Maui to Now

From this.

Northwest Maui, February 6, 2017

To this.

Holden Reservoir, February 25, 2017

If it can be said that the "season" has started for me, it's because from January 30 to February 20 I was off the bike. In fact, I spent ten days of that time on Maui and despite turbulent, unpredictable weather there, managed to immerse myself in, and give myself over to, the Pacific Ocean several times, joyously so. 

So, because I rode pretty much continuously right up to the end of January and then didn't ride for the next three weeks, and because for some of that time I was literally far far away, and finally because I was discernibly off form on the first couple rides after the lay off, it seems to me that a seasonal swing has occurred, that I am not on ride #100 and something of the season but am on ride #12 of the new year, 2017. 

And a new year for Team Shad means, of course, the Rasputitsa, now just six weeks or so away. 

My immediate focus is building stamina and maintaining power over longer and longer rides. The Rasp is 45 or so miles, not a threatening distance on the face of it, but when you throw in the crazy elevations and the nasty conditions, you have a very difficult day in the saddle. I'm aiming to be fit enough to match the demands of the course and will rely on meditation, savvy, pacing, and Dubstoevskian stubbornness. 

Maui, February 6, 2017

It's a Wrap

The vanishing year

2016. Done. Finished. Weirdness. Success and disappointment. The abandoned Tour de Heifer. The D2R2 mechanical on East RD. Team Shad reduced to two stalwarts, Wing Nut and Dubstoevsky. But the Rasputitsa, if not a triumph, definitely a success. A strong showing for the team. 

Dubstoevsky? An injury-free season. A personal best mileage count. Strong outings at the Rasputitsa and at the D2R2, until the mechanical. 

Stats 2016

118 rides
3,116.1 miles
165,679 feet elevation gain
233 hours 51 minutes pedaling

Those stats indicate a worthy effort, as one would expect of the team leader. Not even a contract year, just another year of dogged perseverance, of joyous embrace the rounding wheel, of conviction.

Crows on Cedar St
December 27, 2016

Bancroft Tower 12.27.16

The Return of the Light

Take heart in the fact that it is no longer the shortest day of the year, but the second shortest. And every day now until June grows lighter. 

But much as we want more and more light, there is something inescapably superior about winter light, more beautiful than the other three seasons, especially just before and after dawn, and late in the afternoon as the sun dips below the frozen hills and fills the western sky with wan peach smears and gray cloud boas the colors of hearth ash and washed out apricot.

Or just after 3:00 setting out for a spirited reservoir romp, passing St Spyridon Church, old Greek Acropolis cloud sky embracing the be-crossed dome in the muted sun glare. 

December 4, 2016

On these rides, you have to be extra careful, you have to be aware of your surroundings at all time, as aware as an owl or a mountain lion, you have to take note of every road detail and never let your attention waver. A frozen road surface, an icy gutter sludge, a patch of sand, they could all take you down in a Zen breath. 

So today is the second darkest day of 2016 and I'm filled with light, and trying to be light on my bike, and light in my awareness, and light in the universe, an airy soul speeding along on rubber tubes of air. To the reservoir! 

December 22, 2016

And so 17 miles unexpectedly, a Thursday afternoon late in December, like finding a ten dollar bill on the sidewalk. All the miles between now and spring training are gravy, the low fat version. Every pedaled mile counts as a gold star. 

A Note on Team Shad

Not for the first time did I ponder the odd circumstance that finds Team Shad training on the road roughly 90% of the time, yet the only organized events on the team's race schedule year in and year out are gravel road affairs (Rasputitsa, D2R2, Tour de Heifer). What's up with that? wondered Dubstoevsky near the end of the year. Who is running this team, anyway?

Grim Portents of Darkness to Come

Dark days in America, literally and figuratively. The US election dropped a giant orange rat onto the dining room table and now we're all afraid of what the rat's going to destroy. It is hard to look on the bright side because the shadows cast by America's Folly are dense and long and have cast a pall across the land.

