumped a load in a new group with compact gearing, so there is no excuse. So, when the two who get paid to do what I pay to do say let's do the Black, I'm all in.
I must admit, I want to see how I fare against the argyle clad L. Euser (that's what his argyle sticker says on his bike, even though saying it fast is a slam of sort) on the big black. I know I won't match, but he will at least push me to the limit. And, he so much reminds me of ol' corndog McNeil (I must get a hold of that guy some time). I thought maybe the similarity would bring back my 23 year old legs.
Rolling out was cool and easy. Lucas wants to put an effort up Park Hill. No prob. I push it with him, though I suspect that he has the rev limiter on a bit. Ken, well he's feeling sluggish. That explains yesterday. And to boot, I think it is making him cranky. That boy can sure drop the f-bomb.
After the effort, we ease up to save it for the big one. It is clear as can be in front of us, the big white ball on top of old Black. And if I knew how to work my camera phone (don't use it lose it kind of thing), I'd have a great shot to show. Turn left, hit the dirt at Turkey Flat, then up, up, and away. Ken says adios muthas. He's still feeling the pains of a wreck in Fresno a few weeks, and says he is only going up to 5 points, back down, and one more shot up, leaving the rough and tough stuff for us.
Well, Lucas plays nice, or is playing with me, and we swap point up to five points. I put in an effort, he comes by and probably puts in less of an effort. I feel like I'm his measure, but it is all a sham. Turn left at five points and straight up. I was told that a 34/23 is like a 39/26, but it feels as though I am stuck in the big chain ring. But hey, I got Lucas on my wheel, things are going well. Ol' McNeil used to have a hard time with me when things got really steep, maybe Lucas is the same way. Yeah, right. I stick with him for a while through the ups and downs across the ridge, but that ends, and the buck thirty fly weight flys away with a couple of miles to go. Hey, stuck with him for five miles, not bad. Now it is time to drag my ass up the uber steep pitches until I get to the big white ball. Make the turn for the ball, and put it in the big chain ring for show. Wait, not spectators, just a smiling Lucas looking like he was out for a coffee shop ride.
At the top we take in the view. Snow capped Sierras to the East, Cuesta ridge to the west, good stuff. Now down. Not the funnest descent, cuz it is dirty and bumpy. For Christ's sake, there are water bars on that paved road. Fun on a mt bike, but not on the skinnies. Lucas and I take turns running off the side of the road, but we finally make it do to our sprinter friend who thought he might have to do another run up to five points.
Rolling in, Lucas says "another effort?" How can I resist him? Plus, my fragile ego won't let me say no. We pace it into Santa Margarita and get some sugar and caffeie for the last hump home. Only eight to go, so one would not think that one would need another effort, but apparently Jonny V. has his argyle boys on a mean regimen. So, rolling up the back side of the grade, Lucas looks at me and says "one more time big boy?" Once again, how could I resist? However, me legs don't like it. They shut down when we sat down to enjoy our Coke in SM. He dances up the back side of the grade, and I do the white boy shuffle. Ouch.
So, 5 hours in the saddle today, and I'm committed to the Fig tomorrow. Some people kick back on their vacations; I'm not so smart. But when I live in vacation land, and I have legs that will get me around some of the purdiest country around, I can't imagine a better thing to do than to spend hours on end suffering in spandex. So fig, here I come. And Lucas, I ain't gonna let you get away tomorrow (unless you want to).
I must admit, I want to see how I fare against the argyle clad L. Euser (that's what his argyle sticker says on his bike, even though saying it fast is a slam of sort) on the big black. I know I won't match, but he will at least push me to the limit. And, he so much reminds me of ol' corndog McNeil (I must get a hold of that guy some time). I thought maybe the similarity would bring back my 23 year old legs.
Rolling out was cool and easy. Lucas wants to put an effort up Park Hill. No prob. I push it with him, though I suspect that he has the rev limiter on a bit. Ken, well he's feeling sluggish. That explains yesterday. And to boot, I think it is making him cranky. That boy can sure drop the f-bomb.
After the effort, we ease up to save it for the big one. It is clear as can be in front of us, the big white ball on top of old Black. And if I knew how to work my camera phone (don't use it lose it kind of thing), I'd have a great shot to show. Turn left, hit the dirt at Turkey Flat, then up, up, and away. Ken says adios muthas. He's still feeling the pains of a wreck in Fresno a few weeks, and says he is only going up to 5 points, back down, and one more shot up, leaving the rough and tough stuff for us.
Well, Lucas plays nice, or is playing with me, and we swap point up to five points. I put in an effort, he comes by and probably puts in less of an effort. I feel like I'm his measure, but it is all a sham. Turn left at five points and straight up. I was told that a 34/23 is like a 39/26, but it feels as though I am stuck in the big chain ring. But hey, I got Lucas on my wheel, things are going well. Ol' McNeil used to have a hard time with me when things got really steep, maybe Lucas is the same way. Yeah, right. I stick with him for a while through the ups and downs across the ridge, but that ends, and the buck thirty fly weight flys away with a couple of miles to go. Hey, stuck with him for five miles, not bad. Now it is time to drag my ass up the uber steep pitches until I get to the big white ball. Make the turn for the ball, and put it in the big chain ring for show. Wait, not spectators, just a smiling Lucas looking like he was out for a coffee shop ride.
At the top we take in the view. Snow capped Sierras to the East, Cuesta ridge to the west, good stuff. Now down. Not the funnest descent, cuz it is dirty and bumpy. For Christ's sake, there are water bars on that paved road. Fun on a mt bike, but not on the skinnies. Lucas and I take turns running off the side of the road, but we finally make it do to our sprinter friend who thought he might have to do another run up to five points.
