It’s been a busy few days. I drove to Connecticut to my little sister and brother-in-law’s Tuesday (the 12th). Due to the traditional late start, I didn’t roll in until 4AM Wednesday, which meant that Wednesday was basically a recovery day.
Thursday was DaveCon. I rode the train into NYC from CT, met up with all my a.f.l. pals and had a fabulous Late Show experience. Then we shot the Tony Mendez Show (starring Tony Mendez) and off to dinner. Tony joined us at dinner and, as ballet season hasn’t started yet (he’s a huge fan), this year he stayed all evening, eating, sharing behind-the-scenes gossip and shouting “no more pictures“. A more in-depth DaveCon trip report is in the works. (DaveCon photos, here)
Friday I again rode the train in and met Traci, Helen, and the no longer yella Brady for pie. Due to some bad directions I was a bit late and missed Micah and David Yoder. Helen and Traci were headed to see the new Trek movie at the I-Max theater and Brady was bound for points unknown. I headed out to shop and sight-see by bike. Once I got going I was so totally overcome with, and enamored by, the rush of slithering through traffic that I lost sight of everything else. I weaved my way up the East side, through Harlem, into and around Central Park then down through the theater district and Times Square. Basically the only stops I made were to grab a hot dog, a pretzel, a banana, a slice of pizza, etcetera, devour it, and jump back on the bike. Finally, spent, I made my way back to Grand Central Terminal. I thought I could take my bike on any off-peak train and so I bought my ticket and boarded the 8:04 train to New Haven. Along comes the conductor and informs me that no, I have to wait for the 8:35 train, so, dejected, I get off the train and wait. Not a big deal, Grand Central is a wonderful place to pass some time, I was just tired and ready to head ‘home’.
Saturday and Sunday were spent hanging with the family and the doggies and a wonderful home-cooked meal, complete with a Vermont Mystic Apple Pie (thanks, sis, and Danny, for finding the pie).
Monday was another day of riding in NYC. Pie for breakfast then another train ride into the city. The weather was a bit cool and threatening-looking so the wind breaker put in an appearance (all day). I was a bit more successful in my shopping endeavors, and had a delightful lunch/snack in Chinatown. I had some sort of mystery cake; a dense sponge-type cake, covered in crushed nuts and filled with banana creme. This, a cup of tea and a big slab of fresh-baked bread set me back the princely sum of $2.10. (Cycling Manhattan photos, here)
I really can’t overstate how much fun I had. DaveCon was, once again, everything I could hope for (well aside from not getting the tour or photo-ops at Dave’s desk. Curse you, Kevin Spacey! And a pox upon you too, “Survivors”).
Cycling in Manhattan was, quite possibly, the most fun I’ve ever had. Weaving and slithering through traffic I felt, quite literally, like some kind of super-hero. I really do love New York.
Special thanks to all those involved for making it the trip of a lifetime (you know who you are).
Tuesday I drove back home and got to see Pennsylvania by daylight for the first time. It’s a lovely state. I’m thinking of relocating to Sugar Notch, PA.
Oh, and Kevin Spacey? You’re still on ‘the list’.
They say a picture is worth a thousand words, so this should save me quite a bit of typing:
Click to embiggen.
Today I spoke with the dog owner’s insurance company. It seems (knock on wood) that they realize that I’m being completely reasonable are going to do likewise. Just after getting off the phone with them, I get a call from the local court’s ‘Restitution Coordinator’. She called to see how I was and what sort of expenses I’ve incurred. I told her of my conversation with the insurance folks and that I don’t anticipate any major expenses, but one never knows. So, she’s going to pass this on to the judge (the dog’s owner has to appear in court tomorrow). She said she’d let know the outcome of the hearing and said that if I have any expenses that the insurance company won’t cover to let them know and they’ll assist me in recouping.
The bite seems to look a little worse, but is feeling marginally better.
I had a nice ride today, no excitement. Well, an asshole in an SUV yelled some sort of Doppler-shifted gibberish at me. All I made out was “the road”. Then, as I was stopped in left turn lane at the light near my house a man in a pick up (to my right) said to me, “You made good time”. Apparently we’d both been caught at a light a few blocks away together and he was impressed I’d caught him again.
Not a bad day at all. Seems like the system is going to work as it should, and the assholes were canceled out by the friendly folks.
Went out for my first ‘real’ ride of the season today. You can probably guess what happened on my way back into town. Black chow comes charging down his driveway (where the owner was impotently standing by), with no wasted movement he makes straight for me and chomps down on my ankle. The owners were cool (though not nearly apologetic enough for my taste) and are saying they’ll cover my expenses. Wasted a lot of my evening talking to them, at the Urgent Care, and at Wal-Mart picking up the de rigueur antibiotics. Tomorrow I have to call animal control folks back and talk to them. Hopefully they will report back that the dog is, in fact, up on all of his shots. The owners said he was, but c’mon, what the hell else are they gonna say?
