My cycling journal
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Ok, I’m a spreadsheet guy. I admit it. And according to my cycling spreadsheet, I’ve ridden my bike 3,097 miles this year. I’ve basically ridden my bike from San Diego to Boston. Wow.
Here’s another one for you - so far this year, I’ve only driven my car 1,566 miles. So, I’ve ridden my bike almost twice as far. Now that’s a carbon footprint I can live with.
Their sinister pact was hatched a long time before I came zooming down the SR-56 bike path. It was a beautiful, clear day and I was riding right into their ambush at 22.7mph. After my century ride Tuesday, I was just out for a few recovery miles to the coast and back. But who can guess the dark thoughts of a twisted rodent mind? They waited patiently, for maybe hours, for just the right moment. With the wind (and a little Dave Matthews) rushing in my ears, I couldn’t hear their tiny rodent-cries of “Banzai!!” as they unleashed their sinister attack!
The first kamikaze squirrel darted out from the ice plant along the side of the trail aimed directly for my front wheel! BUMP-THUMP! I was just rolling over the first suicide-attacker when the second squirrel launched, again directly for my front wheel! BUMP-THUMP! Oooh, another direct hit.
The attackers had not considered the strength of my new Mavic Kysrium SLC wheels, nor the 110psi pressure in my tires, nor my 185lb bulk, driving my bike forward at 22.7mph. Unfortunately for them, their attack was a total disaster. I slowed and turned around after the incident but I did not see any bodies on the road. Maybe their accomplises quickly dragged them to a little squirrel-M*A*S*H hospital.
Keep your eyes open for these little guys. This could have been the opening moves in a larger revolutionary action - they are probably upset about all those “Don’t feed the squirrels!” signs at the local parks…
We’ve been warned…
I have a hard time making it to Julian. I’ve been turned around by weather, I’ve mega-bonked on the way home and been just plain-old, “I don’t have the legs and wont try”. In fact, the only time I’ve had a really enjoyable time getting to Julian and back was on a midweek ride with Mike. Mike and I set out to replicate our success yesterday morning. He’s training for L’Etape in a few weeks and was looking for lots of miles at a reasonably slow pace.
With my poor success record for getting to Julian and back home, I’ve built up some fear around attempting it. It’s my nemesis ride. My goal for the day was to dispel the demons and make Julian mine.
The road to Julian is difficult. First, it’s uphill most of the way there. But it’s not like climbing a mountain, where you can get into a rhythm and pedal for an hour or two, it constantly changes up, so you’ve got to keep changing riding styles and the downhill return trip is something you have to work at rather than just coast through. It’s also a long course - at least 86 miles round trip from my house to Julian, which is a big ride for me. And this time, Mike and I resolved to add Highland Valley Road into the mix on the way back for extra fun and miles. Here’s the elevation profile for the day.
We took the pace slow and steady on a gorgeous SoCal morning. Sheehan joined us for the early part of the ride out Poway Rd and through Ramona. He did a really great job with some long pulls at the front that I think ended up making a big difference to both Mike and I. Unfortunately, his calendar had him turn back before the end of Old Julian Hwy.
Heading through the backcountry east of San Diego is always amazing. I think that I live in an urban area, but within a few minutes, I can be pedalling through rural farmland and past ranches with grazing cattle and horses. It was a beautiful morning.
We climbed out of Santa Ysabel and were soon on Wynola Rd, one of the prettiest mountain roads around and a terrific descent on the way home. In no time, we were enjoying apple pie.
I’m not so sure that wolfing down a big piece of pie is really the best way prepare for the 50-mile return trip, so I just had a few bites. The pie was good as usual though. Afterwards, we stretched out, refilled or bottles and headed down the hill. Wynola road was a lot of fun. I’m remembering the corners and getting to be a better descender. In no time, we were flashing back through Santa Ysabel, headed home.
Mike was feeling a bit knackered so I took the lead to help him for the flat and uphill portions. I was more than happy to take the wind as Mike has helped me get home on several occasions. It was also a great workout and knowing that Mike needed my help to get home was motivation to keep my tempo high and not slack off.
And even though I was starting to get tired by the time we got back to Ramona, we added the Highland Valley Road loop. It was hot, our bottles were empty and Mike knew where to find a hose bib. We stopped by the side of the road and showered off - wow that felt good! I had been 5 hours in the saddle by then and that cool, fresh water felt amazing. With full bottles and a rejuvenated spirit, we zoomed down HVR - a favorite descent for the Descenders because of the fast and twisty roads.
