100 By Christmas

Achieved! With ten hours to spare. Ride #100 of 2013 is now behind me.

35 F at 2:00, December 24, 2013, Lemonstar

Just a week ago it seemed inconceivable that two more rides would be possible. There was a foot of snow on the ground and waking temperatures hovered around zero. But by the day before Christmas, a melt-back had taken place and skies dawned clear, blue, bright, and radiant with sun.

However, as is often the pattern here in central Massachusetts, the bright morning sun gave way to the "high gauzies," an ashy thin cloud cover that dulled the sun's brightness and hid the blue sky. By 1:00 the sharpness of the day had given way to a skein of gray like the color of paper wasp nests. But the temps were above freezing, the roads, despite two prior days of Dickensian rain & drizzle, were dry, and Shad was ready to ride.

I headed west, into the hills, a Sholan Loop of Plenty.

Sholan Farm, December 24, 2013

There was little traffic. People were elsewhere. The dependable tarmac sliced across the landscape; past the apple trees, craggy and grasping; past the community garden with its old brittle sunflower stalk sentries, resigned in the cold; past the sign declaring Sholan Farm closed for the season; and into the forest and down the hill and further into the wilds of Sterling and Princeton.

Closed for the Season

There's a Norwegian adage that says "there's no bad weather, only bad clothing." I'd say, "only bad cycling clothes." Dressed properly, you stay warm and dry and there's no discomfort at all. Only bitter cold is hard to overcome. I've dressed well for most rides this year though I actually overdressed today and had to shed my bright orange windbreaker not long into the ride. Definitely a PBR day though.

Shad Rides 100, December 24, 2013, Lemonstar

All season biking for fun is one thing, but these folks in Colorado go to extremes, challenging themselves in the Icy Bike Winter Commuter Challenge. You really need the right gear to do this kind of thing, not to mention gumption, grit, and a streak of determined madness.

Instead, for me it's the solitude of the midday meander, the peace of steady rhythmic pedaling through the empty roadways in the hills beyond the city limits. The ride as meditation. The ride as a diamond razor. The ride as a declaration of Living and a metaphor of Being. The road continually unfolding ahead, beckoning, urging you onward, promising nothing that isn't already in your own imagination, that isn't already part of your own wisdom cache. The road delivers you to yourself.

Following the Road

2013 draws to a close. I began the year in pain, my bloated self a repository of residual angst, anger, and grief. I had no high hopes for the year; I merely hoped to avoid surgical procedures and hospital stays. And then something strange began to unfold. I made a commitment to myself to get better, to feel better, to change. I started to track what I ate at livestrong. I went to a Buddhist meditation retreat at Zen Mountain Monastery and learned to sit still. I lost 20 lbs. I began riding in earnest, with focus, with joy.

Now, at the end of my one hundredth ride of 2013, I am more than I was at the beginning of the year, but burdened with less baggage. Through cycling, I continue to learn who I am. Like bicycle wheels powered by determined legs, my life roles onward powered by a determined spirit.

Just Returned from Ride # 100
Eager for the Year to Come

Ride Stats: # 100, 24.64 miles (39 km), 12.9 mph, 1H 43M in the saddle. 35 degrees F to start, 33 at ride's end.

Ninety-Nine!

Bless the capricious New England weather. When I got up Tuesday morning, December 17, the temperature was .1 degree F (-17 C). It 'warmed' throughout the day, reaching almost 15 F (-9 C). But it snowed too. Heavily. By Tuesday night, 8 inches of snow of the finest kind - powdery, fluffy, granular, light as air - had fallen. Peering out and watching it snow, I admitted defeat in my goal of reaching 100 rides by Christmas.

Yet four days later, after shifting fronts, varying winds, warming trends, and two days of sustained temperatures above freezing, Saturday heats up to 55+ F (12+ C), a wan sun shines through the ashy clouds (they remind me of the clouds cover over the Somme or Verdun in 1916), and the roads are ice-free. Classic New England about face.

55 Degrees F, Good for Riding

To my delight. Ride # 99 is a gift unforeseen. And what a fine ride! Despite the sloppy & muddy crossing of rt. 2 and having to navigate a hell web of holiday mall traffic, when I'm on the other side of the maelstrom I am riding happily and all alone along little traffic'd back roads through semi-rural Lunenburg and my own home town. Not quite a PBR day (though I tucked the paper bag inside anyway), I'm almost too warm. It's fantastic.

Lemonstar, Not the Somme or Verdun

The Crust performs flawlessly. I've always loved Specialized bikes and this one is a joy to ride. Stable. Comfortable. Zippy. Responsive.

