Setting Out

Later in the season when you're in pretty good form, and if you've got no nagging little injuries, the first few miles of any ride are fantastic. When you set out you feel strong, your bike is a fine-tuned machine, you're confident and eager, you're not yet fatigued or slippery with sunbeam sweat.

So it's been for me lately. Like yesterday's 30 mile ride. Sunny, hot weather, the sun still a considerable force even though it's now lower in the sky earlier in the afternoon. I set out around 3:30 PM and felt terrific. And I took a chance of riding out of town via Holden and Brattle St.s, both of which had been grated over and unpaved as of two weeks ago.

There's good news! Holden St, Brattle St and Shrewsbury St have now all been paved. They are rough and dangerous no longer!

Shrewsbury St, paved at last!

Eventually I made my way to Causeway St in Holden, a true gem of a road, nearly bereft of cars.

The beginning of Causeway St in Holden

For a long while I rode alone on this street, several miles probably. Me, the sun, the green, the hum of late summer emanating from the New England roadside botanical abundance. At one point I saw some turkeys.

Turkeys

And then there was the farm.

Climbing toward the farm

Past the farm buildings and cresting the hill

Looking back, over the shoulder

The return part of the ride brought me past the Worcester Airport from the opposite side that I'm used to, which is the Big Climb up from Mill St. Today, it was Cat 4 downhill. It too has recently been paved, it's now like a slightly oily but luxuriant static river of sweet licorice un-flowing down the hillside.

Back on the Paved Roads

The D2R2 is always a welcomed event at the end of the summer, a chance to get off the pavement and into rougher terrain. And yet the abrupt transition from pavement to gravel, including the shift to a slightly heavier bike (in my case, the Crux Elite cyclocross rig vs the now-well-used-but-still-dependable Allez Comp racing bike), is always a little challenging.

But it's only for one day because while the D2R2 sort of marks the end of summer, it also serves as the harbinger of autumn - and autumn road riding with its cooler temperatures (generally) and incipient psychedelic foliage is ever a joy. Since the D2R2 10 days ago, I've returned to the tarmac and enjoyed several rides, including a spirited Monday night ramble with the Barney's Bikes guys last night (August 31).

Indeed, yesterday was hot and that may have limited the number of riders on the evening group ride; earlier this summer there'd been upwards of two dozen and more but last night we were probably around 15 in number. Not having ridden in a few days, I was fresh and eager to get the blood pumping and the heart firing. That I did.

Regardless of how I'm feeling, I try to stay toward the front of these rides, try to keep up with the better, stronger, younger riders (of which more than half the group usually fits that description). On good days, I'm right there with them; on off nights, I labor mightily but get dropped.

Last night, I jumped away with three other guys on the uphill run to the reservoir, even managing to hold the wheel of the first place guy as we hammered up the slight but considerable incline to the beginning of the long freshly-paved shoreline wrap-around. My advantage, if I have one, is climbing. Smaller than most of the other guys, I can generally keep a steady pace on the climbs, even if it's not super fast, while other guys labor and lose momentum. But in the flats, particularly on long, moderately rolling runs, I cannot generate the necessary power to hang with the powerhouses.

As was the case last night. After my (self)-impressive wheel-shadowing up to the reservoir, our foursome revved up and, despite my best effort, fairly quickly became a threesome. I brought up the rear about thirty yards behind.

Pulling away from Dubstoevsky

I enjoy the Monday night group rides, though I haven't really bonded with anyone other than Peter, the organizer and the owner of Barney's. Thankfully, the competitive spirit seems to be all in good fun, no one taking themselves too seriously, so you can challenge each other and not have the testosterone flare into an angry thing. Just a chance to test yourself against others.

Plus, I push myself harder when riding with others. Not that my solo rides are easy or that I cop a lazy attitude toward them - it's just that there's something about trying to hold the wheel of someone storming uphill at 16 or 17 mphs that pushes the body to give the extra oomph and thrust. It's a healthy thing.

In addition to last night's ride, I've done three other solo jaunts since the D2R2, two of which included the Cat 4 Worcester Airport climb (another stretch of sweet new tarmac, black and smooth and flawless).

