I showed up at the start point at 8:00am, watching the skies for signs that the ride might fall on the wrong side of the predicted 50% chance of thunderstorms. As I got out of the car, a young woman came over and introduced herself as Mary Beth. She seemed relieved that someone else had shown up but was concerned that there weren't more riders there yet. I explained that people didn't usually arrive in force until about 15 minutes before the ride.
Sure enough, by a few minutes before the 8:30 start, there were about 10 of us geared up (get it? geared? bikes? oh, never mind...) and ready to go. And that's when the trouble started. One of the guys I know from GDB came over and explained that our ride leader had changed the start time for the ride to an hour later. Knowing that the later we started, the greater the odds of getting caught in the storms that were predicted in the early afternoon, we eyed the skies.
Mistake 1: One of the riders—a gentle giant of a man, named Dave—said he knew the route and offered to lead anyone who wanted to go ahead and leave at 8:30. Five of us, including CliffyB and Mary Beth, took him up on it. No sign of FlyingLaZBoy.
Our ride went smoothly enough for about 18 miles, when we reached the 7-11 that's the customary first rest stop. One woman who had been lagging behind for most of the ride hadn't arrived yet, so we waited. And waited. And finally her husband's phone rang. She'd ridden across a bad expansion joint and pinch-flatted both her tires. She only had one spare tube, and being the only other person in the group with 650c tires, I surrendered my only spare. It seemed like a bad idea, because if I flatted, I'd be stranded. But I did it anyway.
Note to self: Toss a patch kit in the seat bag.
Dave the Gentle Giant rode back with my tube and to help with the tire change. After 15 minutes or so, there was another phone call. Something was wrong with the rim, and they'd punctured one of the spare tubes. The woman's husband was riding back to get the car, and Dave needed to turn around and head back because of other time commitments.
Mistake 2: Mary Beth and I allowed CliffyB to convince us that we'd have no problem finding our own way along the rest of the route. This turned out not to be the case, but after some false turns and backtracking, we did manage to get on the loop around the airport.
Between the time spent waiting for the flat tire situation to play out and the time spent trying to get unlost, we met up with the bulk of the club group, who had waited for the 9:30 start. They were headed in the opposite direction on the loop.
FlyingLaZBoy, riding at the head of the group, saw me and started digging for his camera. In his hurry to snap a picture (at right), he dropped something on the ground and didn't seem to notice.I hope it wasn't his wallet.
Foo: "Hey Cliffy! C'mon, let's turn around and let them lead us out!"
CliffyB: "Nah... we'll just meet them coming around the loop."
Mistake 3: We never saw the group again.
By this time, Mary Beth was starting to run out of gas. As fit as she was and as game as she was, she'd only been cycling for a month, and all the extra miles we were logging had started to take her away from her happy place.
Finally, we got back to a point where we could retrace our route home and stopped at a filling station for necessary breaks and water.
CliffyB: "Man, we should have turned around and followed the group. I was waiting for you to talk me into it."
Foo: "What? I tried."
CliffyB: "You should have tried harder."
...
Foo: "Why you...! Dude. Just walk away."
As we got back under way, poor Mary Beth was obviously suffering. I could see that she was spinning smaller and smaller gears and still laboring, so I fell back to ride with her and tell her incredibly boring stories. I figured that if she was focused on how badly she wished I'd just shut up, maybe she wouldn't be thinking about her overworked legs.
Finally, within smelling distance of the barn (so to speak), we got turned around in some labyrinthine neighborhood and I'd had enough. While CliffyB blazed onward, I stopped and flagged down a homeowner on his riding lawnmower.
John Deere: "What can ah do for y'all?"
Foo: "This is a little embarrassing, but we seem to be trapped in your neighborhood."
John Deere: "Trapped, y'say."
Foo: "Yes. We're trying to get to the Preston-Forest shopping center. I know we're close but we seem to be going in circles."
Oh, he got a big kick out of that, but he got us out of the neighborood. Six hours after we'd started out, we rolled back into the shopping center parking lot. Mary Beth was so overjoyed to see her car that she hugged me, and I thought she might weep for joy.