The one thing I don't have on the Crust, however, is a fender. So today, knowing that with the road side snow piles there'd be snow melt streams, I positioned a plastic shopping bag inside my tights, spreading it out to literally cover my ass. 'Ingenious!' I thought and it actually proved to be effective. I didn't get butt-soaked.

The other consideration besides watery run-off today (and for the next few months) is sand. It's a hazard and complete mindfulness is a must. Winter riding in these conditions means riding conservatively. Scrod's unfortunate crash last month proved to be a Zen cudgel, whacking me squarely in the Consciousness and reminding me to ride with focus and care.

Mindful Shad

Interestingly, before taking off on ride # 99, my beloved ND fairly pleaded with me not to go, telling me that she had a bad feeling about this ride and didn't want me to ride. She was straying into "manifest the occurrence of that which you fear" territory and I had to reassure her with casual bravado not to worry & that everything would be all right (even though her talk of danger had begun to spook me).

And in the end? Everything was fantastic! The wan sun. The empty melting sandy roadways. The snow depths shrinking in the woods and fields. Periodic blasts of cool air off the snow banks. Raw wet farm land. Picturesque town commons, church and town hall as white as the snow cover.

Shad's Hometown Commons, December 21, 2013

Ride Stats: Ride # 99, 24.95 miles (40 km), 14.2 mph, 1 hour 20 mins (more or less). Wet & sandy but fairly warm, 55+ degrees F.

Two Shy of 100

A dusting of snow earlier in the week foretold the likely end to riding this calendar year, and then a fairly serious snowstorm Saturday night, December 14th made it a certainty.

Sunday Morning Out My Front Door
Lemonstar, December 15, 2013

I won't manage to notch 100 rides in 2013 but that's okay. It's been a triumphant year in many ways not least of which is having learned how to lose weight and curtail my gluttonous maw. I'm ending the year 20 pounds lighter than I began it last January. This bodes well for 2014.

The key for the next couple months is to maintain focus & discipline. I want to be ready to go as soon as I can safely ride the roads again. There will surely be spotty opportunities in January or February, there almost always are each year. Yes, one year we had almost no snow and I was riding in bunches in January. Other years, when there's heavy snowfall, consistent riding may not happen until April. But there always seems to be one or two days in the winter months where the snow has melted back enough and the roads are no longer icy at the edges and it's reasonably safe to ride. But a couple rides scattered across 60-90 days doesn't cut it in terms of keeping in shape.

Life is a roll of the dice and weather is impersonal. The goal is to control one's own debauch through the cold, dark months and then emerge on the other side, in the spring, with enthusiasm and energy for the road.

Freezing at Landmark Storage, Ride # 98

I wanted at least one ride this weekend and I got it, although it almost didn't happen. I squandered a chance to ride on Friday, a day I took off from work rather spontaneously (I had errands to do, food to procure, things that took precedent over riding). Plus, I thought it was going to rain but it turned out not to and the roads dried out and as I was driving toward Boston at midday, all hopes for changing plans scrapped, it was 50 degrees and overcast and utterly conducive to riding.

Then Friday night it began to rain and as the temperature dropped the rain became sleet and then finally snow in the early a.m. so that when I woke Saturday morning there was a white coating of snow over everything, and icy roads. I thought, 'Crap! I should have ridden yesterday and now I won't get to ride this weekend at all.'

Sunday Morning December 8, Lemonstar Starting Line

But then Sunday dawned clear and cold (24 F at 7:30 a.m.) and the thought began to grow in my mind that I might actually be able to ride today. I was fuzzy from whooping it up last night with guests & dinner but I thought that if anything could clear my mind and get me back on track it would be an icy winter ride. By 11:00 a.m. the temperature had climbed to 30 F so I suited up (long underwear bottoms, bike shorts, tights; upper body long underwear, a zip up short sleeve bike jersey, a polyprop turtleneck, a fleece pullover, a zip-up insulated over garment; 2 balaclavas; winter gloves; booties), and launched.

Landmark Storage, 32 Degrees

Oh, and I made the bike switch. It's the Crust now, from here on out. And how sweet! It's like riding in a luxury car, a Cadillac, a Lincoln Town Car. The wider tires cushion the harshness of the road; the gearing is perfect for climbing; the wide aluminum tubing and carbon fiber fork absorb road vibrations. And because of its durability and stability, you don't have to worry about your line when riding and when cars approach from behind; pot holes, cracks, sand, rough surface, the Crust handles it all, the tires are sturdy and the rims super strong, you can ride flush to the roadside and not be concerned with crashing or flatting out.

