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!
I was out riding the Felt today, and on my way home as I was approaching the overpass over the 35 bypass, a tractor-trailer was turning left onto Bellbrook Avenue ahead of me. I stood up, sprinted and tucked into his slipstream. I was very pleased with myself riding along in that pocket of dead air until I made a sad realization:
Once we start down the hill there’s absolutely no way I can spin fast enough to stay with him. Damn.
I don’t recall ever wishing so sincerely that I was riding my geared bike during the nearly 3 years that I’ve been exclusively on fixed gear bikes.
As I sat up and watched the truck pull away down the other side of the hill I decided that I have to get the geared bike out on the road.
I’ve had the new bike for over 3 months now, but for some reason I just got around to putting its Madonna del Ghisallo medallion (which I purchased in anticipation of buying the bike) on. As I’ve written before, this isn’t necessarily about religion, but it has become a sort of talisman to me. Both of my other bikes have one and now, so does the Felt.
Click for close-up of medallion.
I really like the way they look once they take on the patina of an old penny, but right now I’m digging the contrast. The bike, stem, and bars are all matte black, so the shiny copper medallion is a nice counter-point.
Yeah I know… “Thirty-six minutes to ride less than 7½ miles*? Wimp!”
You have to take into consideration all of the stop-signs and red-lights getting out of town (16, by my count), plus I had a 10-15 mph headwind, and I was taking it easy (honestly).
*The distance from my house to here and here (they’re the same place).
Today on my way back from the bike shop I passed a deer; a young doe, standing just off the side of the road (on my side). I turned around and rode back, positioning myself for a photo while she warily watched me. As I fumbled for the camera, I noticed her looking more tense, just then her little fawn appeared from the bushes and nursed for a moment. Now having become much more concerned with my presence, mom began leading her little one away from me. I grabbed a quick picture before riding on, leaving them to their business.
The two barely discernible blobs near the center are the deer
Click for a digitally zoomed ‘Bigfootesque’ view
A bit closer to home, very near where I drew inspiration from the elderly gentleman on his bike the other day, I spot what appears to be a motorized wheelchair coming down the road toward me. As we draw closer, I realize that it is, in fact, a man in a motorized wheelchair, and perched on his shoulder is a great big parrot!
As we pass I say “howdy”, he nods, and the parrot squawks. As I ride away, I can hear the parrot squawking for quite some time, I’m pretty sure he was talking about me, but it’s hard to say. I do wish I had stopped and asked them if they’d mind me taking their picture. Oh well… maybe next time.
Go for a bike ride, or a walk out in the country. There truly is no telling what you might see.
Today while I was out riding my bike I saw a Peacock! I was going to title this post “Unusual Birds”, but since I’ve been seeing a peacock at that same spot every now and then for years, it’s not really that unusual. Plus, exotic is really more descriptive anyway.
I would have taken a picture, but he lives beside a nice little down-hill on a fairly heavily trafficked road. And you know… bike riding, particularly on the fixed-gear, is all about preservation of momentum.