Back on the flat, headed for home, Mike pointed out that if I could find a few extra miles, I had a century day possible (100+ miles). I had just popped my final GU and this seemed like a great idea. The only real problem was that there are very few flat roads in Scripps Ranch on which to get “free miles”. Nevertheless, as Mike and I parted, I kept an eye on the odometer and decided to add a couple of little loops that should put me over the 100-mile mark. That’s when the final GU wore off and it started to hurt :) But I was resolute and accepted the suffering and the extra miles. I arrived home with my odometer reading 100.9 miles.
It had been a really hard day, but I felt good. Ok, my body hurt (a lot), but my spirit felt good. I made it to Julian and back on a really tough day. One hundred miles for pie.
Which is better - crossing a cattle guard at 8mph while climbing or at 39.7mph on the descent?
I think it’s best at slow speeds. My bike gets all hobbly-wobbly, the tires feel only half-inflated and I worry about falling over and disappearing into the grate who’s bars now seems to be more than 2 feet apart. Plus, you get for one short second, the barest idea of what it might be like to ride the cobbles of Paris-Roubaix.
All you get from zipping over them at 39.7mph is a brief, “Oh god, I hope this works!” moment and then ZZIIP, you’re done.
But enough of my opinion, you decide 
I told Dave on the drive out, “If I don’t have good legs today, I just don’t have good legs.”
After spending the week in recovery mode (which makes me crazy), I was very much looking forward to testing myself on Palomar Mountain this morning. We choose a short course that allows us to maximize our effort towards climbing. Here’s the profile:
It was hot, hot, hot in the valley (eventually 105 F when we came back down), but got cooler as we gained altitude. Once the climb began, I put myself on the front of a group with Voris and Rick, set my HR at 90% max, put my head down and climbed. I was looking to do a repeat performance of how I climbed to Whitney Portal a couple of weeks ago.
Palomar is nowhere as steep as Whitney (7% compared to 11% for Mt. Whitney) so I was able to keep my cadence high and even shifted up a few times when it eased off a bit. We climbed and climbed and it got cooler the higher we got.
Dozens of motorcyclists buzzed past us, up and down the mountain. Palomar, with 12 miles of very sharp turns through an oak/pine forest, is a very popular destination for these guys (and gals), who like to see how fast they can take the corners. We passed at least two motorbikes that had crashed and I wonder how many bikes go down here every weekend. The paramedics were on the scene at one incident, in the other, just the motorbike was broken.
For much of the climb, I was on the front, setting the pace for Voris and Rick. About 2/3 the way up, Voris came around and slowly built up a small gap. The gap began increasing. My HR was still right around 90% max and it seemed the prudent thing would be to let Dave go. But I’m not very prudent. The gap got a little larger and I thought, “Maybe if I just give it a few good kicks, I could close it down and hang on Dave’s wheel.” So I gave it some gas and closed the gap pretty easily, but as soon as I settled on his wheel I was gapped again! And now I was in debt from chasing him down so this time I really did let him go rather than risk a bonk. Dave is very, very strong. It’s a mistake to compare your performance to another rider on a long, hard road like Palomar - it’s too easy to blow up. You just have to ride your own pace, and that’s what I did.
I got to the yield sign in 1:26:37 which beats my previous time up by a little more than a minute, which I think was good. I ended up only losing 1:37 to Voris, and that’s good too, especially given how strong he is.
We stopped at the store to refill bottles and regroup then headed out to the observatory. I was still feeling pretty good and again I pegged my HR right at 90% and took off. Mike was along today and not feeling super strong so he and Voris pootled their way up together. Rick decided to put the hammer down. He was gone up the road in seconds. A few minutes later I passed him, he had a flat and was just starting the repair. Maybe 5 minutes later, he passes me again. That guy is amazing.
On the way back from the observatory, on the little climb back to the store, I was feeling kinda froggy and jumped off the front. Voris went with me and I tried to taunt him a little, hoping maybe I could find even the smallest chink in his wall of uber-performance. No such luck, he laughed me off and dropped me. Doh. Did I mention he’s very strong?
Then it was time for fun, we began the 12 mile descent. Twisty, turny and super fast. Really good road surfaces and I’ve done it a few times now so I recognize some corners. I managed to stay with the group on the descent and rather enjoyed myself. Very little brakes except in the tight corners.
We got back to the team van Jim pulls out a jar of ice-cold dill pickles, just like on our Monster Climbs trip! Awesome. We put the gear away, changed into swimsuits and jumped into the pool - we had parked at a condo complex in Valley Center which has a beautiful pool. You gotta imagine what it felt like - legs aching from 6,000 feet of climbing, 105 degree heat and then jump into a clear, cool pool. If we had more beer, we could have made it a party
Oh btw, Mike is back - he’s been traveling a lot and even had to miss the Monster Climbs trip. It was nice having you back today Mike.
