cuda2k

In an attempt to give the area riders to talk about, review, plan and discuss area rides, here's a thread just for all that good stuff. For major organized rides, a seperate thread is probably a good idea, this is more for weekly rides, races, etc etc you want to talk about.

Here's my report of this morning's ride with the Richardson Bikemart 36/ 27mi crew (9am start)

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Anyone in the middle section of the US probably has seen quite a bit of rain the last couple of days. Dallas was no exception. It was pouring with the occasional rumble of thunder all day and most of the night last night. Last time I'd looked at the forecast they said the rain chances were going to last well into Saturday. Grumbling I went to bed, I would be lucky if I got some time on the trainer on Saturday when my wife wasn't working on her paper in the study/bike room. Went to bed late, almost 2am, thinking I wouldn't be riding the next morning.

Six and a half hours later I get woken up to a loud yet cheerful bird outside my thin plate glass window in my apartment singing it's ever loving heart out. Something in my sleepy head registered there was too much light out and I pulled the covers over my head to sleep some more. Then wait, light, light means sun, sun means no clouds, no clouds means no rain... I pulled my head out from under the covers... SUN LIGHT!

I was up and moving in minutes, glancing at the clock I had just over 40mins to get the bike prepped, food in my stomach, and out the door and around the block to where the LBS rides start. Pulled the Flyte down off the rack, swapped saddle bags over from the Gazelle, checked supplies, filled bottles and changed. A quick check of weather.com and a step outside sent me back in for arm warmers and my wind vest. Seems the rain had left significantly cooler temps in its wake. 54 degrees and winds at 10 out of the west and appeared to be getting stronger. half a banana and a couple bites of cliff bar later and I was out the door.

Legs felt pretty good on the short sprint over to the bike shop. Roads were damp in some areas, still some standing water in others, but 80% of the road surface was dry already. I rolled into the parking lot, a maze of tents and displays taking up parts of it, the Spring Sale was still going and this was the main weekend for it.

Decided that I felt strong enough, and wanted to test my legs and the bike, against the LBS's 36mi "Swift" speed ride. I'd gone with this group once or twice in the past on my steel Gazelle. Often hanging on for dear life at the back. Today I rolled out near the middle of the pack, my legs and chest suffering a little on the first climb, but I did notice the NW winds factoring in to the situation. We turned down Renner Rd, two to 3 lanes each way, and the wind was now to our backs. I tried to settle in to a comfortable pace and spot in the pack. But some of the riders around me were making me unsettled and nervous, I wasn't able to keep a steady cadence, nor keep my eye off the guy off to my right, a little back that wasn't too stable on his bike. He was riding next to yet another rider, which made 3 across the lane with his wheel crossing mine. Not where I wanted to be. I looked over my shoulder to the middle lane, clear as far as I could see back. I wanted to find some more stable riders up at the front of the pack and I took off out of the pack and up the side.

25, then 30mph, the wind pushing, as well as a slight downhill grade helping me pick up speed. I shifted, once, then twice, passing rider after rider, quickly realizing I was about to pass the head of the group. I heard someone in the pack shout out "Go Lance." I felt strong, and wanted to see how well the Flyte handled at high speeds on the open road. I kept pushing, down in the drops, keeping the pace in the high 20's. I was slowed by a signal light, then a couple more, allowing the pack to finally catch back up to me after 4mi or so. But at this point I settled in at near the front of the pack where I wanted to be anyways.

It was 14 mi out to Sache, at which point I had the decision to go on with the 36mi group, or wait for the next group to arrive and ride back with them for a total of 27mi. Between the wind blowing at my back, and knowing I had a school project to finish later in the afternoon (which I should be doing right now), I made the choice to cut the ride short and stop. I stopped and checked avg speed, 20.6, not bad with all the stop lights and slowish start over the first mile or two.

The 27mi group arrived, and a couple of the other 36mi riders had stopped as well. I zipped my wind vest back up and started off with the wind to my face. I had planned to stay in the pack, allow someone else to break the wind for the most part. And I did that, for about the first half of the way back or so. Eventually I felt rested and decided I'd take my turn closer to the front. Pushing forward I pulled around the rider currently pulling the group of 10 or so riders that I was in at the moment. I tried to match my pace with what he had been doing, but I think his time at the front was taking a toll on him and the next few short hills found him and the pack slipping off my wheel. Determined to allow the other riders to get some benifit from my pain, I backed off the pace a little more and let them catch back up. Two other riders and I started sharing time at the front, hoping to keep each other from blowing up too much. Winds were now probably pushing 20mph, the gusts most certainly that or higher.