Still, Shad rides. Despite the raw cold, the early onset darkness, the tortured landscapes. Despite the specter of authoritarianism that has suddenly broken upon the country like a poison mist. Joy is hard to come by. The portents of decay are many.

Like the death of this noble creature which I found on the road running alongside the Holden Reservoir on November 27.

Owl down

Farewell, wise one

At first, I rode past it but, realizing what it was, went back to look. Wanting to spare this beautiful creature's body the desecration of being run over by cars, I moved it off the road and laid it down in the bracken alongside the reservoir's edge. I wanted to offer it a dignified resting place, and I asked its spirit's forgiveness for the destructive capacity of my species.

Then I rode on, saddened by the owl's death, troubled by the ugly forces that have been unleashed across the land.

From Grim to Glorious

Four rides in four days, from grim to glorious, none of the rides particularly big by DS Mawg's standards. Today's was actually the longest at 30 miles.

Saturday's outing distinguishes itself for being treacherous (the "Grim" in the title of this post), and for me for being a gampas.

[Note: "Gampas" is a made-up word that means fool or dingbat or moron. It might mean "shrimp" in Spanish.]

Here's what happened.

It was damp and overcast all week, chilly days, several of them actually rainy. Saturday arrived and seemed to promise a respite from actual precipitation, even though the morning was heavily clouded. I decided to ride. But half way down the block, the sky visibly black and ominous in the distance and a brisk wind blowing, I realized that I'd under-dressed. So back I went to Shad HQ for warmer layers including a Pearl Izumi fleece top, a long sleeve windbreaker, and full length tights.

My plan was to climb to the airport, then take Bailey Rd to Mulberry Rd which wraps around the back of the airport and descends into Cherry Valley (Bailey Rd can be busy and dangerous during the week due to contractor traffic, i.e. a lot of pick-ups, but on Saturday it's not that bad). About four miles in, I hit the airport climb, a category four, and almost immediately began to sweat. I was overdressed but there was nothing to do but climb to the top, which I did, increasingly sodden.

Low visibility on Mulberry St

Along Airport Drive I stopped and, in the thickening mist and desperate for air, took off my bright orange, high vis windbreaker ... only to realize that I was now dressed completely in black. The only remotely bright thing I had going for me was a blinking tail light. Otherwise I was, under the circumstances (bad visibility, thick cloud cover, ground mist and fog) dressed as a basic gampas, which is to say foolishly. Obviously I didn't perish nor even have a close call, but I remain chastened by having been so boneheaded.

On Sunday, Mother's Day, I managed a one hour low intensity Reservoir Loop in between Mother's Day Brunch (French Toast, bacon, 4 berry fruit salad with creme fraiche, pear cider 2.5% alcohol, Presecco) and Greek Tapas dinner (lamb sausage, platters of bread and dips, fried smelts, chicken kebabs).

Waiting for the Monday Night Ride to get underway
Barney's Bike Shop, May 9, 2016

19 guys showed up for the Monday night ride with Barney's crew. It was a spirited ride, though tame in the early goings up Mill St. I rode with the advanced guys but, as usually happens because I'm still learning this game, I ended up getting schooled at various points along the way. I'm still basically a "new guy" among the regulars, many of whom have been riding together at this and other local group rides for years, and they know the nuances and the points of attack on this ride, whereas I don't yet.

Case in point, I was among a train of 7 guys out in front and racing along the reservoir, heading for two climbs (a short one followed by, after a little level ground and a small decent, a much steeper and longer one). Frantic Frank was among us and, as seems to happen too frequently between me and Frantic, he blocked my way forward on a climb. Hitting the first, smaller hill, Frantic, directly in front of me, mis-shifted and momentarily lost his momentum. That forced me to brake and lose my own momentum.

Frustrated, I put the hammer down, veered around him and around the phalanx of five others directly ahead, and shot up the hill like an angry moth. No one gave chase. Flutter flutter. Until after the level-off and the slight downhill right before the Big Hill - then one, then another, then all six had passed me, Frantic included. I gave game chase but couldn't catch anyone's wheel and labored up the climb 30 yards and more in arrears.