Got a couple of nasty punctures/gashes in the back of my calf, one with a chunk ripped out! First time I’ve been bitten, had to make it a good one, I guess.
And now, I think I’ll go listen to the Dead Kennedys’ song from which I purloined this post’s title.
You may recall me doing some bitching the last time my basement flooded. Well, with the practically non-stop thunderstorms this week, it happened again.
Anyway… I headed out for a ride this evening and kept coming across roads that were closed due to flooding. I took a chance that I could get through on Valley Road (which was “closed”), after all, it hasn’t been raining today. I climb the hill by the airport, speed down the other side and there, up ahead, is the water. As I draw closer I see that there’s a narrow strip down the other side of the road that’s above the water and only a bit wet in places. Onward! I cross 35 and head to Hilltop Road, which also has signs up that it’s closed (flooded). Emboldened by my previous success, I press on. I come to one area which was obviously underwater, but is now completely dry, so my decision is looking better. Then I come to another Road Closed sign. “Uh-oh, this doesn’t bode well.” Then I see that the entire low-lying part of the road which is adjacent to the river is very much underwater.
Dejected, I turn around to seek another way home.
Here’s the thing that ties the two flooded basement incidents together. The last time it happened I had lost my key, but had a spare hidden away. Today I realized early in my ride that I had forgotten my key, which was hanging right where it belongs, right next to the spare, which I hadn’t bothered to return to where it belongs.
I ended up calling a locksmith, who couldn’t pick the lock and had to drill it out. A rather costly lesson for me. Between the service call, and the new lock (re-keyed to match the deadbolt); not returning my ‘emergency key’ to its hiding place cost me $96.30.
While the theme for yesterday’s ride might have been “bugs”, today it was wildlife. Two deer (in different spots), several bunnies, all of the birds I would expect to see, plus a Blue Jay. I don’t know why, but Blue Jays and Mockingbirds are scarce in this immediate area. A twenty minute ride to the south and you will find both in abundance, but here you rarely see either.
Anyway, I made my mind up before leaving that today I was doing the ride I intended to do yesterday. There would be no bug-gauntlet/shortcut today, no sir!
I felt surprizingly strong climbing Hilltop Road, and of course I enjoyed the run back down the hill on Fairground. Reaching the rolling hills on Fairground… Bonk! Just like yesterday, I found myself totally spent, riding back home at a crawl.
The legs are strong, but the motor still needs some work.
All in good time, all in good time.
It’s really quite sad, here it is nearly June and I’m in ‘February shape’.
Today was as close to a perfect day for a ride as you can ask for, so naturally, I went for a ride. My original “plan” was to return home by way of Hilltop Road to Fairground Road. Sadly, as I neared the point where I would turn toward Hilltop Road, my legs felt like lead and I just couldn’t talk myself into climbing the hill for which the road is named, so I decided to hop on the bike path, bypass the hill(s), and pick up Fairground Road at the Fairgrounds.
It turns out, this was a bad idea. I ride on bike paths infrequently enough that I sometimes forget the various reasons I eschew them. The reason I don’t ever ride this particular section of path during the Spring or Summer, particularly in the evening, is bugs. Vast horrible clouds of tiny little bugs. Bugs in my eyes, bugs in my ears, bugs up my nose, bugs down my throat, bugs in my hair, bugs every-fucking-where. It was like a Goddamned mile-long bug rain storm, the difference being; actual rain doesn’t make me curse like an enraged Tourette’s patient.
Thankfully, I was soon off the bike path and out of the bugs. The horror of the bugs would have been quickly forgotten were it not for the fact that they still coated me like some sort of insect breading. Mmm… insect encrusted, deep-fried cyclist!
I made it home with no further drama. The cat enjoyed playing with some of my insect stowaways while I made haste in washing the remainder off of me and attempting to blow some of the less fortunate ones out of my nasal passages.
I won’t make that mistake again any time soon (famous last words).
So, I finally got my lazy ass out on a bike. JW knows (or can deduce) how shamefully long it’s been, but I’m hoping he’ll keep that to himself.
With my lack of conditioning and whatnot, I originally planned a leisurely ride with gears, but the cyclometer on the Fuji was dead and everyone knows that battery changing is an after-dark or rainy day activity, so I was ridin’ fixed on the Svelte Felt.
What is it about riding, particularly on the fixed gear that makes it so hard to “take it easy”? Every incline becomes the finish at Alpe d’Huez, every signpost an intermediate sprint (for time bonuses and valuable prizes, natch!)