Nearing the top of the Airport Climb

It's been a pretty dry summer, perfect days for cycling but not so perfect for the water supply. Here are a couple shots of one of the Kettle Brook Reservoirs, taken August 27th.

Kettle Brook, looking north

Same reservoir, looking south

The Holden Reservoir isn't quite as low. I snapped the following pictures last night as I trailed after the leading three.

Holden Reservoir, Monday night August 31

Holden Reservoir, looking south

D2R2 2015: Part II

Team Shad in the saddle

As the sun climbs higher and the temperature rises, as the hills grow steeper and longer, as the miles fall away under our tires, I let go of details and specifics. The Virginian handles the navigational duties as he's not only an eleven time D2R2 veteran but these roads are, to a degree, known to him, they're in his wheelhouse, they're local to him.

160K riders

Around mile 50, I feel the first twinges of cramping in my quads and so begin to really focus on my pedaling. After years of riding, I've become adept at recognizing the subtleties of positioning and technique; I can discern, and therefore direct, where the power of the thrust comes from.

When climbing, am I out of the saddle and relying on the thunder of the quads to generate the power? What if I sit down, shift forward on the seat, and sort of scrouch over the handlebars; can I shift the power focus to the calves and hips? Yes. I can also employ the "clawing" technique whereby I concentrate on the front downward thrust and upward pull back, imagining my toes as claws digging into turf, pulling, then thrusting hard off the claw hold. This alleviates the quad-heavy thrusting that comes natural when out of the saddle on an ascent, but it's also tiring and, on very steep ascents, nearly impossible to maintain. You have to get out of the saddle and hammer at certain points.

Thank goodness for Friday's rain. Where many of the climbs would have been loose sandy gravel, today they are more or less packed down. You're able to get out of the saddle and not spin out. Otherwise, you would have had to stay seated in order to keep weight on the rear wheel and maintain traction, but the hills being as steep as they are, I'm sure I could not have stayed seated so would have inevitably had to hike up certain inclines. As it turned out, I never had to get off the bike and walk.

One of the long, gradual grinds

So the last 12 miles before lunch I spend babying my quads, constantly adjusting my position in the saddle, coasting as much as possible, and generally trying to keep my legs from seizing up. It works! Around mile 62, the small lunch stop appears, there are twenty or so cyclists already there, bikes strewn about and tired, brightly-clad riders lounging on the grass. The Virginian and I drop our bikes in the bushes and attend to fueling up.

As promised, there's garlic aioli to spread on the made-to-order ham or turkey or hummus wraps. There's also pasta salad and an array of snacks like M&Ms, Fig Newtons, pickles, potato chips, and, blessedly, cans of Coke. Now, I normally drink a Coke maybe once a year and I've been avoiding potato chips for like two years but today I inhale both a Coke and a bag of chips. And a ham wrap. And a pickle and a package of Newtons.

And I make a key hydration substitute. At the first rest stop I'd mixed a bottle of sport drink but had used too much powder; the result was way too sweet, so much so that it sorta' made me nauseous. So at lunch, I dumped the rest of that concoction and switched to a mix of pickle juice and water. Salty, with twinges of vinegar, it tasted better than the sports drink solution and helped to actually alleviate some of the stomach discomfort that's a byproduct of consuming so much sugary energy supplements.

The Virginian in his glory

Lunch finished, two thirds of the ride in the books, The Virginian and I gear up and push on. Immediately after lunch, you zoom down a long, fast descent to the floor of a valley in Charlemont. "Sweet!" you think to yourself, "Nothing like a zinging bullet train to bury a few quick miles!"

But once a descent like that hits the valley floor, in the D2R2 you can be sure that a massive climb is the next order of business. In this case, we're talking East Road.

Now, East Road is a special climb for me, ever since the fabled "Assault on East Road" from the 2013 D2R2 (chronicled here). That was the time that The Virginian and I reeled in four guys who'd whizzed by us a half mile before the base of the climb; we'd been stopped at the side of the road taking a picture of some sunflowers when the foursome had zoomed past. Though they had a five minute start on us, we reeled them back one by one and cranked passed them, demoralizing them on the merciless slopes of East Rd. Much of this, my self-declared "finest day of my cycling life," was captured on The Virginian's video camera which he'd mounted on his rear fork (footage available at above link).