Plans are firming up for my visit to the Tour de France. Here’s the details:
Fly to Paris, get in a nice 40km ride to shake the legs out and help with the jet lag. I hear our hotel is very close to the Eiffel Tower.
Take the TGV (world’s fastest passenger train) to Grenoble. Jump in the team bus for a short ride to Vizile and then ride to our hotel at the top of Alpe d’Huez. Not the steepest, or the longest climb in France, but certainly the most mythical with 21 famed switchbacks, each honoring Alpe d’Huez stage winners from previous TdFs.
Here is the elevation profile - it’s steep at first and then relentless to the top.
Take the team bus to the Col de Lauteret where we join the route of the next day’s stage. We’ll do the Col du Galibier, Col du Telegraph, Col del la Croix-de-Fer, and Alpe d’Huez once more.
The Galibier is easiest from the Lauteret and the Telegraph is really just a minor bump on the descent of the Galibier. First used in the 1911 Tour de France, the Galibier is often the highest point in the Tour
The route to the top is short, but sweet. Averaging just 6.9% until the last pitchy section at the top which is 12.1%. Nothing compared to the Monsters we climbed in early June.
Here’s the descent with the Col du Telegraph (we’ll ride it right to left, descending). I plan on earning my Descenders jersey on this one:
After the Galibier, we head up the valley to tackle the Col de la Croix-de-Fer (Pass of the Iron Cross)
While not as steep as some mountains at only 5% average, the Croix is long at 39.5km. And it does gain roughly 5,000 feet of elevation so it’s not to be discounted. This will be a major effort.
After the Croix de Fer, it’s back up Alpe d’Huez to our hotel. I am so glad we’re staying on the Alpe!
Stage 17 of le Tour finishes just beyond our hotel balcony, but don’t expect me to be sitting there, away from the pandemonium that’s coming to town. Today, we have the option of hanging out in Alpe h’Huez with our legs up, riding down and back up Alpe d’Huez on race day to soak up the atmosphere or heading out to bag the Col de Sarenne. I am honestly not sure what I’ll do, but I like the idea of riding down the Alpe and back up, stopping at a corner near the top to view the race go past. I wouldn’t mind being one of those crazy fans so watch for me on TV.
And just imagine the crazy party that will rage overnight - my goal is to be able to wake up the next morning ready for the bike (just very slowly!)
After the previous four days riding Alpe to Alpe, I’m sure to be happy coasting the 70km downhill to Grenoble today. I think the excitement will come from being at the stage start. Maybe I can bag an autograph or two.
We’re riding a complete Tour stage today, stage 19 from Roanne to Montluçon. It will be 165km of rollers with only a single 3rd and 4th categorized climbs. The peloton will be hot on our heels, and I assume that if they get too close to us, the race referee will pull off the course. We’ll have to cooperate and get the group across the line in time.
I’m sure my legs will be toasty by the finish line. I wonder where I can get a massage?
No riding today, we’re touring the start area for the final 53km time trial to Saint Amand Montrond. I’m excited to be able to wander around the start village, check out the riders warming up for the race and watch them leave the start house.
It’s likely that if the race was not won resoundingly on Alpe d’Huez, that it will be finished here. Who ever is in the lead after today wears yellow in Paris.
It’s another rest day as we make our way to Paris to watch the final stage on the famed cobbles of the Champs-Elysees. It’s traditional that there be no racing for the GC on the final stage, but watch out for the sprinters. Winning on the Champs means everlasting glory.
After the stage is won, we’ll see presentation of the final yellow jersey for the overall winner of the 2008 Tour de France. My bet is he’ll be a very happy and very tired guy. Then it’s off to dinner and a final night of celebration. I wonder if there will be time to hop on the bike one last time and do a few laps around the Champs before packing it up…
Early trip to the airport for my flight home. If this itinerary has you salivating, contact the good folks at http://www.bikestyletours.com. I think there still may be a few slots open for you.
It’s really just common sense. You apply stress to your body (training) and then allow your body to heal in a way that it can handle the stress better next time (recovery).
My problem is that I love to train hard and to train often. It’s just fun. So I find myself (like last weekend) where I have very little gas left in the legs, knowing that if I’d just settle down and heal they’ll come back even stronger.
But it’s hard to not ride your bike. On a beautiful day with the hills softly calling my name, my heart can conjure a thousand reasons why it makes simple sense to ride 50 miles or do a few hill-sprints. I try “active recovery”, all that stretching and core body exercises. Great, I just used up 20 minutes - can I go ride now?