Rolling in, Lucas says "another effort?" How can I resist him? Plus, my fragile ego won't let me say no. We pace it into Santa Margarita and get some sugar and caffeie for the last hump home. Only eight to go, so one would not think that one would need another effort, but apparently Jonny V. has his argyle boys on a mean regimen. So, rolling up the back side of the grade, Lucas looks at me and says "one more time big boy?" Once again, how could I resist? However, me legs don't like it. They shut down when we sat down to enjoy our Coke in SM. He dances up the back side of the grade, and I do the white boy shuffle. Ouch.
So, 5 hours in the saddle today, and I'm committed to the Fig tomorrow. Some people kick back on their vacations; I'm not so smart. But when I live in vacation land, and I have legs that will get me around some of the purdiest country around, I can't imagine a better thing to do than to spend hours on end suffering in spandex. So fig, here I come. And Lucas, I ain't gonna let you get away tomorrow (unless you want to).
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Do they make 10t
Finally got to put the new 11t to use (albiet it is coupled with three t less up front).
Big wind today made for some slow going heading up 1 during the first 1/2 of the Tuesday mini race.
But once we flipped it, it was high gear time. Some how found myself a bit off the front at the foot of the Col de Turri. No good. Little Lucas E surely would be showing me his cute argyle clad rear soon as he zipped by, and Kenny "mullet no more" h might be revving up his sprinter's legs to zip by. But wait, Lucas came up to say hi, then zipped back to the group behind. They're playing with me. Dig deep while you got the gap. Got to get the jump in my legs anyway. Over the top, and the polka dot is mine. A handy dose of lactic acid to the legs was also in order. Redland's must have taken its toll on Lucas and Oz's legs. And hey, Ken's a sprinter, and a col is a col.
Down the back side is surely where I am going to hurt, trying to hop on the speedster's wheels as we paceline down LOVR with a 30mph wind smacking our spandex clad booties. Other than a few tough turns as first, it was no problem. Had to be the new red hoops.
Winding up for the final sprint, I figure I would get some practice for leading out the payne man for the sprint in the next crit. 50/11, head down, rocking it for what it is worth, I give it a heeve hoo for about .75 k. Coming up on 250m, only two on my rear. No Ken zipping around. Just little Luc and Craig N. Hmm, let's hear it for the 11t. That, and maybe a little race fitness is creeping in .
Longer daze the next two daze. And, Ken for some reason, wants to attack the Fig, not once, but twice on Thursday. Yummy. 18 miles of epic climbing.
Big wind today made for some slow going heading up 1 during the first 1/2 of the Tuesday mini race.
But once we flipped it, it was high gear time. Some how found myself a bit off the front at the foot of the Col de Turri. No good. Little Lucas E surely would be showing me his cute argyle clad rear soon as he zipped by, and Kenny "mullet no more" h might be revving up his sprinter's legs to zip by. But wait, Lucas came up to say hi, then zipped back to the group behind. They're playing with me. Dig deep while you got the gap. Got to get the jump in my legs anyway. Over the top, and the polka dot is mine. A handy dose of lactic acid to the legs was also in order. Redland's must have taken its toll on Lucas and Oz's legs. And hey, Ken's a sprinter, and a col is a col.
Down the back side is surely where I am going to hurt, trying to hop on the speedster's wheels as we paceline down LOVR with a 30mph wind smacking our spandex clad booties. Other than a few tough turns as first, it was no problem. Had to be the new red hoops.
Winding up for the final sprint, I figure I would get some practice for leading out the payne man for the sprint in the next crit. 50/11, head down, rocking it for what it is worth, I give it a heeve hoo for about .75 k. Coming up on 250m, only two on my rear. No Ken zipping around. Just little Luc and Craig N. Hmm, let's hear it for the 11t. That, and maybe a little race fitness is creeping in .
Longer daze the next two daze. And, Ken for some reason, wants to attack the Fig, not once, but twice on Thursday. Yummy. 18 miles of epic climbing.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Quote of the weekend
Henry Kramer rides up to me during the Orosi rr, after I humped it up the climb and had been trading blows with Danny bagboy Martin, and says "you don't look like you need any help up here." Damn, my poker face is so good I can even fool my teammate.
Everybody's doing it, so why not me.
Alright, so it seems as though the thing to do after one sweats it out in spandex out in the middle of nowhere for nothing more than bragging rights and a velopromo t-shirt is to get online and talk about it. Oh how times have changed. But what the heck, I'll give it a spin.
So here's my 2 cents on my second weekend back at the races after a 11 year hiatus.
First of all, I apparently can't read lap cards, or hear the bell for the bell lap. Here I was, thinking that I'd be setting my teammate up perfectly to win the field sprint at the Hanford crit, but apparently I was a lap early. Sorry Gavin. Next time, I swear.
Of course, I should have been up the road, but I was a lap late in getting up front to make the day's break. My excuse (got to have those post race) is that the legs were missing a bit of pep since I had to chase a break forever and a day the day before at the Orosi rr. But hey, I earned the name nitro out on the open roads of the Sierra foothills so it was all worth it, right? But it is the same familiar theme of days gone by, always just missing the winning move.
One thing's for sure, I definitely got the itch back, and the post race analysis and self criticism. But hey, the legs still seem to cooperate when I tell them to go hard, so that is encouraging. Just need to put them in the right position at the right time. And again, learn to read lap cards. Silly me.
Next race, Copperopolis. And I've got a score to settle with that course.
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