At last we were at the end of Renner, turning back to the South. Two more short climbs and we were back to the shop. I spun up the first short climb smoothly, recovering still from the time in the wind. The final climb though, I shifted down once, then twice, picking up pace and moving to the outside of the climb. This climb, this last climb of the day, is one I always go all out on. Not to pass other riders, but because I know how many times I've crawled up it at the end of a ride. There were 5 or so riders ahead, and one by one I passed. by the rest of the hill, I was at the front of the group, shifting once more for the gentle downhill. I figured some of the riders would sprint after they were on the other side and moved over to the right side of the lane. One rider, then another passed me back, but I slipped in on the wheel of the second rider, one I had shared much of the pull with on the way in, and soon rolled into the shop.

Several of the riders thanked me and the other guys at the front for the strong pull back in. I thanked them for a great ride, caught my breath and headed into the shop. I'm not sure at which point between then and when I went to take off for home, but I misplaced my gloves. Puzzeled, I looked for them briefly, then figured with the sale going on, now was as good of time as any to buy a new pair. So, I treated myself to a pair of PI Gel-Lite Race gloves and rode for home.

Next week, I look forward to hopefully doing the full 36mi ride, in my new shoes, and hopefully I won't be spit out the back on the way back.

kevinmcdade

Good idea, Jon!

I rode with the PBA OAS group today. All I really remember is that it was 52 miles, fast, and some nice hills.

The warmer weather is really bringing out the speed demons. There were 3 tandem teams on this ride with strong riders who really pushed the pace. The tandems always bring a bit of excitement to a ride. They are great to draft behind and a good team can make a group have to really work.

I started off a little tired from my 70 mile ride on Saturday but quickly got into a rhythm and zoned out the pain. The first 25 miles were tough with an average speed higher than usual. During the second half, there were two flats that slowed the group and the pace down a bit. There were still plenty of surges and hills that kept us on our toes.

All-in-all, the weather was beautiful and the ride was a blast. Even though it was a little chilly at the start it warmed up quickly.

cuda2k

Ride: Sunday Afternoon Distance Builder with the PBA. Starting from XL Cycle at 1:45pm.

My second ride for the weekend. This one was a lot of fun as well. Got up to XL Cycle in time to get ready and headed out with the DB group of probably around 20-24 including one tandem. Route was out to the McKinney Airport and back, including a good number of rolling hills on the way back in. Pack got broken up often on the climbs, but we stopped often to regroup. About half way back it was quite obvious that we had three groups, one that was doing 18, one that was doing 16, and one that was doing 13mph. We decided that the faster riders should go ahead and I took off with them.

"And then there were 12"

There were 3 or 4 riders that were sharing the lead of the new faster pack. I didn't know exactly how we were planning on getting back so I stayed in the group. More hills, more wind, more suffering. I tried to maintain a good smooth spin up most of the hills, but there was at least one that by the time we reached the top I was completely spent. Thankfully we soft pedaled for a moment before picking it back up to allow everyone to recover.

All in all, a very good ride. This was my first time out on the Flyte with the PBA, and the first time out on the chipseal roads on it. I perfer my steel for those roads, esp with the 3x 32spoke wheels doing their part, but the stiffer aluminum frame didn't beat me up too badly. And the bike certainly does like to climb when the road goes up, and crusing on the flats is smooth and effortless (when you don't have that nasty wind in your face anyways).

Distance: 34.9mi @ 16.5 mph. One lengthy rest stop about half way through, and probably a dozen or so regroups along the way.

All1NTao

The inordinate number of police officers and mobile flashing signs directing cyclists to the staging area announced which “Heroes” were benefiting from this “Ride for Heroes”. On this morning though, I was happy to have the assistance from the po-po. I foolishly didn’t listen to my loving wife but instead followed the directions given by the oracle: MapQuest. It was 8AM as I pulled into the parking lot with a scheduled 8:10AM start time. A quick tour of the rest room, a handful of GU’s in the jersey pocket and I reached the starting line just in time for the final bars of the National Anthem.

The breeze was soft and fresh after two days hard rain and the sun was reaching out with warming fingers into the cool morning air. Once released onto the course, my ears are filled with the metallic sounds of cleats floundering on pedals, then the reassuring symphony of clicks as cleats and pedals become one. I move through the group quickly determined to reach the leaders before we get out on the road.

The ride has a frantic element to it as riders come up looking for a lead group while trying to maintain the early fast pace. Another rider, an unnamed local destined to become an ally, and I decide to create a vessel for the savage swells that he foretells lie ahead. We quickly recruit a few other mates and form a group of 8 or so. I issue commands with a whipped tongue and we begin a rotating pace line increasing our speed as we tack into the wind.