Our 50-mile ride had stretched to 68.5 miles, and I logged my first metric century of the year. I've dubbed this one the Wrong Way Feldman Epic.
But lest my account give anyone the idea that I was miserable (aside from not caring for the feeling of being an Israelite lost in the wilderness), I wasn't. If it sounds like I'm P.O.'ed at Cliffy, I'm not.
This, my longest ride to date, could have gone more smoothly, but at the end of it I wasn't wiped out. At the risk of becoming repetitive, none of my body parts was screaming in agony, as had been the case on more than a few occasions when I rode my Trek 1500 in rallies over shorter distances. My quads and gluts were feeling a little wrung out, naturally, and my right knee was feeling a little tweaked. Minor complaints, considering I'd just ridden farther than my longest previous distance.
12 comments:
My apologies, good Sir... I didn't get the email from Mike about the 9:30 start time until almost 11PM the night before, and forgot to pass it on to you!!!
Nice coincidence, there, when we passed each other in opposite directions - I had sprinted ahead of the group on the prior uphill, so don't labor under the illusion that the Bent led the entire route!!! Besides, we were the slower group that skipped the Tower loop...
I'm not surprised you didn't catch us again at the Shell Station, since you were only about 1/3 the way 'round to it... (but how did you wind up going that direction anyway???)
Myself, I had 50 miles at a 17 average, my fastest at that distance so far...
Bet your neck still doesn't hurt!! (grin) Congrats on the distance -- you're ready for the Century next weekend!!!!!!
Paul
FLZB: Oh, the stories I have to tell. And for the price of something cold and hoppy, I will.
But until then, it will probably suffice to say that that I'd only done the Airport Ride once before and was too gassed most of the time to pay much attention to the route. Instead of doing what I'd have done if I'd been alone (follow the guy who knew where he was going, when he turned back) I followed the overly-optimistic buddy with (apparently) less sense of direction than I have.
No century for me, next week. We'll be flying down to catch the boat.
And I'm dying to know: what did you drop while trying to get your camera out?
Wow! That's quite a few extra miles to put on!
I can't imagine you telling boring stories, because the ones you tell here ALWAYS crack me up.
"Mistake 3: We never saw the group again." I actually exclaimed, "Oh no" at that one... out loud. And then of course my co-workers had to start asking what was wrong. Damn you Foo! ;)
"all the extra miles we were logging had started to take her away from her happy place" Might I state that ONE mile would probably take me out of my happy place. I'm so pathetic. I need to buy a bike.
Great picture BTW!
Allez: yes, the distance was a bit more than any of us had planned on, but sometimes it takes a bit of randomness to push your limits. Now, instead of thinking, "Gee, I almost did a metric that time I did 61.5 miles. I bet I could get a metric", I'm thinking, "Gee, I almost did 70 miles and still felt pretty good. I'll bet I could be ready for a fully century by Hotter 'n' Hell time!"
Tink: So I inadvertently wrote a cliffhanger? Who'd have thunk a ride report would make the reader cry out in consternation!
I'm probably not the most objective person to ask, given all that I've gone through to continue biking, but I have a hard time imagining how someone could not enjoy riding a bike. I spent so much fun time on my bike when I was a kid that riding now is the next best thing to having a time machine.
New cartilage in various strategic joints would be even better.
I think the trick, for someone considering getting back on a bike, is to do it for fun, not strictly because it seems like a way to lose weight or get in shape. That links riding too closely to work, and work usually equates to "things not fun". It also helps if you don't jump on the bike thinking you'll be Lance Armstrong within the first week. That's just discouraging.
Under the heading of "Why Bike?" I would add the following to your sentiments:
I was one of the metabolically lucky ones growing up -- between staying normally active and the naturally high burn rate, I ate as much as I wanted, and never gained weight. Somewhere between 30 and 35, however, my luck ran out, and I was faced with the immutable math of the situation. Either eat less, or exercise more. I like eating, so I opted for the latter. However, I absolutely HATE exercising for exercising's sake. Treadmills, weight machines, barbells bore me to death. I like to PLAY things, not WORK at them.