Of course, I was slower than usual, but all things considered, I felt surprizingly good and my spin has remained remarkably smooth (26.2MPH @ 42×16 on 25mm tires, that’s just shy of 130RPM, bike-math geeks, not too shabby (for me)).
Later I was looking over some old ride logs, seeing entries like rides home from work at 14° with 25mph winds and wet, slushy roads. Man, I gotta stop with the “it’s too wet/cold/windy BS”, harden the fuck up, stop making excuses, and ride!
Riding along today, I kept hearing a loud ratcheting buzz, after looking down at my gears and rear hub (a Dura-Ace hub whose freewheel is nearly silent, thanks to my having filled it with automotive 80W 90 gear oil) I realized it was another bike coming up behind.
He overtakes, we exchange pleasantries and he pulls through. His pace isn’t uncomfortable for me, so I follow his wheel. I was unable to draft too closely as he was apparently enamored of his freewheel’s buzz and coasted quite frequently. Despite this I was enjoying the draft and a bit saddened by the knowledge that he’d probably drop me for good on the upcoming descent.
Now, I consider myself a pretty good descender, it’s my biggest (only?) strength on the bike. The problem is, at 135 pounds I can’t keep up downhill with similarly skilled but heavier (gravitationally gifted) riders. Anyway, I figure my compatriot here has at least 30-40 pounds on me, so I don’t hold out much hope.
So anyway, as he crests the hill I let the gap open. As I roll over the top (see map) and shift to the big ring he’s sitting up, glancing back at me. Never one to waste a good downhill run, I crank hard a few times, drop into my best aero tuck and shoot past. There was a touch of a headwind, so I barely broke 38mph (the other side of 40 isn’t unusual on this hill). As the road levels out, I glance back, trying not to be too obvious about it, and don’t see him. I repeat my glance-stealing several times and don’t spot him, nor do I hear his raucous freehub (a fact which I later happily attribute to him not coasting at all, pedalling furiously in a futile attempt to close the gap).
Finally, after I’ve made my right turn back in the general direction of home I look back again and see that he’s about 10-15 seconds back and continuing straight on Washington Mill Road.
Wow, I think to myself, even with me slowing to let him catch up he couldn’t close the gap I opened on a short little downhill run; a rare “victory” on the bike for me! Beggars can’t be choosers so I’ll take ‘em however I can get ‘em. Whether it’s dropping timid descenders or out-sprinting little kids; a win is a win!
Friday morning, returning from my 4am bike ride, I rode by the park. Apparently I awakened one of the white “park ducks” who proceeded to vocalize his displeasure. Bowing to the Dr. Doolittle side of my nature, I replied:
“Shut up, you. I’m not buying your damned insurance.”
I laughed at my own cleverness the rest of the way home.
I really am quite easily amused.
Last week our weather was typical of the “dog days” of summer; temps in the mid to upper 90’s (even breaking 100° once or twice, depending on who you believe) with late-afternoon/evening thunderstorms popping up. Consequently my preferred evening ride time kept getting rained out. I kept telling myself I’d put on the headlight and go once it dried out and cooled off, but even that proved problematic. Wednesday night, for instance, it was still 90° at midnight. 90°! At midnight! And soupy-humid too, as an added bonus.
Anyway, Thursday night/Friday morning I was not going to be denied and headed out for a ride about 4am. The temperature was a very pleasant 70 and the humidity was ultra-high (which I really don’t mind at night, as long as it’s cool).
Riding out into the countryside I stopped and switched off my light to appreciate the relative lack of light pollution and the attendant dark skies. There was just the barest sliver of a moon so the stars were in full effect. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness and more and more stars became visible I saw a faint, shimmering shooting star. A few minutes later there was another; apparently the beginnings of this year’s Perseids (which I had forgotten about).
After soaking in the beauty of the night for a bit longer I saddled up, switched my light back on, and rode back into town, rejuvenated. Ain’t life grand?
Yesterday I decided to stop procrastinating and actually do something about taking my ‘geared’ bike out for a ride. Since I bought the Pista nearly 3 years ago, I’ve ridden nothing but fixed gears.
So last night I gave the Fuji a once-over, replaced the chain, aired up the tires, wiped the accumulated dust and cat hair from the gears and such; got it ready to ride.
As I started out on my ride today the first thing that struck me was how odd it felt being able to coast as I was taking off and clipping into the pedals. When my left pedal didn’t come around to meet my foot on its own, it felt like something was broken or disconnected. A very odd sensation.
Click photo to enlarge
The next thing I noticed was that I seem to be turning bigger gears than I used to, all other things being equal, and that I’m not shifting nearly as often.
Hitting some hills was when the difference was really driven home. I had forgotten just how much it feels like you’re flying as you coast downhill at ~40mph.
The Fuji will definitely not be sitting unridden for 3 years again. What a waste!