We pick up and drop riders as we move up through the debris field caused by the early charge and the lead group. A PACC member, a rival team in Plano but welcome allies here, lends intelligence that he was dropped from the lead group and we are the second group on the road. The crew fluxes from 15 to 25 members as it splinters and regroups with each assent of the numerous swells of concrete and asphalt. The local and I maintain control of the motley band of two-wheeled swashbucklers. Leading by example, goading and commands we reform the paceline each time terrain and apathy conspire to dissolve our teamwork.

The climbs crash like waves on rocks coming one after another in succession. Others creaked and swayed on their machines climbing out-of-the-saddle burning energy in an attempt to muscle to the top. On each climb I found my rhythm, stayed on top of my gear and crested each hill in front of the other riders. The local warned me we were on a steep and tall climb, so I moved in front and took up a comfortable cadence. As the grade steepened, I watched the local’s shadow and kept him on my wheel climbing at a comfortable pace. “You can ease up now, you’ve shelled ‘em”, I heard the local say from behind. I glance back and see my group scattered down the face of the slope, rolling their bodies back and forth across their machines trying to keep pace.

I only stored provisions to cover half of the distance. By mile 45 our group had dwindled to a handful of swarthy buccaneers. They had no intentions of going ashore for leave, but I had to re-supply, so I pulled off and bid my comrades farewell. Having never been at the front of a bike rally before I found it odd that the feed station was empty, stocked full of eager volunteers, and bored photographers happily snapping pictures. The PACC rider came in a few moments later and we left together knowing we would need each other for the remainder of the day.

The race flyer boasted of a three and a half mile climb for the 75 mile route. It was a series of steep steps straddled by false flats which curled around a knoll keeping its’ pinnacle hidden from view. I had decided the mountain would not end, when I saw a bright reflective radio tower strutting in its’ ability to be taller yet than the hill. A valley rich with gold hues from the rising sun fell away from me in all directions. I was atop a small knoll surrounded by a hilly valley floor which reached across to larger hills rolling away in the distance. This is why I ride: that moment of serene glory when you eyes are filled with the world’s wonderment and the physical punishment has turned your body to ether.

The remainder of the ride slowly turned in a blur of fatigue, until the signs of an end invigorated the embers of hope. The final stats for the day: 75 miles, 4:03 hours, 18.5 MPH average over a very hilly course. For me personally a great ride and a good sign of things to come…

cuda2k

Fantastic report of what I'm sure was a very rough ride. I'm building up to my first 70+ mi ride, but I highly doubt my first attempt will be at 18.5mph. I'll be happy with 16 for the first go.

kevinmcdade

Good write up Mike!!! I wish I could have been there with you. Sounds like a great route. I'll go ahead and sign up for the Muenster Metric.

All1NTao

Thanks for the feedback on the story. If only every ride could feel that good...

Doggus

Just wondering who you are? I noticed you live in Allen too! Obviously you're not one of the red shirts according to your write up (nice btw...). Kevin called you 'Mike'. You ride Popsicle?

All1NTao

I try to ride Tues. and Thur. I ride for Matrix and normally wear their kit. From my profile you can view my myspace page.

Doggus

Did you ride 4/10? If so were you the one that, as we were headed down East Collins and passed those two women, one of them called the Matrix rider an 'Ass'? Not that I agreed with her at all...I couldn't figure out why she looked back and saw the train coming and she decided to block the lane and would not get out of the way. I asked whoever the Matrix guy was if she 'called you an ass?!?'. He said 'I think so'. Was that you?

RC_spinner

not sure if you intend this for solo training rides as well, but since its my first, here goes:

Took the 1500 onto the mean streets of Royse City and Fate tonight. It was the first time out of the neighborhood, hwy 66 just scares the crap outta me, so I headed east from the subdivison into town where the speed limit slows to 30mph. Headed south about 1/2 mile to IH 30 and took the service road west 4.5 miles to FM 551, mostly uphill, level out, uphill etc. Over the bridge and headed east for a moslty downhill ride to FM 548, back thorugh town and home.
The noise from highway traffic threw me for a loop and I kept looking over my left to see who was coming only to see nothing, and fooled the other way when not looking over shoulder. However a wide berth was given by most cars, a few though that cut it close by my standards.

when I got home and off the bike, one thing went through my head, "let's do this again"

Time in saddle:45:06
distance : 12.5(from truck odometer this morn)

Chris

cuda2k

Sounds like you're hooked Chris! The Cateye Mity 8 cyclometer is a great no-frills unit that you can pick up cheap so you can accurately keep track of milage and time as well as avg speed, max speed and total miles.