The lesson I learned is not to react in frustration. The point I proved in topping the small hill first was quickly negated by losing any chance at the Real Prize, the Big Fucking Climb, a climb that is actually kind of ideal for me and which I should own. I just need to learn patience. Unfortunately, this Monday night I had none and I blew my engine on the Small Pagoda. OM.

Alta Vista Farm, Rutland, Ma
May 10, 2016

Today's solo jaunt out to Rutland and the Prescott St/Hillside Rd/Emerald Rd/Causeway St loop, was utterly beautiful (the Glorious of the title). Finally, a warm, sunny May day, almost 70 degrees, though still remarkably dry, there's very little moisture in the air so it always feels just a little bit cooler than the actual temperature. I wore 3/4 tights, two shirts, and a paper bag between the shirts. Perfect. But not yet Early Summer.

The end of today's ride was excellent. I decided to do the climb to Bancroft Tower. As I rounded the corner on the last steep uphill part, I saw two guys walking up ahead. It was clear that we'd all reach the top at the same time, which we did.

Bancroft Tower May 10, 2016

"Hello!" I said, greeting the one who'd seen me at the last minute and turned toward me. The other guy hadn't heard me and turned around with a surprised, but smiling, look on his face. I don't think either of them spoke English and I don't know what nationality they were but we interacted warmly.

The first guy pointed down the hill we'd both just come up and said something that I took to mean "You just rode up that fucking hill?? Praises unto you!"

I smiled broadly, nodding my head, and gave him a fist bump that he happily returned. So did his smiling friend.

Tuesday

Just Tuesday. But sunny, bright. I summoned the motivation and went out. It was the right thing to do. On the 28+ mile loop, I saw this:

Holden Reservoir

That was enough to fill the day with goodness. I felt strong, too, a bonus. Windy, but there was no bite in today's wind. I dressed correctly. Though when the sun sank low enough and I rode in shadow, that was chilly. But not until near the end, at which point I ramped up my effort and went all out.

Oh, the snowstorm I mentioned previously did happen, but in a very benign way. We got maybe 5 inches overnight on Sunday but Monday warmed up and most of the snow melted. In the hilly forest slopes, some remains, as the photo below on Reservoir Rd attests. But the storm was more or less a non event and won't compromise training at all.

Bailey Rd, March 22, 2016

Flying Dreams

"Thoughts Become Things" 

Drinking a Night Crawler India Dark ale from Flying Dreams Brewing Company in the Woo, and I read on the label (the art work of which looks like a cross between Mouse's legendary Grateful Dead illustrations, and Shaolin graffiti ) the slogan "Dream Big. Thoughts Become Things."

Say no more.

Let's see, I dream of a winter where it never snows, though it does get cold, cold enough to crisp up the air nice and clean and sharp. Where the deciduous trees, bereft of foliage, etch themselves proudly against a shamelessly naked landscape. When the daytime temperature strays into the 50s and the sun radiates down through a gossamer blanket of gauzy clouds. When traffic has, without explanation, forsaken the roads and a cyclist can sail along near the middle of the road, plenty of room on either side.

The dream came true, if only for a day. February 4, 2016 - more absurd warmth and spring-like conditions. The morphic resonant presence hums with benign complacency. It could all change in a day but for the moment of Thursday the 4th, six weeks after winter solstice with light lingering now in the sky 'til 5:00, the whole winter seems behind us.

I honestly didn't know yesterday, when I saddled up and set out, that winter would roar back to life just 8 hours later. As I slept into the wee hours this morning (which, being February 5, is also the anniversary of the onset of the infamous Blizzard of '78), light snow began to fall. By 7:00 heavy snow was falling steadily and at times with ferocity, and it kept up all morning. But that is a tale for another time.