Leaving the 'hood

Route 2 Eastbound, Lancaster, MA

So ride # 98 unfolded with a meander through the 'hood en route out of town to the south (instead of west), climbing up and away from the local mall (long known as "Sears Town" to locals but re-dubbed "The Mall at Whitney Fields" by Orwellian developers), then a long climb out of Lemonstar toward Gove Farm and the road that parallels rt.2. in Lancaster. Cross rt. 2 and go on toward Shirley and past the gravel company. Dirty gray sky, like the loss of innocence.

Not breaking any speed records to be sure but speed isn't the point of these winter rides. Now, it's all about getting out and grabbing some road time while it's available. It's about standing up and riding with a steady rhythm up long hills; it's about spinning with focused attention and taking care and notice in every second; it's about burning calories and keeping the body lean.

In that sense, the ride is a triumph. I am warm (another ride for which I dressed perfectly; definitely a PBR). I am comfortable. There's a New England Patriots game on at 1:00 so the roads are mostly free of cars. The sun never comes out but does sullenly glare through the dingy cottony cloud cover. Visibility is good. The Crust is velvet-like, buttery, the chain slides over the chain rings in silence, I can stand and pedal and maintain a relentless low gear rhythm; I could grind uphill indefinitely, I can tap into the same rhythm that I established during the Assault on East Hill during the D2R2 this past August. It's a Zen-like confident turning of pedals and revolution of wheels; hard enough that the body knows it's working but not so hard that the body's energy diminishes in the effort. A comfortable relentless grind of savage pleasure. I will ride this way for hours (I think) ....

But I don't. Friends are coming for lunch in a couple hours, I have to get home and rub salt & pepper into the ribeye, have to trim the brussel sprouts, have to watch the Patriots game against the visiting Cleveland Browns. I have to live off the bike.

In the last couple miles I'm climbing up an old cracked and worn farm road toward a more major road that'll take me to a road with stoplights and a clear shot past the gas stations, the Jiffy Lube, Athens Pizza, Magic Fuels, the Hess Station (not Rudolph), over the Nashua River, back over rt. 2 again, through the lights to Priest St and then left onto Harrison St and home ... but before all that I pause along the roadside to gaze out across a big tract of farmland, a sullen sun trying to carve its way through a gray blanket sky. I would not be here to see this, I realize, if I weren't riding a bike.

A Sullen Sun and Sigh Lows

Ride Stats: Ride # 98, basically an hour; 14 mph, 14 miles, 60 minutes in the saddle; 32 degrees at departure, it never warmed up.

Charly Gaul and "The Rider"

Just finished Tim Krabbe's "The Rider," a book that the Mighty Scrod suggested we read together. Given that he finished the book over a week ago, that means that I'm the Lantern Rouge of this non-competitive collaborative effort.

Of many, many things I enjoyed about the book, one was coming across the role that Charly Gaul plays in it, Charly Gaul being one of the great climbers of all time. He died in 2005 and I made mail art from his New York Times obituary (which was written by the great cycling sportswriter, Samuel Abt).

Charly Gaul Obituary Mail Art, 2005, front

Charly Gaul, Obituary Mail Art, 2005, rear

Note to Scrod - will take up the discussion of "The Rider" on Ventoux Calls soon.

Ride # 97, Crust or No Crust

December in New England can be cruel - snowstorms, ice storms, freezing rain. But it can also be like it was two days ago for ride # 97, which is to say almost 50 degrees and mostly sunny. I took advantage of it and enjoyed a spirited 85 minute roust-about in the west Lemonstar & Sterling hills.

Into the Lemonstar Hills, December 3, 2013

I'd considered making the inevitable seasonal bike switch before the ride. In fact, I went so far as to switch my little saddle bag & blinking light to the Crust thinking that the time had come. But just as I was locking the door to set out, the sun came out in full late afternoon low slant warmth and irie light and I thought, fuck it, I'm staying with the road bike. I wanted the sleek arrow feel, I didn't want the whompy whir whir of wide tires on pavement. So I swapped the bag & light again, and also, enthused by the sun, shed one layer of upper body garb.

Sterling, MA, December 3, 2013

Turns out that taking the layer off was the right move but I might have been better served on the Crust. As soon as I started climbing into the hills, the roads became pretty sandy. D'oh! Just two days prior there'd been drizzly conditions that froze overnight and caused dangerously slick roads and the town DPW crews had been out sanding heavily. So for my purposes, I'd have surely been safer with a wider tire with some tread like those on the Crust. But nothing bad happened, I didn't crash, I was just extra cautious on some of the downhill cornering.