Tuesday was to be a ride day (YEAH!) but I’m still officially in recovery mode so I chose an appropriate recovery route - just down to the coast and back. Highlight of the ride is the very short but steep climb up Torrey Pines (in the park). I told myself that I would just set a reasonable time up the hill to guage how my recovery is doing. There was a lot of traffic entering the park so I wasn’t able to build a lot of momentum, but when I hit the bottom of the hill my legs said, “Allez! Allez!” and next thing I know I’m flying up the lower portion of the hill. I get on the straightaway leading to the first curve and it’s all I can do to contain myself. It’s like I accidentally let the dog out after being shut in alone all day.
I posted a time of 4:27 to the stop sign (just 1 second short of a new PR) and 7:39 to the stoplight at the golf course. God that felt good!
Toodled home as slow as I could and still beat my average speed for this ride by more than a mph. Saturday is a mountain day (Palomar Mtn) and I’m either going to go completely apeshit on the first ascent or try and do it three times. We’ll see.
It was sometime in the ’80s, one of those really bright, clear SoCal days and my Dad and I were at the Schwinn store in downtown Orange. He was helping me get my first road bike, a Miyata Six-Ten, very similar to this one.
Note the panniers - this was a sturdy touring bike, designed to go long distances and be ridden in all kinds of weather. I imagined myself cycling across the country, with everything I needed on my bike. It was a triple and had 18 gears. The quote from the salesperson was, “This thing could climb trees if you had the traction.”
I loved that bike. I rode my Miyata up Chapman hill, which was the longest and steepest hill in the City of Orange. I rode into the “back country”, past Irvine Lake, out past the old landfill into Santiago Canyon. One time I went so far that I came out on the Irvine side and figured my way back home. I rode down the Santa Ana riverbed to the ocean in Newport Beach and back. I rode all the way to San Diego once, on a three-day ride with a church group.
I wore spandex bike shorts, wore t-shirts and had a pair of special cycling shoes, although they were not clipless. I carried bananas in my pocket as a snack, even though I don’t really like bananas, because that’s what Greg LeMond seemed to do. I wanted (but never had the guts) to wear a Campagnolo hat, with the bill turned up like a bike racer. My helmet was hard-shell and occasionally saved me from smacking my head.
At some point, I stopped riding my bike. Probably when I left home for the Army, as I was ready to move on to bigger adventures. The Miyata my Dad found for me had served it’s purpose. Lots of adventures and lots of growing up. Probably just what my Dad had in mind when he got it for me. Happy Father’s Day, Dad!
Coming off the tremendous high from last week’s Monster Climbs adventure, I was ready for long, hard rides this week. Unfortunately, my legs are not. I’m surprised at how long it’s taking for me to recover my A-game after the grueling punishment of last weekend.
I went out Monday for 20 miles of high-RPM / low-HR spinning around the lake and was sore and tired by the time I got home. On Wednesday, I took my bike down to Torrey Pines for 40 miles and really suffered climbing the last few miles back into Scripps Ranch.
We had Julian on the menu for this week’s Descenders ride and I really babied my effort on the way out. I was the last one up Poway Rd, last up to Ramona, didn’t push it very hard on Dye Rd and was last to the top of Old Julian Hwy too. But conserving my energy didn’t leave me feeling very sprightly either. It was starting to hurt and I wasn’t feeling very happy about continuing on to Santa Ysabel and Julian. There was a suffer-fest waiting for me down the road.
When riding in a big group of guys, not wanting to look like a wiener, it can be tough to tell everyone you don’t have the legs and are turning around for home. I went through the whole story in my head while climbing Old Julian Hwy and resolved to bail out. When I got to the top, everyone circled around and pointed back to home - they wanted to cut it short too! Right on!
The best part of cutting the ride short was that I no longer had to conserve my energy in “survival” mode, I could cut it up a bit and be sporty with the guys. So, I took off back down Old Julian Hwy, putting in enough of a dig to get the attention of the boys who came flying after me. Old Julian Hwy trends downhill so attack speeds are 30-40 mph, but there are some up-kicks in there that make you really work to stay ahead. We traded leads down the mountain in a fast, exciting line. I barely out sprinted Guido at the end, when the road take a right back to town.
On the team paceline back through Ramona, Guido and I talked about attacking Voris, just to tweak his shorts a little. We waited until near the end of Dye Rd. When Voris was trapped in the go-back line behind Sheehan, Guido and I took off and gapped the group. Maybe it wasn’t such a big gap, but it was fun doing the planning and execution.