And when I bike, I'm Going Places And Seeing Stuff, and doing it a lot faster with a lot less wear than when I ran for my supper.
I think I'll start posting signs on my normal route to mark the offsets for my favorite foods. Of course, that would put my Chicken-Fried Steak sign somewhere around Brenham.
Bret: I like your metabolic road sign idea. 'Course, the way we Americans are, you could count on people trying to cheat by beginning their rides in the middle of the route.
"Wow! I've only ridden 100 yards, and already I've zeroed out that Big Mac. Wooooo! I'm the man!"
Sometimes the journey is more important than the destination.
Eric: Yes, I'm still trying to work out the wrinkles in my seat position. So, it's being too close that causes the knee pain? I've been skootching closer because someone told me that it was being too far from the pedals that was the problem.
Personally, I find it most comfortable when my heel can't quite rest flat on the pedals (in the traditional rule-of-thumb for positioning) and I have to slightly point my toe when pedaling. Too far, the pedal stroke gets uneven and I'm overworking my calves; too close, my knees hurt and I don't have enough clearance from the handlebar.
I'm still getting it figured out, but if I can ride 68.5 miles without having to lie on the floor and recuperate for the rest of the day and the one following, then I must be getting close.
I would have guessed "too far" as well -- when I changed to the new bike it was actually fit to me properly, whereas before I was a bit too close to the pedal, so after a day of unfamiliar extension, my knees were definitely sore.
OTOH, they've adjusted nicely, so I suspect the real answer is that there's a target range in the middle. Like Goldilocks.
The thing I'm wondering is how tiring the more elevated leg/foot positioning is on your new ride. I've seen a lot of the recumbents with a lower-to-the-ground pedal profile that struck me as more comfortable looking. It sort of looks like you're in a permanent leg-lift position. I gather you get a bit more power and can have a reasonably full-sized front wheel this way?
Bret: The high bottom bracket on highracer style recumbents is sort of a chicken/egg matter, but it will obviously be higher off the ground with dual 650c wheels than if it had a 20-inch or smaller on the front. The 650c front wheel rolls better, for better performance, but the added height makes it a bit more awkward for borderline short people like me.
That said, the BB height is more or less a non-factor for comfort, once I get rolling. I ride with clipless pedals, so I'm really not expending any effort to hold my legs up, because my feet are attached to the pedals. In fact, I believe this is a benefit to pedaling in circles (pulling on the pedal as well as pushing forward) because of the weight of my big ol' side o' beef thighs.
Eric: Thanks for the information about knee pain. Mine was in the front, and knowing which is which will certainly help me to dial in the perfect seat position.
At least, until I start getting cocky and decide to lean the seat back to go a bit more aero.
I'm loving your reports on the `bent, but if I don't stop reading them soon, I'll be out spending money I don't have for yet ANOTHER bike I don't have time to ride or room to store.
I am soooo jealous! :-)
Joe
Leadfoot! My man! Good to hear from you.
So I shouldn't be looking for another opportunity to come up and ride with you, then? Believe me, watching me spin the 'bent up that one 45-degree climb we had on the STOMP ride would be the finest of comedy—for you, at least.
I was wondering whether you were still knocking around the blogsphere or not. I had actually made a note to myself to e-mail you with news of the new steed. You saved me a lot of trouble by reading the blog entries!
For the curious... it wasn't my wallet(!) I dropped... it was a packet of carb-gel that I had just fished out of my pocket, intending to open just as I spotted FooMan coming at me from the other direction!
Having a "recumbentized" jersey (pockets in the front), I quickly fished my camera out, and whilst trying to turn the control dial to "on" with one hand, dropped the gel packet into my lap. Figuring that dropping the camera was the more punitively expensive option, I let the gel go, and snapped the picture...
...and what IS it with cycling, that one feels one can't just PULL OVER AND STOP for 15 seconds to do this??? It was because all those other "regular bike" riders were only 25 yards behind me... Too funny...
Paul
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