There would be no such heroics on East Road today. Depending on how you measure it, the total climb runs to three miles and, though gradually steady for much of it, in places the grade tips up sharply, at one point about two thirds to the summit, it veers up to 13.1%. And, despite the rain and the "perfect conditions," there are a couple places where the surface is not compact, and loose sand and stone force you back into the saddle to avoid spinning out.

The Strava segment of East Rd is called Backside of Berkshire East. It takes me 29 minutes to climb to the top. At one point, I think at the 13% grade, I am going so slow I don't know how I stay upright. It takes all my will and concentration to stay on the bike, to keep turning the cranks, to not get off and walk. I don't want to get off, I don't want to admit defeat, to further sully the memory of my once-upon-a-time accomplishment on this sacred climb. It's bad enough that I labor mightily just to stay on the bike; think of the ignominy of having to get off and push the Crux Elite.

I avoid that dread fate and manage to grind to the summit without ditching, though at one point I begin cramping, not in the legs but in my right shoulder and right tricep. Then it becomes a struggle to balance one handed while letting go with the cramping arm and holding it at different positions, including swinging it around trying to get the blood flowing. Upper body cramping becomes a concern the rest of the ride. I end up repeatedly taking my hands off the handlebars, sitting upright, waving my arms, alleviating the stress of gripping the bars too tightly.

At the top of East Rd, we pause and gather ourselves. Even The Virginian concedes that "Maybe we were a bit cocky about East Rd." We'd been taking excitedly about the climb for weeks. We'd imagined that we'd use the climb again as a launch pad, that we'd drop anyone who dared try riding with us, that we'd repeat our bravura performance of two years ago.

Then The Virginian drops a bomb.

"I even rode this climb earlier this year, in May, and it didn't seem as hard. And I was on my road bike."

Say what? A fucking road bike?! "Are you insane??" I asked with a mixture of admiration and incredulity.

He shrugged. "Yeah, I don't know, it was almost easier on a road bike, it's hard to explain."

Yes, it IS hard to explain. In fact, I can't imagine it. Nor will I ever know what it's like as I would never attempt East Rd on a road bike. But The Virginian is a special sort, as we've seen before.

The Virginian, much earlier in the ride, still fresh

East Rd conquered (albeit in humble fashion), we turn our attention to the stretch run, about twenty five more miles or so. Lots of rolling terrain, a modicum of pavement, mostly dirt roads, a lot of it descending. Though not all. One or two tricky stretches challenge my stamina and my crampy upper body but the terrain is fun, the rutty wood roads completely overhung with a canopy of green (as many miles have been today), and the climbs of short enough duration not to be killers.

By this point in the ride, the riders have splintered and drifted far apart. Earlier, you'd come upon a handful of riders not infrequently, or some would ride up and pass us. But now, we encounter almost no one else. We roll along largely by ourselves, enjoying the solitude, doing quiet solo battle with our own bodies, managing the discomfort while exulting in the realization that today's gargantuan challenge draws to an end.

And then we're there, Deerfield, the big green fields, the huge tent, the bee hive hum of activity, riders coming in, cars pulling out, the whole spectacle alive in the booming late afternoon sun that now shines unadulterated from a cloudless sky. AH!

And just as the morning was organized with a martial yet earthy-crunchy exactitude, so too is the afternoon after-ride party. The beer line is long though it moves quickly, the food line is short and accessible, the huge covered tent lined with tables and seats produces a dull roar of banter from five hundred or so contented enthusiasts, all scarfing dinner and sluicing Berkshire Brewing Company ales.

So Team Shad joins the celebration.

Team Shad at the table of champions

Back to D2R2 2015: Part I

D2R2 2015: Part I

All week leading up to Saturday we'd followed the weather forecast closely, concerned about the rainy front predicted to move into the area just in time for the weekend. But there's something so good and so karmically right about the D2R2 that the rainy front upped its pace and rolled through the region on Friday, a day early.