And because we didn’t use up all our energy getting to Julian, we took Highland Valley Road home, as a special treat. HVR is a favorite of the Descenders and we hammered it even though we all told each other that we’d have a nice slow pace home. I’m starting to get good at this descending thing, although I pale in comparison to Guido and Sheehan who are absolute rocketmen.
At the end of the day, I’d racked 70 miles and had much, much more fun than if I’d suffered to Julian on B-game legs. Some time you just have to say ‘No’ to pie
Impossible. It’s just not possible to ride my bike 140 miles over 4 of the top 10 climbs in the US for a total of 23,000 feet of elevation gain in just three days. That’s over 4 MILES of vertical gain! Impossible.
Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in the world they’ve been given than to explore the power they have to change it. Impossible is not a fact. It’s an opinion. Impossible is not a declaration. It’s a dare. Impossible is potential. Impossible is temporary. Impossible is nothing.
- cheesy Adidas ad that I absolutely love
When I was invited to join the Descenders on their annual Monster Climbs trip I accepted immediately. This was just the kind of crazy stunt I needed to get me in shape for France. And at some point, climbing 23,000 feet in the eastern Sierra mountains became possible.
Ten Descenders began the adventure on Friday morning, loading bikes and gear in cars and heading northbound on I-15 and then Hwy 395 to Lone Pine. The 4.5 hour drive seemed over before it began and soon I was kitting up, preparing for the first Monster, Onion Valley. This first climb was designed as a warm up for the group since we’d spent the day driving from sea level up to 4,000 feet. The road to Onion Valley is only 13 miles long and gains 5,000 feet of elevation up a series of switchbacks.
I was a bundle of nerves and doubts as the ten of us started out. There was a very brisk wind driving out of the NW and we we’re all being very cavalier about it, like “It’s just air!”. If this was a typical Saturday ride we might have cut it short or bailed completely, but we had just driven all day to get here - we could not quit.
Heading up the alluvial fan, I quickly found myself in my lowest gear (34×27) and began a ritual that would haunt me all weekend: double-checking that I was really in my lowest gear. I cannot count how many times I pressed those gear levers, hoping that a magical 11th gear would spontaneously generate itself. It never did, but I never stopped checking either.
I put myself in a small group with Voris and decided to pace with him to the top. No funny-business mind you, I was very intimidated by the steepness of the road and the 25+ mph wind only made things much harder. Because of the wind, the switchbacks alternated between being just steep and hard to being fairly ridiculous. Imagine being bent over your bars, in a paceline going a mere 4.5 mph turning 42 rpm on your smallest gear.
It got down to just Voris, Boyle and myself with Rick and Drew way up the road. Both Rick and Drew are supermen. They like riding with us, but when the fancy catches them, they just go up the road in the kind of style you might find at the Tour de France. Voris, Boyle and I summited together and I snapped this photo to prove I actually made it.
It was then that I realized I am a bit of a stubborn jackass. It was only around 60F and getting colder by the minute. I was soaking with sweat and with the wind howling, it was damn shivery. Everyone had said it was cold on top and to bring your jacket and arm/leg warmers. But standing at the bottom of the climb in 98F heat, it’s hard to understand and rather than trust the people who’ve done the climb before, I elected to save the 2.5oz of cold weather gear, leaving them in the van. That was the last time I made that mistake.
As soon as I started shivering on top I knew I had to descend to warmer climate. Go back and look at that photo of the switchbacks again. Imagine you’re freezing cold and absolutely flying down the steep, narrow road which has been pocked with gravel and rocks and split by heat-expansion cracks. When the wind has your back, it’s all you can do to keep your speed under 40 mph. When you come to a turn, the wind whips around and tries as hard as it can to shove you off the road. My hands ached from braking and I worried seriously about getting a flat from overheating my rims. Lower on the mountain, after the switchbacks, I began to warm up again and thought I was good. But the wind was still too random, jumping out at me like a linebacker. I’ve never steered and leaned so hard right and still gone left before. It was truly amazing. There is an unsubstantiated report of an unnamed Descender managing to record a top speed of 62mph on the descent - yikes! (Mom, it wasn’t me, I promise).
Here’s the elevation profile for Onion Valley - it’s an isosceles triangle
Once we all arrived back at the cars safely, the elation for what we had accomplished set in. We sped back to the motel in Lone Pine for beer, pizza and to watch Tour de France DVDs. Watching Lance crush the peloton up Alpe d’Huez is great motivation.
Keep reading: Day 2 - Horseshoe Meadow and Mt. Whitney Portal
