Ride # 47: Temperature Drop

Tuesday, May 13
4:00 in the afternoon
cold 50s

Yesterday in Cambridge where I went to hear Michael Pollan speak about the importance of cooking food (real food), the temperature in Harvard Sq. was 89 degrees (31 C). Today, setting out on a raw, overcast day in a rancid mist, the temperature was a wretched 52 F. That's a 37 degree drop. I was back in tights and  a fleece top. I tucked a paper bag against my chest. I wore full finger gloves. It was like March all over again.

But ride I did anyway. More hills, more sweet climbing. But there was an air of sullenness about the hills today as if they were happy to wreck the cadence of a cycling enthusiast, as if a momentary lack of focus would result in catastrophe. I paid very close attention and pedaled with force and conviction.

In the end, it was a workman-like foray into the hilly wilds. Felt great. The back and hip have both gotten better. Am still stretching before and after riding, and that continues to help. Allez!

Ride Summary: 23 miles, 14.2 mph, 98 minutos. No fresh road kill. Strava stats.

Parting Shot

Orange Clad Shad

Ride #'s 45 & 46: The Wild Blue Yonder and the Blooming of Spring

The Beginning of Real Spring
Saturday Afternoon 4:30
75 degrees and humid

Ride #45 on Saturday afternoon was, by necessity, a wink and breath, nothing more. 9.8 miles, a quick ride to keep the metabolism firing at a high cadence. There was no time for a real ride. I always held 10 miles as the minimum requirement to qualify as a numbered ride so I lump Saturday's by-necessity quick 9.8 time trial up to Sholan Farms and back into the two overall weekend rides. One was brief, the other massive.

Late Saturday before the imminent arrival of dinner guests, I undertook the Brief Sprint for Metabolism Enervation, an insistent dash to Sholan Farm when prudence suggested that I should not. I flew in the shadow of thunder gods, clouds of plentiful ire. It was fantastic.

In the Ire of Thor Hushovd, the God of Thunder

Sunday was something else entirely. Ride #46, early afternoon, the day an absolute gem of a Sunday in May. The quintessential Mother's Day. Total blue sky. A deep, rich blue. NO clouds. Consequently, completely sunny. The Unadulterated Sun of Plenty. And warm! 80 degrees. Vast.

Vast

I wanted to go BIG today, do either a lot of miles or a lot of climbing. It turned out to be climbing, 3100 feet (according to my strava reading), a three hour ramble that took in the Drumlin in Lancaster, a hefty stretch of rt 62 in Princeton, a determined grind on Mountain Rd, the Summit Rd climb, and Upper Justice Hill Rd on the way back to Chez Shad.

Ended up with a fantastic day in the saddle on the best weather day of the year. A Vitamin D debauch. I yearned to absorb the light and the air as I zipped through it at 20 mph. I was a blur, a hurtling succulent sluicing in every sunbeam and every wind gust that exploded around the mountain and crashed into me. Wind! Light! Air! The planet!

And birds. A raven, a robin, a red-winged black bird. A red tail hawk. Innumerable small sparrows a-flutter from road side to shrub.

The sun boomed. The wind gusted.

Today's meandering path to the mountain top took me past Sholan Farms and then south to Lancaster for a Drumlin drive-by, then across the wide Davis Farm Stand flats to the center of Sterling. Out the other side quickly and a meditative if arduous march upwards in the general direction of The Mountain (the quarry) on roads relatively new to me. At one point I rode a ways on the narrow and cracked tarmac of Redemption Rock Trail and then logged several miles on equally narrow and dicey rt. 62. Those are the sinewy & dangerous tendons that stitch together fantastic meanders like today's. You undertake them with an equanimity of spirit and pedal with tenacity and a concern for the Most High.

Then it was The Mountain. Mont Vontusett. The Wachusett. The coup de climb. The gates still closed so no motor vehicles. Pavement smooth and clean. A joy of an ascent.

Summit

I achieved the hat trick. Thrice in a week I spun my wheels on Wachusett's rocky dome. Which is telling. Making a direct foray to the top of Wachusett, a 27 mile round trip ride, used to be a killer. Now? Today I finished with 42 miles and though I definitely felt like I did a huge ride, I didn't feel sapped of energy or bodily beaten down; I felt tired in a good way. I was hungry. And very much alive.

In the Great Blue Yonder

Ride Summary: 42.44 miles (67 K), 14.3 mph, a whisper shy of three hours astraddle. Windy! Plenty of head winds made several stretches additionally challenging. Great views from Wachusett. Clear air, not too humid. Mt. Monadnock clear and looming to the north.

Road Kill: Snakepocalypse. Three snakes today. The first one I came upon must have been killed within the hour; I was that close to saving it. The second and third were slain just a few feet apart at Bartlett Pond Brook on Hobbs Rd. Ugly business.

Snake # 1, a garter snake

Snake # 2, a water snake

Snake # 3, another garter snake

Parting Shot

Shad rides but Nature calls

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.