The result? Dusty gravel roads compacted and smoothed over, the humidity greatly tempered, the air freshened and cleaned. In short, utterly perfect conditions.

Saturday came for me at 4:10 AM when I woke in the Woo, made a double shot latte, loaded the gear & the Crux Elite, and set off at 5:00. 122 north through Paxton, Rutland, Barre, Petersham was empty at that hour and as dawn crept across the sky sending its light through the forests on either side, I flew toward Deerfield with Live Dead filling the Shad Wagon.

In a little more than and hour, I arrived. Mist drifted off the fields, the sky brightened, the multi-colored tents from the campground stood out in the emerald green expanse.

About 6:15 AM

One hallmark of this event is how well organized it is. Everything is taken care of. A policeman directs cars onto the designated parking field where volunteers motion them into neat rows. The registration tent is spacious, long tables with boxes of registrant packets organized alphabetically. The dining tent presents tables of food - scrambled eggs, hard-boiled eggs, oatmeal, muffins, bananas, peanut butter & jelly, coffee. I'm parked, checked-in, got my bib & chip on (#743), and am getting my bike off the roof rack within 15 minutes of arriving.

Seamless organization

I also find The Virginian right away. He didn't park his car because he didn't bring his car. As if doing an all day 160K ride wasn't enough, he opted to ride from his home perched in the hills of Conway down to Deerfield, probably ten miles or so, in the pre-dawn gloaming.

"It's all down hill," he replies, shrugging off my expression of incredulity. The Virginian. He's the kind you want as a teammate. Nothing phases him.

At 7:10, we roll through the starting gate. The timing mechanism bleeps twice, recognizing our bib chips, and we're officially underway. The air is cool but comfortable, 61 degrees or so. No need for the arm warmers I bought in anticipation of a soggy, overcast day. Nor the sleeveless windbreaker. It's gonna' be gorgeous all day, that's evident even as we speed along the first ten miles of pavement, heading toward the hills.

Randonneur Extraordinaire

A few other riders had departed close to when we did and we all coalesced at one point and rode together for while. Most of the routes follow similar roads and periodically overlap but the 160K is pretty distinct and spins out on its own. We would encounter many of the same riders throughout the day, alternately passing and being passed, or exchanging notes and expressions of enthusiasm at rest stops and lunch.

Unfortunately for the purposes of Shad Rides, the little pocket camera I carry to document these adventures crapped out not long after we set out, maybe two hours or so into the ride, so the visual evidence of today's ramble is necessarily limited. Nevertheless, it was still working as we hit the first stretch of dirt road.

A couple of 160K riders getting the first taste of the good stuff

And just like that, we were into the terrain that puts the "Dirt Road" in "Deerfield Dirt Road Randonee," and we'd stay on it for the better part of seven hours. By necessity, there would be stretches of pavement that stitched the course together (mostly empty country roads in the hills) but there would also be broken down old farm roads, craggy forest passageways, gnarly rutted tracks tumbling down steep slopes or climbing upward toward unseen ridges, gravelly ridge roads that offered sweeping views across valleys, long empty stretches of fields. We would see Mt. Monadnock, Mt. Greylock, and a myriad of lesser mountains and hills we didn't know the names of.

Craggy forest road

Farm road under cerulean sky

Gravel style

The 160K, though not the longest, is arguably as hard as the 180K, particularly the pre-lunch route. Much of the major climbs come before the lunch break, and lunch doesn't happen until the 62 mile point. That's a long morning with some exceptional hills. Packers Corner Rd at the 18 mile mark kicks things off with a long 1 mile ascent that breaks up the group of some ten riders that we'd been cruising with. The Virginian and I move off the front and climb away from the rest.

At the 40 mile point comes the rest stop, it's at the familiar covered bridge alongside a languid river where I remember eating lunch the first time I rode the D2R2 back in 2011. Perfect timing; we're tired, hungry, and our water bottles need filling. I've sworn to be more conscientious about eating and hydrating this year so I've drank a lot already and was ready for a refill.