All1NTao

It had all the feeling of an away game. The weekend would include 17 hours of road travel, sleeping in strange places, tasty dining, bad weather, a good festival and a home field advantage. The original plan was simple: travel to Baton Rouge on Friday; spend the night with Bill’s sister; race on Saturday morning; travel to New Orleans for the French Quarter Festival and celebrate all night long. After crashing at Bill’s place leisurely drive the 8+ hours back to Dallas on Sunday.

The radar showed a squall line moving quickly across Texas toward Louisiana and the forecast was for rain during the race. Leaving early on Friday, I was able to stay ahead of the weather and arrive dry and hungry in Baton Rouge by dusk. Molly nourished us with heaping doses of homemade lasagna and red wine. Borrowing her son’s bed, I slept through the night with the sweet lullaby of the pouring rain.

As we approached the race course we astutely observed the absence of vehicles, bikes, signs and the usual fanfare. A local confirmed we were in the right place, and a phone call to Kyle Boudreaux, the race organizer, confirmed he was an idiot. Apparently Mr. Boudreaux had postponed the race until Sunday and had forgotten to update the website until this morning. Of course all the locals knew. The weather was cool with a mild misty rain, I was ready to race. They cancelled the race for this, and on the same weekend as Paris-Roubaix, what a damn shame!?!

It was a white knuckle ride weaving through traffic in downtown New Orleans on my new conversion fixie. Riding without brakes on a bike that cannot coast is a full sprint through the flowing vehicle jungle with only your ability to steer to avert disaster. We arrived safely enough at the French Quarter Festival to enjoy luscious live music, spicy Cajun cuisine, and many beers (for carbo loading only). The festival was laid back with the feeling of a family picnic and not a teen concert. Afterwards we headed to Coop’s Place for dinner and cocktails. Around midnight after eating another meal it occurred to me I may not be in peak condition for the following morning’s race.

After four hours sleep on the couch, I bided Bill farewell and shot north to Baton Rouge. The locals were out in force and showing their team colors. There was no popcorn stand in this ballpark, but I had the definite feeling I was the visiting team. This would be the third time trial held on this course this year and was a favorite spot for training. Home field advantage for my competition: check. Time trial bikes were as plentiful as sunflower seeds in a dugout, and I was about to race on my road rig. The home team was playing with aluminum bats, I was swinging wood, but we were all trying to go yard.

The course was a flat 10.5 mile loop with well maintained roads and windy. A perfect time trial course, but I was really wishing for a few hills. Despite the debauchery of the night before, I felt pretty good on the course. Without battering winds, swelling hills, and direct competition I found it difficult to get into the red zone which always leaves the nagging question: “Did I leave it all on the course?”

I rode to my best time 21 miles in 56:18 minutes with an average speed of 22.38 MPH. I placed 10th out of a field of 16. Only 1 minute separated my time from the third place time…so close.

All1NTao

I don't think so, but those rides are pretty fast and crazy. I ride a stripped Ti frame with black bits and pieces. I will be out there tonight if the weather holds.

MPH2

Dusty Dew Clouds

Dusty dew clouds clung close to their mother and rambled across the fields like listless apparitions. The mercury held just above freezing and the damp fingers of the fog infiltrated the layers of miracle fabric putting a chill on the skin. In a fog this dense medieval armies would pass one another never being aware of the others presence. Even in a metropolis, it is quiet on these crisp mornings when civilians stay tucked by the hearth dreaming of excuses for missing Sunday services.

Like soldiers in the pressing dawn we pulled on our armor, mounted spoked steeds, pushed off and disappeared into the billowing curtains of white. An early strong pace shook off the shivers and created some warmth stretching into the fingers. As we rode through the cloud, lenses beaded with moisture and evolved into mini waterfalls just in front of your eyes. The beaded dew created goatees and eyebrows on everyone faces and a white sheen on everyone’s clothing.

After passing the neighborhoods of ticky-tacky we reached the farmsteads of Lucas and Allen. The rows of the fields, still dormant from last season, reached away from us and disappeared into the cold fog. Steeples and tree tops tried to assert their magnificence by poking out of the snowy pillows only to be swallowed again. A white horse with brown spots surreally stood out from the cloud of mist that both framed and hid it from view. The horse may have been enjoying the quiet of the morning, as it did not comment at our passing, or it may have been a dream at the edge of a cold and oxygen deprived consciousness.