As for yesterday, ride #6 of 2016 was an enjoyable 18.5 mile foray to the Reservoir and up South Rd and back, a ride marked by long vistas into the snow-less landscape, by dry roads, by pleasantly cool conditions for which I nailed the correct combination of tights, bibs, tops, wraps, gloves, paper bags, neck warmers, etc. Ka-ching, Kwai Chang Caine.

I opted to ride out of town via Institute Rd and the climb to Bancroft Tower. Standing and hammering the pedals with enthusiasm up the steep climb, at a point near the top I overtook a runner who then overtook me when I stopped to take the obligatory photo, and who continued right on past and up to the tower itself.

Bancroft Tower and runner, February 4, 2016

Then the plunge down the other side and through the neighborhoods -

Pine Tree Dr, Valley Hill Dr, Mabelle St, Kinnicutt St, Westbrook Rd, Richmond Ave, Aylesbury Rd, Moreland St, Walter St, Paradox Dr, Seconset St, Copperfield Rd, Grenada St, Rich St, Tory Fort Lane

- to get to Mower & Olean Sts. The dash to the reservoir and the race along the western edge at pace. Then the left onto South Rd for the familiar & beloved mile+ climb to the top in order to turn around and whir right back down. Woods bare of snow. Stone walls, gray green, recede up the wooded hillsides into vague distance. Crows crow-cackle in skeletal oaks, whimsy in their caws as if they too were happy to gambol about in such gentle weather.

I cawed them back in brotherhood. The brotherhood of Shad.

Bare woods of February 4th 2106 along the Holden reservoir

Lower Holden Reservoir, Feb 4, 2016

Dubstoevsky in European neck warmer, a gift of Scrodicus Frankfurtus
February 4, 2016

January Gone

End of January, a generally ferocious month that acquiesced this year, it rolled over and opted out of winter. Sweet! Sunday, the last day of the month, 53 degrees and sunny!

Dry roads. Road bike style. The fifth ride of the year, of the month. Eleven months to go. Vivaldi's Four Seasons and we've squeaked through one month of the first.

Where Harris St meets River Rd

Dubstoevksy on the bridge

El Nino

If indeed we have El Nino to thank for this winter's benign weather, than I bow low and doff my helmet to the great phenomenon. Last year at this time, Snowmageddon had set in with ferocity, burying the Woo in what became record amounts of snow. This year? Well, today, January 30, the temperature climbed into the 40s, the sun shone, small patches of vestigial snow from last weekend's dusting continued to melt, and the roads were clear and dry.

It being Saturday, and the weather cooperating so nicely, I had little choice but to duck out for a morning ride. A road bike ride, no less. Oddly, my last ride a week ago on the Crux Elite ended with me pulling into Shad HQ and hearing an odd clicky sound from my rear wheel. Dismounting, I peered at the wheel and sure enough there it was, a snapped spoke. Must have happened in the last block. So that bike is now in the shop getting repaired (and getting a new chain and handlebar wrapping). So road bike it was.

A Reservoir run, not a loop but a straight shot out and then up South Rd to get some climbing in, then back down, though descending carefully, very carefully. It was above freezing and the roads basically dry and not even that sandy but some damp-looking spots suggested possible ice so I took no chances, slowing down accordingly and attending to the bike handling like a jeweler cutting diamonds.

There was no danger. The ride was terrific. And despite only sporadic riding over the last two months, I continue to feel strong and comfortable when I'm out there. The goal, of course, is to maintain some modicum of conditioning so that the Rasputitsa won't be a total sufferfest. The weather and the course conditions I have no control over, but I can work on my state of physical preparedness between now and then. Here's hoping El Nino's charm keeps pampering the northeast.

Reservoir Vistas

Lower Reservoir

Upper Reservoir approach

Upper Reservoir

January 3, 2016

Some days, when opportunity presents itself, you have to seize it, even if "seizing it" means little more than an hour's low key spin. So went today, Sunday, January 3, a big booming sunny day in New England. I didn't have a ton of energy but I went out for a Reverse Reservoir Loop anyway and notched the second ride of 2016.