Familiar covered bridge

The first rest stop, 40 miles in

My 'Steal Your Face' jersey catches the attention of a cyclist who comes up to me and says "Hey, I like your jersey." Unfortunately, just a moment before, I'd inhaled a crumbly piece of hard boiled egg yoke and was desperately trying to clear my throat and not choke. What followed was a comical, if awkward, conversation with Wyatt, from Townsend, MA (two towns over from where I grew up).

"Townsend?" (hack hack) "I grew up near there."

"Did you see any of the Fare Thee Well shows?" Wyatt asks.

(Cough, choke, eyes running) "Uhm, no" (hack) ".... but I watched the last one on TV."

"My family made a road trip out of it, we drove to Chicago, camping along the way. Then my wife and her friend went to the last show. It was fantastic!"

"That's great!" I hack, "sweet!" Cough! Cough! Oy.

Wyatt seems unfazed by my distress, expresses how much he likes this ride, and tells me that he's here for the hills. "I have a thing for climbing, you know?"

I know. I feel the same way. Between two final prodigious hacks, I tell him I relish the climbing too and wish him a bon velo.

Hydration station

D2R2 2015: Part II

On the Eve of the D2R2

May I prove as stout and resolute on tomorrow's ride
as these venerable pines in Shutesbury

Humid in the Woo tonight, the sky is trying to clear. There's water in the air. I'm glad not to be camping at the D2R2 campground, though on a clear cool night that sounds like it would be fun. The vibe would surely be festive & friendly, respectful, and no doubt a little weirdly intense. Probably a lot similar to race day itself.

As mentioned in yesterday's posting, this will be my fourth time participating in this extraordinary event. Huge PRAISE to the organizers and the Franklin Land Trust, you've created a fantastic tradition.

Here's an indicator of why this event is so special. In an email to all the riders (approximately 1,160 riders) concerning the food, the hosts wrote:

First, at breakfast, we were surprised that, far and away, the biggest request was oatmeal. Ladies and gentlemen, we have added it to the menu. You guys are too easy ...

Lunch is getting the biggest overhaul. Last year things were too bland. This year, the caterers will be making sandwiches on-site. You will have more stuff to add to your sandwich as it is made, and then a choice of four condiments from simple mustard to garlic aioli. We have also adjusted the numbers of turkey and ham, and there will be way more gluten-free bread available....

Dinner will be largely the same based on feedback; however, people seemed to ask for more veggies, so there will be grilled veggies available.

What, no wine list?! Outrageous.

My experience has been that there's way more food available than you can possibly eat, even though you have to eat a lot to stay fueled. I'm only going to pack some energy gels and shot bloks from home. Instead of eating at 4:00 AM when I get up as I've tried to do in the past, I'll eat a banana and a double espresso and then gorge on eggs and peanut butter bread smears and more bananas when I arrive at the starting fields. Probably take an egg and an energy bar for the road.

And this, specific to the 160K and 180K:

On the 180K and 160K, your second stop will offer more substance because lunch is a ways off yet - bananas, PB&J, Fig Newtons, and such. 160K riders in particular, I think I underfed you at this point last year, so this year I'm upping the offerings for you. 

Underfed us?? I admit that lunch last year wasn't that good (slapped together sandwiches of unremarkable meat and bland sliced cheese, or something), but abundance wasn't the issue as far as I recall. Let 'em eat Fig Newtons.

As for my own dinner tonight, the eve of the Big Ride, I'm chowing a small sirloin filet and a large bowl of tortellini with light creamed tomato sauce. And drinking as much water as I can. And NOT drinking any alcohol. And going to bed by 8:00 PM.

I want to avoid what happened last year when I drank three or four beers the night before, only got like six hours of sleep, and then didn't eat enough or drink enough water before setting out on the 180K. About 45 miles into the ride I started cramping - my quads and my calves. I thought I would have to abandon but I grimly pushed on. That was when I learned that not only can you ride with leg cramps but you can actually recover from them, get over them. But it sucks doing so.

Finally, check out the "official" D2R2 2015 promotional video, it's pretty cool.

Lead Up to the D2R2: Rides, August 13 - 18

A little Greek Orthodox style on Cedar St, Woo City
August 15, 2015

Another quality stretch of riding, it's summer, the heat booms, the sun shines, the skin stays slick with sunblock.