Sterling, MA,  Up Hill

Today, as I write, it's been raining, and tomorrow there's more rain in the forecast. Then it turns colder over the weekend, highs in the 30s, though mostly dry. If I'm going to make 100 rides by Christmas, I need to get at least one in this weekend.

Ride Stats: 19.59 miles (31 km), 14.1 mph, 1H 24M, some sun, mild. Tuesday, December 3.

Giving Thanks, Rides 95 and 96

That I was able to get out on Thanksgiving Day (for a solo ride) and the day after (with NJ Uncle Steve, he of the 68+ years and he of the 5000 miles ridden this year) is enough for a shouted THANKS to the powers that be - the Bike Gods, the Life Gods, the God Gods, the Ganesh and Krishna and Buddha Gods, whatever. I'm still riding this late in the year and as I scribe this blog entry it's December 1st and I almost managed to get the third ride of the Holiday break in today but today, alas, was cold & raw, 34 degrees, drizzling, a miserable, Dickensian downer of a raw Londonesque day. Instead of notching ride #97 and paring away a thousand calories, I noshed on cheese & crackers & Belgian ale and watched the New England Patriots come from behind (again) and win a football game.

But Thanksgiving Day was different, all the cooking was well in hand by 11:00 AM and voila, a window of sunny opportunity presented itself so I got my proverbial shit together and took to the road for an hour. Actually, for one hour and four minutes, enough to feel euphoric.

Pile of Garb

Shad with Bike, Giving Thanks

The Halfway Point, Thanksgiving Day Ride 2013

Thanksgiving Day, Ride # 96

The day after Thanksgiving dawned in brightness and sub-freezing temperatures. Uncle Steve (my beloved's Uncle, in town visiting Mama D, my mother-in-law) brought his bike with him. Steve is retired now and manages to log oh let's say 5000 miles per year en bicyclette. He is a mad man, a savage, though the predominance of his miles come from long group rides touring, a hundred miles a day of leisure-paced ambling to get from point A to point B in order to get up the next day and get to point C. That sort of thing. Which is not to take anything away from him. At 69, he could, if pressed, probably take me to school. Yes, I can drop him on one of the West Leo Hills but were it to come down to mile-to-mile, a question of dutiful distance, he would kick my ass. He's got the distance thing down. I'm constrained by lack of time. I simply don't have extended hours to put in on the bike. I've had to hone my riding fitness to the time trial style - a limited amount of time to ride means that I get out there and hammer.

It was just freezing (32 degrees F) when we left. Multiple layers. The paper bag. Now I categorize rides as PBRs or not. A PBR day is a Paper Bag Ride meaning that it's cold enough that stuffing a paper bag between your layers is well-advised. But we were both dressed properly and we were both comfortable. My fingers were chilled at the start but even they warmed up after the first spirited hill climb.

Of course we went west, into the hills. Fewer cars. Prettier. Safer. Besides, Uncle Steve hails from Elisabeth, NJ, not exactly the most sylvan riding terrain, so when he comes up here to Lemonstar I feel it incumbent upon me to take him into the real Massachusetts countryside. So we did a Sholan Loop with the added section of Tuttle Rd (a wonderful extension of farmland and back country riding). And it was great. Sharp. A pristine day of air clarity. A good day to log some miles. And when we returned, turkey sandwiches. Allez!

Shad and Uncle Steve

Shadow Shad

Now the raw ending of the holiday weekend slides down upon me this Sunday night, a wretched icy froth in Lemonstar, the cold unpleasant reality of work tomorrow, a thousand losses, one hundred deaths by ennui, a cradle of plenty and a footlocker of loss. There are plateaus and peaks, valleys and troughs. There is the run to the Sun and the dismantling of one's self-respect. There are decisions to be made, limited resources, meat haunches to cook, bottles of empty promises to consume. There is the debauch of living larded with the lean fat of spiritual awakening. 

Each ride is a raw accomplishment. I give thanks for that. If I have moved my debased self over 15 miles on the thinnest of rubber tires, then I have moved my Self forward. I have avowed to Live and have fulfilled the promise of Life for another day.

Ride Stats: # 95, 14.7 miles, 13.6 mph, 1 H 4 M, 32 degrees.

                   # 96 22.19 miles, 13.6 mph, 1.39.17, 32 degrees and less. Both days sunny.