La Rue de Shad

Bancroft Tower, January 3, 2016
Holiday Style

Team Shad fans line the road hoping for a glimpse of their heroes

Holden Reservoir, northern tip

The road ahead ... 

Gray November Triptych

November 7, 2015

Dour November rides, the foliage fallen from the trees, the harsh news from Paris a grim reminder of mortality and chance.

I might get hit by a car on my next ride. I cannot predict that everything will go well. These days, Western culture under attack from the long subjugated inheritors of colonialism, despotism, and fundamentalism, what can I do but carry on?

Like today, Sunday, November 15, 2015, winter not yet come with vengeance to the Woo, not even a hard freeze yet. The Reservoir road, the swirling wind, the blowing leaves, the denuded trees, the fading light. Or like November 7, the ride from Lemonstar to the Woo, traversing long familiar roads, a grayed acknowledgement of loss, the sun wan in the sky.

We cannot live anywhere but where we live.

I rode to the mountain top on Saturday, November 7th.

Climbing toward the summit

Summit

Tower of Shad

Monadnock to the north

Yesterday, grim wind and gray sky, harsh brown leaves swirling in the surreptitious moil. The Reservoir face an angry ripple of white caps and disapproval. Comfort has waned. Nothing staunches the moment like the loss of season.

Holden Reservoir November 14, 2015

Today I ventured into new terrain on the road bike. From Harris Rd I continued beyond the point at which the road was marked 'closed.' Closed years ago, never kept up, a crumbling pavement path through the woods toward the Quinapoxet River and the Wachusett Reservoir.

Road closed, November 15, 2015

I'd been here before, years ago, and was here now again, and grateful for the recently-added high end 4x season Continental road tires, the surface was cracked and strewn with debris but I didn't fear a flat.

Looking behind

Looking forward

The great challenge posed by road cycling is to be ever alert and ever in the quickly-changing moment, completely aware at all times; a breath-to-breath, pedal-to-pedal stroke forward, fully deliberate. In a weird way, this is actually relaxing; the only thing I as a cyclist need to be concerned with is my immediate moment. No baggage, nothing making fraught the struggle, just the road ahead, every rolling wheel circle a victory.

The yawning maw of expanse

Three Beautiful Days, But a Grim Discovery on Halloween

These days are not supposed to be this nice - mid 60s, sunny, clear. The last vestiges of bright foliage have been bathed in rich, late afternoon sun day in and day out. Terrific rides, albeit now becoming abbreviated, certainly the midweek afternoon rides; last weekend brought the end of Daylight Savings time.

Thursday the 29th, Almost 70 Degrees

Reservoir Road

The view from the repaired bridge on Reservoir Rd

Climbing up South Rd

Back in the Woo

Return of Dubstoevsky

Halloween Day, and the Grim Discovery

Halloween Saturday was bright and clear, also warm, I headed out for a brisk Reservoir Loop. All was fine and irie as I made my way out of the neighborhood environs.

Pleasant St, Halloween 2015

I sped through Tatnuck to Olean St and, feeling good, kept a steady pace on the run up to, and then around, Holden Reservoir. Then I came upon a macabre scene, a pheasant massacre. A pile of ring-necked pheasants dumped in the pine needles along the side of the road.

Massacre of the innocent

The work of some moron hunter, no doubt. It made me sad to see such waste. My father hunted and I grew up eating roast pheasant (wrapped in bacon!). We ate everything he shot - pheasant, woodcock, grouse, rabbits. So seeing this atrocity saddened me greatly.

I rode on and then not much later came across another wretched death scene, this one no doubt the work of automobiles.

Grim road kill site

Tuesday, November 3

The sun sets now at 4:29 pm so the window of riding opportunity is narrow for post-work riding. Nevertheless, I was able to get away in time this afternoon and managed another Reservoir run, this one thankfully devoid of discarded carcasses. Another warm day, again almost 70 degrees.

Shadman and the Golden Shadows