Tonight, Thursday evening, it's a sticky 80 degrees in the Woo, I'm just back from eating roasted broccoli and poutine (with bacon gravy and local cheese curds) at the Armsby Abbey, Woo City's preeminent farm-to-table gastro pub. I've been watching the weekend forecast nervously because Saturday is the D2R2*, my third in a row and fourth overall. Earlier predictions had been an 80% chance of rain (including thunderstorms) but that forecast has changed and now they're predicting light rain possible in the early AM followed by partial sun through the rest of the day. Irie! Dampen those dusty farm roads and let us have our go.

In anticipation of cloudy, damp morning weather (and by "morning" we're talking a 7:00 departure) I bought arm warmers. Also bought two new bike bags, one for under the seat (more commodious than the one I have) and one for the top tube.

Looking back to the last week or so, I notched some good efforts including a Thursday 24 miler up into Paxton via the Kettle Brook Reservoirs (which included the cat 4 Woo City Airport climb).

All good in Kettle Brook
August 13, 2015

Then, on Saturday (August 15th), with time in the coffers, I ventured into the heat for a gigantic ramble up into Rutland and Princeton, 46 baking miles. I say "gigantic" because it was hot as hell and it involved 2800+ feet of climbing (including the Airport climb again), and took 4+ hours. I poured sweat and sopped my gloves and loved the whole thing.

Somewhere in Rutland, MA
August 15, 2015

Sunshine daydream

That was all well and good, visceral challenges in the Luciferian Crucible, but it was all pavement. I was never tested on gravel, though I was in fact turned back by deteriorating pavement on Brigham Rd in Rutland (I'd intended to use Brigham Rd as a cut-through to Brooks Rd and on to route 56). The off road work had to wait.

Brigham Rd not suitable for the road bike

Until Tuesday, anyway, when things changed dramatically. The weather remained absurdly hot and humid but the time had come for Team Shad to coalesce and get in a grueling pre-D2R2 training ride, a test ride of sorts to make sure the bikes (and ourselves) were ready to go.

Actually, only two thirds of Team Shad assembled, Dubstoevsky and The Virginian. I Ward is, alas, about to undergo surgery to repair a shoulder injury suffered when he was hit by a car backing out of a driveway over 10 months ago, so he was unavailable and will not be at the starting line of the D2R2. (Everyone even remotely connected to Team Shad wishes you, mighty I Ward, a swift recovery.)

Nevertheless, The Virginian and I rendezvoused in the hills of Montague, Massachusetts on Tuesday, August 18th for a humid ramble through the back roads, the dirt roads, the forest roads of the Pioneer Valley hills.

The Virginian prepping for the D2R2

We covered 46 hot miles and, though knackered by the time we returned to base camp (Chez Hotar), we were both encouraged. We felt ready for the 160K on Saturday.

Here's the thing. You huff and sweat and groan and hurt and struggle to turn the cranks but ... every time those wheels turn 'round, you cover just a little more ground.

Onward!

The D2R2 is special and definitely not to be taken lightly. The Virginian to his credit has ridden every iteration so far, 10 years and counting. I've completed a modest three by comparison, so while I remain the self-professed leader of Team Shad, I defer to and bow before The Mighty Virginian for his accomplishments. He is the George Hincapie of the D2R2, whether it's the 160k or the 180k. The Virginian rules and I simply try to keep in contact.

Tech Notes: I bought, and used for the first time on the D2R2 warm up ride, a Garmin Edge 200. I've since seen it described as:

"The Edge 200 is a basic GPS computer for cyclists wanting accurate maps of their rides."

Suits me.

It's intuitive to use and easy to see. It's slightly larger than a normal bike computer and it attaches easily to your handlebars.

One drawback is that, when you first turn it on to get started, it doesn't prompt you to set certain important parameters. For example, there's a setting for what to do when you stop during the ride, when you're no longer moving. I assumed the default would be to stop the timer but I was wrong. The default is that the timer keeps running. That skews the mph stat (the computation of which I assume is tied to the timer).

Another problem arose when I tried to upload the ride data to GarminConnect. The software I'd downloaded a day earlier was apparently out of date. The uploads error'd out and directed me to repetitive pages that were not helpful.

Eventually, after successive tries, I uninstalled the software and downloaded & installed the proverbial 'latest version.' After that, I was able to upload the ride data. To my pleasant surprise, Garmin automatically propagated that data to my Strava account. I'm not sure how that happened because I don't recall filling in any settings/parameters that would have made that connection.

The D2R2 will be a test of this device's ability. In the course of 95+ miles, we're in woods, we're in the hinterlands, we're stopped, we're way out in the freakin' country ... and we're out there for 10 hours or more. The battery life is supposed to be 14 hours. I will make sure it's fully charged before setting out. Me too, I'll be fully charged as well.

Parting Shot

Which way would you go? This way?

Morrow's Golden Hills, Paxton

Or this way?

The Road to Riches, Paxton

* If you followed the link to the D2R2 Homepage, that's Dubstoevsky anchoring the lead graphic (as of August 15, 2015).

A Stretch of Summer Riding

Bancroft Tower, August 8, 2015

A good stretch of riding just past. Bancroft Tower visits, a racing fast Monday ride with the Barney's Crew, me innocuous and unaligned and happy to ride for myself in the break away. A one way ride from Harvard to Worcester, the point of launch being Carlson's Orchards, a venerable producer of peaches, nectarines, and apples. Big sun, big puffy clouds, big blue radiant New England skies, back roads bounded by stone walls. Long climbs with the new gearing. Explorations, missed turns, meandering afield in Rutland, Sterling, Princeton, Lancaster, category 3 and category 4 climbs.

Dexter Drumlin, Lancaster, MA
August 8, 2015

But what of the compact 50/34? For inconsequential starters, this Ultegra set-up is noisy when coasting, it produces a whirring spinnicky-clicking sound that, at speeds, sounds like a host of meth-fueled cicadas going off under my seat. The pronounced drone makes listening to other errant noises that the bike might make difficult to hear so that audio troubleshooting might prove challenging. But the important thing is how it performs. And that, I'm happy to report, is excellent.

The second lowest gear (i.e., 2nd easiest to peddle) is now what my lowest gear was before. That's good as I can now get out of the saddle and hammer in that gear and still have a fallback option. However, the lowest gear is almost powerless. It's so easy to turn over that I find myself pumping staccato-style, jabbering almost, like someone stuttering, firing up and down rapidly but ineffectively. Except on the steepest grades. Then that low gear shines.

Mason Rd, Princeton
Aug 8, 2015

Yesterday's ride with the Monday night group was uplifting. I'd gone there tired and a couple weeks removed from the last time I rode with them when I did not acquit myself well (missed the break away that night and then dogged it on the hills, as I recall). But last night went much better. I rode 4+ miles (including a climb to Bancroft Tower) before getting to the ride rendezvous so I was warmed up. Then I made sure I stayed in contact with the front.

Racing along the newly paved section of Reservoir Rd at 22+ mph, we were a speeding train of ten or so guys. I didn't go near the front. I hung at the rear, alternately last or second to last, until we hit the climb. The group hammered onto the slope, as did I, feeling pretty good. But I had miscalculated. With the new compact gearing I'd figured that I'd be able to out climb guys but when I dropped to the lowest gear, I sacrificed momentum for ease of pedaling. That proved costly as I was only able to pass two guys; the rest of the group powered off ahead of me as I thrashed myself upwards, panting.

That's the good thing about the group ride versus the normal solo ride - you get to test yourself against stronger, better, and more experienced riders than yourself. And the competition is earnest but friendly; no one's a dick. There's nothing at stake, not even bragging rights. You're riding solely to test yourself.

I also did a short ride in town Sunday morning, August 9th. With plans for hiking later in the day, I opted just to get out on the quiet city streets for some local hill climbing. Green Hill Park, for example, George Street, Bancroft Tower. All good climbs. A beautiful morning. Very little traffic.

Main St, Woo City, Aug 9, 2015

Crossing Highland Ave Sunday Morning

Dubstoevsky at Bancroft Tower
Sunday, Aug 9, 2015